Mothers know everything.
They know when their child is happy or hurting, when they are excited or scared, when they're going to listen to their mother's advice or completely ignore it. But for a while now Hunith had been known nothing about how her son had been faring and as much as she loathed the circumstances of his return, a small part of her was glad to have him back in her sights.
She could see how much Merlin had grown in the short time he had been away from Ealdor. He was confident, so sure of himself and his place among his friends, unlike before where he'd started to shrink to the sidelines of the people here, no longer fitting in with them or their beliefs. No-one here was expressly anti-magic but distrust ran deep and anything new or unexplainable was quite often feared.
And though he would forever be forced to keep it a secret, she'd always made sure to remind him that his magic was a gift, an honour bestowed upon him that he could use for good. Which meant she could also see when her beautiful, brilliant son was going to do whatever it took to the save the lives and home of his friends and loved ones. No matter the cost.
The battle was pure chaos, if you could even call it that. It was probably tiny compared to the many battles Prince Arthur had fought to protect his kingdom, but to the people of Ealdor it was nothing they had ever seen before. Kanen had ransacked their village and taken what food they could grow for many harvests, but now these simple farmers were fighting for their homes, for their families, their faces exuding a determined resolve as their sticks and pitchforks met their enemies swords.
And still, amongst all the chaos, Hunith knew exactly where her son was.
He was holding his ground for the most part, putting the sword he'd been given to good use, but when a powerful whirlwind began to build, she knew exactly what, or rather who, was causing it. Because even she could see that they were losing the fight, so of course Merlin was going to do what he could to save them all - in spite of himself.
She wanted to rush forward and stop him, to protect him before anyone saw, but within seconds it had already done it's job. The cries of Kanen's men travelled on the wind and she watched as their hands grabbed uselessly at the wet mud as the magic took them away. The men furthest from Merlin tried - and failed - to escape and she gave the closest of them a final, satisfying bonk with her broom handle before he too was swept away by the wind.
Everything was over. She thought it was over. The men were gone and her friends were smiling, dropping their weapons as they patted each other on the back and checked their neighbour was still alive. And her boy was safe.
It seemed like no one had witnessed his miracle, until the prince himself spoke up.
"Who did that?" He demanded and Hunith could have sworn his voice echoed around the village. Her heart plummeted as she watched Merlin and Will fluster, so obviously attempting to come up with a half convincing lie that would placate Arthur's accusations. She's seen that look in her son's eyes before, way back when he was younger, normally after being caught doing something he shouldn't have. There would be a slight glint of mischievous rebellion as his mind whirred away looking for a believable excuse. But she could always tell. And he never got away with it.
This time though, she prayed the Prince of Camelot wouldn't see through her son's lies as clearly as she could.
Neither boy spoke up, just glancing at each other as if trying to communicate telepathically, trying to work out who would speak first and who would take the fall. But then there was movement from behind them and even from the other side of their muddy battlefield Hunith watched in almost slow motion how her son pushed his childhood best friend out of the way and blocked the fateful path of the flying arrow before it hit the Prince.
The world stood still. A silence filled moment that seemed to stretch forever. Then there was movement all around her all the villagers rushed forward, watching as Arthur gave an almost feral battle cry as he drove his sword through Kanen's chest, finally defeating their last remaining enemy.
Hunith saw the moment her son fell and she thought her heart might stop from the sight of it. She couldn't get to him quick enough, instantly dropping the broom, hitching her skirt and running past her neighbours who could do no more than stare at the fallen boy. Damn it, why did she have to be fighting so far away. Will and Prince Arthur were already crouched by Merlin by the time she reached them, the wet mud churned up by the fight was coating the knees of their trousers, a lot more than the blood was coating Merlin's chainmail.
Maybe it's not that bad, she desperately thought to herself as she joined them in the mud. Maybe I'm just jumping to the worst possible outcome.
But no, as she looked from her son's pained face to his chainmail covered torso, she felt the blood drain from her own face. The arrow was lodged in his side, the splintering wood sticking upright with it's makeshift feathers atop the mere few inches that hadn't pierced his chainmail - pierced his skin. The armour was supposed to protect him!
