"A Fresh Perspective"

Summary: De-aged!Merlin, Caring!Arthur, Caring!Knights, Reveal!Fic. If that doesn't say it all, Merlin is turned into a child by ex-druids bent on raising "Emrys" to be their weapon to free magic. (Plot is actually just an excuse to write Merlin as a kid fluff.) SPOILERS for S4. Set during S4, after episode #whatever, when Elyan is ...

Rating: K+ for mild swearing, Morgana being mean(briefly), and Merlin being scared(a lot). Mentions Merlin getting hurt, but not graphic and he gets better quickly!

Word count: Approx. 43,000 so far.

Disclaimer: I don't own BBC's Merlin. I'm just playing with their characters and world.

A/N: Just got back from a wonderful sci-fi/fantasy convention in Dallas, and I've got another chapter for you. Thanks for reading and the many kind reviews I've received! Hope you enjoy.

CHAPTER 7

Irina slid off the wagon bed almost as soon as it creaked through Camelot's city gates. Smoothing her skirts to dislodge any clinging bits of hay and debris, she glanced at the darkening sky. Almost sunset. She'd been fortunate to arrive before the gates closed for the night. It would give her time to get settled and do some scouting before attempting to reclaim Emrys.

A few coins got her a hot meal and a drafty room in a small inn, and as soon as she'd attained some bit of privacy, she pulled a small mirror from her bag and breathed on it. The fogged glass remained that way, and a few seconds later the words, "Did you arrive safely?" appeared as if scrawled in the cloudy moisture by a finger.

She grinned and wrote, "Of course. Have faith. Soon I will deliver Emrys to his people." Each phrase replaced the last, until Tibalt replied, "Be careful."

After returning the mirror to her pack, Irina pulled out two cloth-wrapped bundles and fetched the bowl left for patrons to freshen up. One bundle contained a dozen sweetmeats, which she arranged in the bowl. The other was a small bottle of clear liquid, odorless and mostly tasteless, that functioned as a sedative.

Grinning, Irina treated each of the candies with the drug. What child could resist the offer of a treat? And while Emrys would sense if she tried to enchant the sweetmeats, he wouldn't notice the drug until it took effect. Then she could easily spirit him away without traumatizing the boy or getting beat back like Tibalt had. Once the sweetmeats had fully absorbed the drug, she rewrapped and stowed them in her pack. The other things she carried were a change of clothes for herself and a little peasant girl's dress and a headscarf.

Even if the king discovered Emrys was missing before she could escape Camelot, he would be searching for a young boy, not a little girl and her mother. Tibalt had said Emrys was a rather fey, pretty child, and often at such a young age it was hard to distinguish between the sexes. It was a near perfect plan.

She gently extracted a small, metal band, its shiny surface marred with numerous runes, careful not to touch the cursed object with her bare skin. This, however, made her plan foolproof. Irina shuddered and put it back. Binding Emrys's power would only be a last resort. They wanted to help, not hurt, him.

Assured of her plan, Irina settled down to get what sleep she could.


Gaius closed the tome and dropped it onto the towering stack of dusty volumes that had proven useless. He rubbed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to drop into bed and sleep for a week.

"That boy will be the death of me," he muttered to himself, trying to stave off the fear curling icy talons around his heart. What if he couldn't find a cure? Merlin, Hunith, Arthur—all of Camelot really—were counting on him to fix their secret warlock. He'd hoped to have found some remedy in one of his books, but now he would simply have to wait until tomorrow for the results of his analysis of that potion. At least that would help him narrow down his research.

He sighed and pushed slowly to his feet, joints creaking and aching. He was really getting too old for this. Gaius set out three bowls, pouring some stew into each one to cool. Hunith would be back with Merlin soon and the lad would need to eat.

The door to his quarters swung open and Leon and Hunith, with Merlin on her hip, stepped through. Leon lingered in the doorway, while Hunith crossed the room to Gaius. Merlin waved at Leon over his mother's shoulder.

"Bye!"

