AN: Dedicated to Ocean Mint Leaves, who always encourages me to write as much Hunith as humanly possible. ;)
Prompt: The Hearts of Camelot Challenge: Hunith
Characters/Pairings: Hunith, Merlin
Ratings/Warnings: Taken from 1x10
Word Count: 646
Purposeful
It was more beautiful than she remembered it being, and it took her breath away—just as it had the moment she first laid eyes on the sturdy glittering walls, the graceful towers and buttresses, and the lively Lower Town.
The city had grown, that much was very clear. But concerning the people, she remembered a very different Camelot.
Before, laughter rang throughout the streets, children romped and played without supervision, and friends called out to friends. It had been lively and sunny, and the whole world had seemed to be peacefully sighing with satisfaction.
Hunith looked around and was saddened by what she saw. Where there was once happiness and prosperity abound, there was suspicion, hardship, and the subtlest pervading feeling of fatigue, fear, and discontent. There were still shouts and calls, but smiles were harder to come by; faces were drawn, eyes were cast down, and children were clutched to mothers' sides. Most people hardly looked up or so much as grunted when they accidentally brushed against her, they were in such a rush to go about their business.
This is what Uther's Purge had done. It not only poisoned the life of those with magic but also those without.
And she had sent Merlin here? To this? To a Camelot that hated him and his gifts? To a Camelot that was no longer safe, no longer free?
She shook her head, banishing the guilt and regret. She wouldn't have even considered it if she knew that Merlin wasn't strong enough to handle the anti-magic sentiment pressing from all sides, and she trusted that Gaius could protect him. Keep him and his secret safe.
It was in Camelot that Merlin could have a future… so that he could learn to use his magic for the good of all…
She knew her son's heart—inside and out—and Hunith knew that he was destined for something more than a farmer's life.
It had become apparent from his and Gaius' letters that that even she had underestimated Merlin's power and destiny.
Saving the Prince of Camelot… Saving the King, despite his cruelty and harsh laws…
"Mother?"
Her head whipped around to see her son, who was carrying a pail of water and whose eyes were gleaming with disbelief, and it was then that she felt it.
She had always had this sense of Merlin's magic. Even as she held him in her arms for the first time, Hunith had felt its presence… She could feel it rolling, restless, pacing, wandering, and wild. Whenever he was scared, angry, upset, excited, she could tell by the flare, the jump, the spike—the density of it, the sharpness or softness of it, the size of it.
They had worked so hard to hide those flares of lost control.
His magic…it was the same, but different.
It was beautiful. It was warm. As it always was. It still leapt under his skin and through his veins. But… as powerful as it had grown—for Hunith was well aware that Merlin had begun to learn real spells—it was more pure than she could ever remember it being.
Pure. Controlled. Purposeful. That—that was why.
Merlin had found his calling—in Arthur, she realized with awe.
Hunith didn't even care that people might stare. She didn't even care that she dropped a nameless something that she had been carrying. She just ran to him, pulled him into her arms, and cradled his face.
"Merlin!" she cried, gasping a laugh of complete joy at seeing him again and at the feeling of the wondrous changes...
Suddenly, any thought of telling him what she could see of his growth disappeared when Merlin's face darkened, and he asked, "What happened?"
Hunith's face fell, and her hands faltered as his trembling, gentle fingers brushed at the bruise over her eye.
"Who did this to you?"