As she had watched him getting ready that morning, struggling to lift the chainmail over his head, she'd been glad to see that her son would be protected. Her beautiful, incredible son who would never have actually needed any armour to shield himself from an oncoming attack. At least he would be protected. And she wouldn't have to worry.
"Help me get him inside." Will's frantic voice filled the silence around her and then everything was moving again. Will grabbed under his arms while Arthur lifted his legs and very quickly her son let out a heart piercing cry as he was raised off the ground and carried into their house.
Hunith followed them all through the doorway and watched as everyone instantly got to work. The Lady Morgana grabbed a blanket from the chair in the corner and folded it quickly to place under Merlin's head as the boys lowered him onto the table while Guinevere rushed around grabbing some cloths and a bowl of water from the kitchen like she'd memorised exactly where Hunith kept all of her belongings.
Hunith wanted to move closer, though with four people already crowded around her son she loathed to take up more space and get in the way. But when Merlin let out another sound, something halfway between a sob and a strangled cry, her feet moved before they could be told not to.
"Merlin, it's okay, I'm here." She spoke softly as she ran her fingers through his hair. It had always been a soothing gesture, something she used to do when he was sick or couldn't sleep. She doubted he was taking any comfort from it right now.
The hand closest to her kept lifting off the table, flailing like he needed to hold where it hurt but didn't want to make it worse. Without drawing her eyes from her son's face, she grabbed his hand gently, settling it back on the table as his fingers gripped hers tightly.
"Mother…" He whispered as tears began to build in the corners of his eyes. She had never seen him look this scared before, not even when he had felled a tree back when he was only fourteen and Farmer Simmons had chased him and Will all the way to the house, pitchfork waving violently in his hand the entire time.
He'd been scared then. Right now he looked terrified.
His breaths were coming in quick gasps as he tried to lift his head to see what the others were doing. Arthur was lifting the chainmail to press some cloths to any blood bubbling up past the arrow but even Hunith knew it would be no use. The outside of the wound wasn't the problem, it was what was inside that was going to kill her son.
"We need to get this armour off." Morgana commented, wincing in sympathy at the added pain they were all causing.
"We can't do that without taking the arrow out." Will spoke up, his usually commanding tone dampened with worry.
"No." Merlin gasped and all five heads turned to face him. "You— you can't take it out. Gaius says you can't— Just makes it worse."
Will placed an encouraging hand on his shoulder to get him to lay back down. "Well, it can't stay in forever, okay? We have to take it out."
He moved past Hunith to the head of the table to clamp both of Merlin's shoulders down against the wood and an unspoken look was passed between everyone. They all wasted no time in holding Merlin's legs and arms, readying themselves for the pain that their friend was about to endure. Checking everyone was in position, Arthur wrapped one hand around the arrow, his fingers curling gently as they held on tight and instantly he yanked it free from where it had buried itself in Merlin's side.
Merlin's legs tried to kick involuntarily against the pain and his mouth opened as if to scream but no sound came out, like the action had taken all breath from him. As blood started to flow through the links of the chainmail, everyone starting moving again. Will and Morgana worked in tandem to get Merlin into a sitting position and then any hands that could reach were lifting the chainmail up and over his head. The sight of his tunic made Hunith's stomach turn, it looked so much worse now that the metal was no longer hiding the truth from them. The dark brown material was soaked even darker by the large patch of blood that was steadily growing.
Hunith held Merlin's hand tighter as she felt his grip weaken and she watched as her son's eyes fluttered closed, head lolling against his chest, weight falling back as Will lowered him down once more. Guinevere grabbed more cloths to forcefully press against the wound as Morgana found a corner to dump the armour in but all Hunith could focus on amongst the frantic atmosphere was the shallow rise and fall of her son's chest.
Once they had managed to stop the bleeding somewhat they moved Merlin over to the bed. He had awoken briefly as Will carried him in his arms but quickly fell back into a fitful rest as soon as his head touched the soft pillow.
Merlin had always looked so peaceful sleeping, even on the days when he had seriously annoyed his mother. Especially on the days he had seriously annoyed his mother. There he would lay, quiet and still, save for the occasional scrunch of his nose or shuffle of his head against the pillow. But right now, he was too quiet, too still, and Hunith longed for the days when she could scoop him into her arms and never let him go.