Leon smiled at the boy and caught Gaius's eye, indicating with a jerk of his head that he wished to speak to the physician privately. Gaius acknowledged Merlin's greeting and stepped over to the knight.

"Yes, Sir Leon?"

"Gaius, King Arthur wishes to see you in his chambers at your earliest convenience to discuss the . . . um . . . situation."

Gaius nodded. "Of course. Tell him I'll be there as soon as I've helped Hunith get the boy settled. We're both a bit out of practice at caring for one so young, I'm afraid."

It took close to an hour to get Merlin fed, bathed, dressed and settled into his own bed upstairs in his room. Despite his persistent yawning, the boy was oddly energetic and chattered on so steadily about his new position and the afternoon's excitement, Hunith had to spoon the stew into his mouth in the brief pauses between comments or else he'd never have finished eating. The bath was just as exhausting for the adults and left both them and much of the floor soaked, due mostly to Merlin's insistence that he could do it by himself.

All of which was why Gaius trudged up to Arthur's chambers, soggy and looking like he'd been kidnapped again. Arthur, seated at the head of his table, eyed him with an amused grin playing about his lips, but displayed great kingly wisdom by keeping any comments to himself. Elyan, Percival, Leon and Gwaine sat with him, though Gwaine slouched back in his chair and had his boots propped on the edge of the table. Empty dishes and the lingering scent of venison suggested they'd just finished their own dinner.

"Hunith told me you've not found a cure for Merlin's condition yet," Arthur said, getting down to business as the young king often did when frustrated.

Gaius shook his head and clasped his hands behind his back. "No, sire, I'm afraid none of my books have offered any insight into Merlin's predicament. However, the analysis results of that potion will be ready by tomorrow, which should help narrow the search."

"Isn't there some sort of, I dunno, aging spell?" Gwaine asked, wiggling his fingers in what Gaius could only assume was meant to be a magical gesture.

Gaius glanced at Arthur, unsure how much he'd told the knights. "Well, yes, such a spell exists, but I'm afraid it would do Merlin no good. He hasn't just grown younger; he's completely reverted to his four-year-old self. If we were to use an aging spell, we would merely put that four-year-old into an adult body. I must find the specific antidote to the potion he was given if I'm to reverse the effects on his mind, as well as his body."

"I must admit the memory loss worries me," Arthur said, picking at the edge of the table. "What if that part of his mind was destroyed by this potion? These sorcerers wanted to raise him as a magical weapon. Leaving something like his adult memories intact, even locked away in his head, would be too risky."

Gaius started at the casual remark about magic, his gaze darting over the knights.

"Oh, we know about Merlin's special gift," Gwaine said, grinning. Arthur shot him a scathing look that did nothing to quell the knight's tongue. "But Merlin can't tell us because it's a secret."

For a moment, Gaius thought he might be having a heart attack the way it thumped wildly in his chest. Percival, the closest, jumped up and helped the old physician into a chair.

"Don't worry, Gaius," Arthur said. "I've explained as best I could Merlin's unique gift and they've been accepting."

Elyan shifted a bit uncomfortably in his chair at that comment, but said nothing.

Percival clapped the physician on the shoulder. "Yeah, we'll look out for him."

Something wet and warm trailed down Gaius's cheek. He touched his face, surprised to find he was crying. "Oh my." He chuckled softly. "So many years Merlin's longed to be accepted by his friends for all he is, and when that day finally comes, he goes and gets himself turned into an oblivious child. But on his behalf, thank you. Thank you all."

"Well, what did you expect us to do after Arthur went and made him a bloody member of the court?" Gwaine teased, his amusement growing the redder Arthur's face got. "Official Secret Sorcerer, was it?"

"Ah, yes, he mentioned something to that effect to Hunith and I many, many times tonight. He is quite proud."

"It was just a way to try to help him control his magic." Arthur shrugged. "Not that it did any good. He gave himself away by sensing that Leon's life had been saved with magic from the Cup of Life and announcing it to everyone."

