Long time ago, Gaius had told me that if I sent Merlin to Camelot, he could help him learn how to control his powers. I didn't want my son to go; he was only three years old and I thought it would have been wrong to separate such a small child from his mother. Now, ten years later, I could finally see how selfish I had been back then. I wanted to keep him near me because I had no one else in the world and I was terrified of being left all alone. I thought that I would be able to handle him without knowing anything about magic, but I turned out to be wrong. And, because of this, because of me, he had to spend his childhood in terror, and I couldn't do anyhing to make life easier for him. I was the worst mother in the world, and I didn't deserve all that love and affection he had towards me.
Yet, even after our first serious fight, I still didn't have the strength to ask Merlin if he wanted to move to Gaius'. I didn't want him to go. He was just a boy, it was too dangerous for him. What if something happened and Uther found out about his magic? If only Gaius hadn't lived in Camelot, if only he hadn't been the king's physician, it would have been so much easier to let Merlin go.
By the age of fifteen, he grew a lot more concerned about his powers than ever before. He strongly believed that his magic had a reason and his life had a purpose, and he was desperate to find out what his destiny was about. This was just another one of the things I could not help him with, and it brought back the guilt I had felt long years before.
He, on the other hand, helped me more and more as he grew older. He got stronger and worked hard to make sure everything at home was nice and tidy. I had no reason to complain; while the other women in the village were struggling with the housework all the time, my dear boy was constantly looking for the opportunity to make himself useful around the house, leaving me plenty of time to rest. Of course he also took advantage of any chance to hang around with Will and make as many mischiefs as possible.
I knew well that he didn't keep his promise about not using magic. I never told him, but I wasn't blind. Giving Will fresh strawberries in the middle of winter, or coming home in a shirt that looked exactly like the one he was wearing in the morning but had a slightly different colour – all of these things made it obvious. And he never mentioned magic at home anymore. At first I sort of felt betrayed and angry for he still didn't recognise the danger he was in. But then I started to realise that he grew physically stronger and fitter, he slept better at night and had much less nightmares than a few years ago. He didn't look as healthy and carefree as I wanted him to be, but he was happy. Only then I came to understand what he had meant by saying he couldn't quit using magic. This didn't keep me from worrying about him, of course, but for the first time in my life I was finally able to see a tiny piece of what was inside his head. I decided to give him a chance, no matter how terrified I was of losing him. He would turn sixteen soon, after all. Almost a grown-up.
I should have known it was too early to do that.