The only people in the room right now were Merlin, Hunith and the Lady Morgana. Will and the Prince had done all they could to help for now, but after standing to the side and looking far too lost for Morgana's liking she had sent them out to help the villagers deal with the aftermath of the fight.
They had actually succeeded in defeating Kanen after all, an outcome that many of them truthfully did not think would come to pass. She would not deny them their happiness at the victory and felt an underlying sense of guilt at not being out there to help clear the many bodies of their enemies.
She didn't even know if anyone else was hurt, her sole focus having been on her own child, but she was sure that Will would be able to handle it all. He was his father's son after all and leadership was in his blood. She had no doubt that he would step up and rally the people to get the village back in working order. Or if nothing else, it would give him something to do to keep his mind from worry about his childhood best friend.
Hunith gently brushed the hair from his forehead as he let out a pained whimper, hushing him softly though she doubted it would make much of a difference. It hurt to see her son in so much pain, even more so because there was nothing she could do to stop it.
She dipped a cloth into the bowl of water that was resting on the bed and placed it on Merlin's forehead. His temperature was already rising as a fever began to take hold but she hoped that the coolness against his skin would placate it for as long as possible.
"Here, Hunith." Morgana spoke up from behind her as she held out a cup for her to take. Her fingers were delicate as she passed the drink over and Hunith was reminded all over again of who exactly it was that she'd taken in over the past few days. The Lady Morgana was extremely important within Camelot's walls. Being the King's ward she was practically royalty, and yet here she was wiping the blood from Hunith's table and making her drinks while she stayed at her son's side.
"Thank you." She smiled as she took a sip of the cool liquid. She would never fully be able to express her gratitude at being waited on by the King's ward. Nor would she be able to convey her thanks at how kindly she treated Merlin, how kindly they all did. When Merlin first wrote to her announcing that he'd found a job as Prince Arthur's servant, she'd been worried that he would be treated badly, but it warmed her heart to witness the caring nature of the people that Merlin now surrounded himself with.
As she refreshed the cloth for Merlin's forehead, the door to the house opened with a creak. Guinevere gave her a small smile before standing by Morgana, the two of them clasping hands as they watched Farmer Simmons enter behind her.
Old Man Simmons - as Merlin had always called him - was a long-term farmer, farrier and all-round complainer of everything and everyone. But he was the closest thing their small village had to a healer. He never much liked Merlin, so when Guinevere had been sent to fetch him, Hunith honestly wasn't sure if he'd show.
She hadn't seen him during the fight, but you could tell that he'd been in the thick of it. He looked tired, mud coating the cuffs of his trousers, blood still on his face from a cut that had already started to scab, but regardless he shuffled over to Hunith's now vacated chair, dropped his heavy, fraying at every corner, bag to the ground and pulled up Merlin's tunic to take a look at the wound.
His face gave nothing away as he prodded the reddened skin beneath the bandage, only huffing in response as it had Merlin groaning even in unconsciousness. He lifted his bag back into his lap and rummaged through the contents, sounds of glass clinking against each other filling the silence of the room. Hunith knew a little about the medicines and remedies used to heal wounds and abate sickness thanks to her time spent with Gaius - not enough to heal an arrow wound to the stomach, mind you - but enough to understand the purpose of the ready-made poultice Simmons was scooping out of the small clay jar and spreading across the hole in her son's side.
Merlin gasped loudly as he did so, head thrashing back on the pillow against the obvious pain it was causing. The poultice would be crucial in helping him recover as at this stage an infection would be just as deadly as the blood loss he had already suffered, but that didn't make it any easier to witness. Before Hunith had a chance to step forward, Guinevere was already rushing to the empty side of the bed, dropping down to the mattress to clutch at his hand as she spoke gently to him.
"Shh Merlin, it's okay. It's okay." She whispered as she kept a firm hand on Merlin's shoulder. Every touch from Farmer Simmons no doubt felt like fire under his skin as it caused him to buck against the bed, his back lifting in an uncoordinated attempt at escaping the prodding fingers.