"But he couldn't tell us how he knew because it was a secret," Gwaine said with a laugh. "God, I hope he remembers this when we get him back! Years of good teasing material."

"I believe his adult memories are still present in his mind, locked away," Gaius said, turning back to Arthur. "But you're right, sire, about that being dangerous for the sorcerers who did this. They cannot get their hands on Merlin. In his vulnerable state, it will be an easy matter to remove those memories permanently, which was probably part of their plan all along, until you prevented them from abducting him in the forest. Should they succeed, the Merlin we know will be lost forever and he will have to grow up all over again."

Arthur frowned, pensive. "And to have a warlock as powerful as Merlin raised for the sole purpose of destroying Camelot. . . ."

"Is he really that powerful?" Elyan asked.

Gaius nodded, feeling traitorous for bringing it up, but they needed to understand. "He is the most powerful warlock that has or ever will walk this earth. The Merlin we know would die before using his gifts against Arthur and Camelot, in fact I've seen him try on more than one occasion. I would not betray Merlin's trust like this were the situation not so grave, but if these sorcerers succeed, there is another aspect to Merlin you should be aware of. Something he inherited from his father when he died. "

Arthur's head snapped up sharply. "Merlin told me he never knew his father."

"He didn't." Gaius wrung his hands, battling guilt. "Not until the day you went to find Balinor and I told him. I don't know why Hunith kept it secret, but I couldn't let him see the man face to face and not know. And perhaps I hoped that if Balinor knew Merlin was his son, he might be more inclined to come to our aid."

The blood drained from the king's face, which he buried in his hands. "Left to protect them. To protect them from my father. And he died. And I told Merlin not to . . . .Tell me, Gaius, is there any way that my father and I have not done Merlin ill? Prophecy or no, why on earth would he do so much for us?"

"That, sire, you will have to ask Merlin himself."

"So, Merlin is a dragonlord," Leon said. "At least there are no more dragons for him to call should the worst come to pass."

"I'm afraid that's not entirely true," Gaius said, causing every head to turn toward him. "You didn't kill the Great Dragon. While you were unconscious, Merlin spared Kilgharrah and forbade him from harming innocents or Camelot ever again on pain of death. They've become allies of sorts over the years, two creatures of the Old Religion with a similar hope for the future. Fortunately, Merlin is currently unaware he has this gift, and no one aside from the dragon, Hunith and myself know—and now you. It is possible that as a child he is unable to use this ability."

A wry chuckle escaped the king's lips. "He may not be aware, but he is definitely capable. The first morning he woke in Ealdor, Merlin ran, scared and crying, into the woods. When I found him, he was calm and happy and claimed a big dragon had assured him everything would be okay. I thought it a childish fantasy, but now . . . ."

Percival whistled."No wonder these sorcerers are so eager to get their hands on him."

"And why we will do everything in our power to make sure they don't," Arthur declared.


This wrongness, Merlin was beginning to think, was the best thing to ever happen to him. It was the first time he'd ever been away from home, and he'd not only gotten to see Camelot (which wasn't as scary as he'd imagined), but he'd made friends with the king and his knights (who didn't hate him because of his magic). And got to be the king's Secret Sorcerer. And use his magic. Everyone was so nice to him, too, not like the adults back home. His mum was still busy, but not like back home where she often worked beneath the hot sun until her back ached and her fingers blistered. If she didn't seem so sad for some reason, Merlin would have wished things could stay this way forever. But he didn't want his mum to stay sad, and he missed Will.

Today, after he and Sir Horse had a big breakfast, Arthur came and let him do some magic, just a few tricks, then told him that he had kingly jobs to do and wouldn't get to visit until that evening. Merlin tried to smile and told him it would be okay, but it made him sad. He liked Arthur as much as he liked Will, maybe even a bit more because Arthur didn't tease him about his ears or how skinny he was. Then he, Mum, and Gaius had gone off to whisper things in the corner, so Merlin took Sir Horse over to the stairs and pretended they were the tallest mountain in the world. He and Sir Horse had nearly made the summit, when his mum came back and told him he was going to visit the market with Sir Gwaine.

"Wouldn't you like that, dear?" she asked.

Merlin considered, making Sir Horse rear up on his hind legs. He would rather spend the day with Arthur, but Gwaine was funny. "What do you do at the market?"

Gwaine, who'd obviously come in sometime while he and Sir Horse were busy, dropped onto the stair beside Merlin, tossed his hair over his shoulder and smiled. "All sorts of things, Merlin. You can buy almost anything, and sometimes there are entertainers, minstrels and storytellers."

"Really?" Merlin asked. He wanted to see more performers. This time he wouldn't be too scared to talk to them.

"Really," Gwaine affirmed. He stood, dusted his breeches and descended the stairs.

A dragon, the king, knights and performers. Merlin grinned and bounced excitedly. "Did you hear that, Mum? Wait 'til I tell Will. He's gonna be so jealous."

Oddly, his mother didn't look too happy about it. She forced a smile, showed him a few coins and handed them to Gwaine. "Yes, I'm sure, dear. Now, this is yours to spend, but only if Sir Gwaine says it's okay. Don't get too much sun, you know quickly you burn. And if you get too hot or tired, tell Sir Gwaine. And promise me you'll stay close to him."

"I know, I know, Mum." Merlin rolled his eyes and hopped down the stairs, sometimes two at a time just to show her how grown he was. Why did she have to treat him like that? He was the king's Secret Sorcerer now. "I'm almost five. And I have an important job."

His mum was waiting for him with her hands on her hips when he reached the bottom step. "Well, my job is to worry about you, young man, no matter how grown and important you get." She knelt to be at eye level with him. "Give me a hug and have fun, okay?"

Merlin threw his arms around her neck. Even though she looked different and had taken advantage of a hot bath tub, she smelled the same—kind of like hay and flowers and the cooking fire. And her hug was just as warm and strong as always.

"Okay, Mum," he said and gave her quick peck on the cheek. He supposed it was alright for Secret Sorcerers to do that. At least to their mums when they seemed sad.

He said goodbye to Gaius and gave him a hug, reluctantly left Sir Horse on the table at his mother's insistence, then let Gwaine take his hand and walk him out of the castle to the lower town.

The market was much bigger, louder and more colorful than Merlin had pictured, so he spent the first few minutes of his visit clinging to Gwaine's leg like a pale, blue-eyed, black-haired ivy. Smells hung hot and heavy over the entire place, ranging from pleasant food odors to the rank of unwashed bodies that crammed into the narrow lanes between stalls. That everything was not built for someone of Merlin's small stature became frighteningly apparent. All he could see were legs and swirling skirts, as if there weren't any heads or torsos attached, and he couldn't see any of the interesting wares for sale unless he stood on tip-toe and peered over the edges of the tables and counters.

But then Gwaine crouched down and patted his shoulders. "All right, up with you!" Merlin hesitated, then scrambled up to sit on the knight's shoulders.

"There's a good lad," he said as he adjusted Merlin's position and stood up.

Merlin clamped his hands around Gwaine's face, frightened by the sudden change. Gwaine gently pried his hands off his eyes, moved them to his forehead and gripped Merlin's ankles. "Don't worry, I've got ya. Isn't this better? Now you can see."

And it was better. He felt as tall as Percival and nothing seemed scary anymore. They wandered around for a bit examining the wares that Merlin could now see easily. He spotted a stall selling pasties and meat pies and tugged at Gwaine's ear until the knight acknowledged him. He pointed at the food. "Can I get one?"

Twisting his head to look up at him, Gwaine grinned and playfully squeezed his ankles. "We've only just started, mate. Trust me, you'll want to see a bit more before you decide where you want to spend your money."

Merlin sighed as Gwaine carried him away. He wasn't all that hungry yet, but the pies had smelled so good.

They eventually found a minstrel and stopped to listen to a few songs. Gwaine took a seat off to the side and plopped Merlin onto his lap. "I need a break from your bony little behind, mate. You're heavier than you look."