Every now and then he gave out a small cry around his gasping breaths and Hunith could feel the tears building in the corners of her eyes. She pulled the shawl sitting around her shoulders tighter against her chest, watching as her son wouldn't settle, even with his friend's caring touch. As Farmer Simmons wiped his hand roughly against his trousers, Morgana moved closer to her, placing a gentle arm against her back as she rubbed the length of Hunith's spine reassuringly. The touch was quite unexpected and almost motherly, but it was exactly what Hunith needed to compose herself, as if Morgana had drawn some of the pain from inside her, to share the burden she was feeling.
Poking through his bag once more, Farmer Simmons lifted out several small vials one at a time, shaking each one firmly or peering at the label before finding what he was looking for. He slid his palm under Merlin's head, lifting it slightly as he instructed Guinevere to hold Merlin's nose, before tipping the cloudy white tincture into his mouth. Merlin spluttered against it but very quickly allowed himself to swallow it, his head rolling lifelessly as it was lowered back to the pillow.
With his job done, Farmer Simmons stood with an impatient haste and limped to the door without saying another word. Hunith wasn't surprised at his eagerness to leave - he never much liked her either. Between harbouring Balinor all those years ago and raising a child that caused him more grief than Will caused the village on harvest day, the two of them weren't exactly on speaking terms.
Lady Morgana, however, was clearly taken aback at his abruptness as she stepped in front of Hunith to get his attention before he managed to slip out of the door. "Will he be okay now? What you've given him— will that help?"
"I'm no trained healer and these remedies are my own, so there's no guarantee they will do anything." Simmons answered her gruffly, eyes flitting over to the door as he made it clear he couldn't be held accountable if it didn't work.
Hunith must have been showing every ounce of fear she was feeling, undisguised in her features for all to see, for as soon as he accidentally made eye contact with her he softened ever so slightly. "All you can do now is watch and wait. Just tend to his fever and— make him comfortable."
Hunith swallowed roughly at his words, her hand gripping Morgana's that seemed to have made its way into her palm. Simmons may not like her but in this moment his words weren't intended to be harsh, just truthful. A ruefully plain-spoken fact informing her to prepare for the inevitable.
It was past midnight and Merlin was quiet. In fact, the whole village was quiet. It had been a long day and after bandaging their wounds and burying their dead, everyone had been eager to get to bed. Hunith could still feel the guilt at not being with them - this was her village too after all, her friends, her neighbours, she should have been around to help - but there had been somewhere more important to be.
Merlin had been resting fitfully for most of the afternoon, his fever raging on as he tossed and turned amongst the sheets, but as the sun set and the night grew just a little bit colder, her son had fallen silent. Even in the dim candlelight it was impossible to ignore how pale he had grown and his slow, shallow breaths had Hunith fearing to leave his side.
Guinevere and Morgana had taken charge with the dinner, not allowing Hunith even a moment to protest their actions as they quietly got to work after the first low rumble from Hunith's stomach. The girls ate at the table, speaking in hushed voices, as Hunith stayed in the chair beside the bed, slowly forcing herself to eat the kindly prepared broth.
They cleared and washed the bowls just as quietly and efficiently as they had filled them, peering over their shoulders every now and then to check for any change as Hunith moved to replace the latest bandage wrapped around Merlin's midriff. The wound had stopped bleeding heavily hours ago, but the spots of blood had continued to stain the fabric over the course of the day and they'd all been very proficient in keeping them clean.
The girls retired not long after, laying out their blankets and pillows to form the bed they had been sleeping in for the past few nights. Hunith couldn't blame them, in fact she had actively encouraged them to get some rest, they had been helping nonstop with Merlin and their slow, uncoordinated movements proved just how weary they were.
Listening to their gentle snores, Hunith yawned widely as she did her best to stay awake, to keep an eye on Merlin for any change or deterioration, but before long she too succumbed to sleep.
She didn't hear the boys let themselves into the house, but she did feel the heavy weight of the blanket as it was draped around her shoulders, the sudden weight waking her.
"Oh I'm sorry Hunith." Will whispered quietly as he made sure the blanket wasn't going to fall. "I didn't mean to wake you."
Hunith shook her head with a sleep-ridden smile. "It's okay. How is everyone?"