Giggling, Merlin settled back against Gwaine's chest and closed his eyes. The lilting melody reminded him of how his magic might sound, and his mind filled with a swirl of colors he imagined his magic would look like if it were something visible. Gwaine gave the man a few coins and had to literally carry Merlin away, slung under one arm like a bundle of firewood, when he refused to leave.

That nearly caused a tantrum until Merlin remembered that as Secret Sorcerer he couldn't do those kinds of things anymore. He apologized and got to walk on his own two feet, but with his left hand securely gripped in Gwaine's right.

It became tougher not to throw a fit as the morning dragged on. Merlin's legs were tired from all the walking and he was really getting hungry now, but Gwaine was chatting with a pretty young girl selling shiny baubles and ignored Merlin's hints that he wanted to go.

However, someone else noticed his plight: a woman with a long, blond braid and wrinkles around her eyes. She was soft-looking, like her lap would be as comfortable as a cushion and her hugs like a warm blanket. After a particularly whiney, ". . . but I'm hungry," she opened a small bag and handed him a sweetmeat.

"There you are, darling."

Merlin popped it in his mouth and savored its strong flavor. "Thank you," he said, remembering his manners once it was gone. He eyed her bag and tried to look as pathetic as possible. Maybe she'd give him another.

"Sorry, lad, but I got to sell the rest," she told him.

Immediately, Merlin turned to Gwaine, tugging at his sleeve. "Gwaine. Gwaine! Can I have my money? I want to buy more treats."

The pretty girl at the stall giggled and looked at him. "I think your little friend his trying to get your attention."

Merlin flashed her a grateful smile and tugged at Gwaine's arm again. The knight glanced at him, eyebrow arched. "Yeah, Merlin?"

He pointed at the woman with the sweetmeats. "I want to buy treats. I'm hungry."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Gwaine readily agreed, his attention already back on the girl. "Gotta fatten him up somehow," he explained to her as he let go of Merlin's hand to fish out the coins from Merlin's mother. He dumped them into Merlin's cupped palms and ruffled his hair. "He's a bit skinny."

"Well, you're a bit hairy!" Merlin stuck his tongue out at the knight and stomped his foot. He was not skinny! His mum said he just wasn't done growing yet.

The pretty girl burst out laughing and then covered her mouth. "He has a point. You do have lots of nice hair."

"Not as nice as yours, my dear," Gwaine said, winking at Merlin as he gave the girl a rakish bow.

Ignoring the silly grown ups, Merlin held his hands out to the blond woman. "Can I buy more treats?"

She glanced at the coins in his hands, plucked out one and handed him the bag. "There you go, love. Don't eat them too quickly, or you'll make yourself sick."

To show her what he thought of that advice, he shoved three into his mouth at once, hardly able to chew around his mouthful. The woman smiled at him and said, "I suppose boys will be boys."

In a couple of minutes, the bag was almost empty and Merlin was ready to admit that maybe she'd been right. His stomach ached and he felt sluggish and sleepy. He rubbed his eyes, but that only made his face as sticky as his fingers. Now he felt downright sick. Miserable, Merlin dropped the bag and curled up on the ground. If he took a nap, maybe his stomach would feel better. He blinked once, twice and the last thing he felt before passing out was the kind woman scooping him into her soft arms and pressing a kiss to his temple.


Percival appreciated standing head and shoulders above everyone else, especially when walking through the lower town on a crowded market day. Gaius had finally figured out which potion the sorcerers had used to change Merlin and had sent the knight out to get the rare herbs he would need to make the antidote. Percival had gotten everything and was on his way back when he spotted Gwaine flirting shamelessly with a pretty, young brunette.

Rolling his eyes at the typical antics, Percival sought Merlin, who had to be somewhere nearby. Even a flirting Gwaine knew better than to ignore his duties, especially when that duty involved protecting a friend. He spotted a familiar mop of black hair only a few feet from the roguish knight as an older blond woman hefted a limp, unresponsive Merlin into her arms.

"Gwaine!' Percival bellowed, charging through the crowd toward them. Gwaine's head snapped up, and he saw something in Percival's expression that set him searching for Merlin.

Gwaine swore loudly upon finding his charge in the arms of a stranger. He barely had time to draw his sword when the woman threw out a splayed palm and muttered a word. Her eyes flashed gold, and Gwaine went flying back into the pretty girl's stall. People screamed, and the sorceress disappeared in the ensuing panic.

Growling, Percival forced his way to Gwaine's side and helped the knight to his feet. The smaller man wobbled, pressing a hand to the back of his head. His fingers came back stained with blood, but Gwaine didn't seem to notice. His eyes didn't look focused.

"Merlin!" He lunged forward and would have fallen if Percival hadn't caught him.

"He's gone," Percival stated bluntly. "You well enough to report to Arthur?"

"I turned him loose for just a second! He was eating . . . ." Gwaine bent down, nearly toppling onto his face, and retrieved a small bag. "I let go of his hand to give him the coins his mother sent. He wanted to buy some sweetmeats."

Percival squeezed Gwaine's shoulder hard enough to distract him from a bout of self-recrimination. "I've got to warn the guards to lock down the city. You need to tell Arthur what's happened and have Gaius treat your injuries."

Gwaine nodded dumbly and staggered toward the castle. Percival watched just long enough to make sure he wasn't going fall and sprinted toward the city gates.


The mad panic started to work against her as Irina struggled to reach the city gates. Perhaps if she didn't have an armful of unconscious child to carry, she might have been able to push through. Eventually, she made her way to an alley, unoccupied but for a few mangy cats that glared with wary, yellow eyes at her intrusion on their territory. If only that giant of a knight hadn't shown up, she could have vanished into the throng. But now she'd been seen. And the alarm had been raised. Fighting to keep calm, she focused on her back up plan.

Emrys was, as Tibalt had said, a rather pretty child, delicate and almost too thin. Gently, she laid him on the cleanest patch of ground and hurriedly worked his limp little body into the dress, half afraid he might break if she wasn't careful. It seemed almost impossible that something so seemingly fragile could contain such an unbelievable amount of power.

Irina's heart fluttered and she stroked his cheek, grimacing at how sticky it was. (They'd remedy that as soon as she got them both to safety.) She'd always wanted a child, but wasn't willing to pay the price Uther had to overcome her barrenness. But now, in her autumn years, she'd been given a chance to nurture Emrys into the figure of legend he was meant to be. She ran a hand through his raven hair and tenderly tied the headscarf over it. One day the greatest warlock ever known might even call her mother.

A scrap torn from her extra dress served to hide her own hair. That knight couldn't have gotten too close a look at her, but hair as gold as hers was easily remembered. Satisfied, she shouldered her pack, lifted Emrys into her arms and worked her way toward the city gates. Unfortunately, that giant knight was there and the guards had shut the gates. She forced herself not to flinch as the man's steely gaze passed over her. He showed no sign of recognition, and Irina exhaled in relief. At least the disguises worked, but getting out of the city was going to be harder than she'd anticipated. They'd have to lay low for a few days, then leave when the king's vigilance waned.

At another inn, Irina took a room for her "daughter" and herself. Though the innkeeper showed them no more interest than he would an insect, his wife seemed quite taken with the unconscious bundle in her arms. A quick lie about her daughter being ill got her a sympathetic look, but the woman stopped fussing over the child to let "her" rest.

The room was small, but clean. Irina settled Emrys on the bed, then sank to sit on the floor beside him and pulled out her mirror.

"What's wrong?" came Tibalt's immediate response. They'd agreed not to make contact again until that night.

"I've got Emrys, but I was spotted taking him," Irina wrote. "The city gates are shut, so we'll be a bit delayed. I'll send word when we finally get out."

"Be careful, Irina."

"I will."

She sighed and secured the mirror in her pack. Hopefully, she had enough of the drug left to keep the boy sedated until they were safely out of Camelot. She didn't want to resort to the magical binding. But for now, all she could do was wait for an opportunity to escape.