She watched as he sat on the other side of the bed and wet the cloth to place back on Merlin's forehead. She couldn't have been asleep for long but still Merlin seemed to be growing worse, the deep purple of his eyelids darkening against his waxy complexion.
"As good as can be expected I guess. Today was hard on a lot of them but they'll be okay. Even after everything, there was still this strange sense of pride in everyone, you could just feel it in the air. It came at a cost but they saved their village today."
"How many—" Hunith cut herself off before she could finish the question. She hated to ask and honestly, with the way she was feeling right now, part of her just didn't want to find out. But of course, Will knew exactly what she was trying to say.
"Three." He replied solemnly, the guilt of every death sitting heavily on his shoulders. "Thomas Brewer, Peter Sallow and Beatrice Alwyn. We thought it best not to wait so we buried them alongside Matthew."
Hunith felt a lump form in her throat as tears stung her eyes. She had been fighting alongside Beatrice just this morning and poor Peter couldn't have been older than Merlin, more friends cruelly taken from them by Kanen's treacherous forces. It was all over now but the price still felt too high. She didn't bother asking what they had done with Kanen and his men.
Will made himself busy smoothing down the blankets around Merlin's waist, giving a small semblance of privacy to allow Hunith a moment to grieve without his watchful eyes. He always was such a good boy.
"How has he been?" He asked soberly, watching Merlin with a furrowed brow. Hunith had been by his bedside all day, but for Will, the last he had seen of his friend was a half-alert pain riddled Merlin, so this rapid decline over half a day had to be a shock to see.
Hunith ran a thumb over the paper thin skin of Merlin's knuckles as she spoke. "Not good. He hasn't really woken at all but I can tell he's in pain and his fever hasn't gotten any better. But you know how strong he is. He'll be okay."
The lump in her throat returned as she willed herself to believe her own words. All afternoon she had been clinging to the belief that Merlin would be okay in the end, despite the evidence in front of her, simply because her heart wouldn't be able to handle anything else.
She rubbed at her eyes in a weak attempt at clearing the tears and tiredness from them and almost jumped as a new voice spoke from just behind her. He had been so silent, she hadn't even realised that the Prince was in the room with them but it made sense that he had come back with Will.
"Get some rest Hunith. We can stay up with him."
She turned in her seat slightly to see where Arthur had spoken from and was only mildly surprised to see him leaning against the wall near the foot of the bed, arms folded tight against his chest as he looked down at where Merlin lay. His face was stoic but Hunith had spent enough time alongside him under her roof that she saw through his tough exterior easily.
Arthur was the Prince of Camelot. The strong, courageous knight who could take down his enemies with one fell swoop. He could be kind and encouraging but would never show weakness or fear or even familiarity if it came too close to friendship. He was a leader and a fighter and with a father like King Uther he would never be allowed to become acquaintances with his servant. Except Hunith had seen them together. She'd seen her son working, eating, sleeping alongside the man he was paid to serve and the bond between them was obvious to see. Maybe not to everyone, but to a mother, it was as clear as day.
He had travelled all of the way to their tiny, middle-of-nowhere village, had rallied the people and spent hours trying to train the men all because his servant had needed some help. The Prince cared about Merlin whether he wanted to admit it or not.
Which is why Hunith could see that he wasn't standing back to give them space or to let other people do all of the work, it was because he feared for the wellbeing of his friend and he didn't know how to get closer without making it obvious.
He was offering to stay awake through the night with only Will for company though so if he was trying to hide it, he wasn't doing a brilliant job.
Hunith wanted nothing more than to accept his offer as she felt the depths of sleep tugging at her eyelids, but she couldn't rest yet. She needed to stay awake for her son. Just in case. "It's okay, I didn't mean to fall asleep."
Neither man fought her on it, the reasoning behind her answer unspoken yet obvious. If the worst came to worst that night, they all wanted to be awake.
They fell into a comfortable silence for a while, the whistling of the wind outside the only noise breaking through. Merlin mumbled every now and then in his sleep but showed no signs of waking. Both his fever and breathing seemed to have gotten even worse over a short period of time and as the sun's rays had yet to break over the horizon, Hunith wondered if that night could possibly get any longer.
Just as she was about to unwillingly doze off again, Arthur's voice broke through the silence from where he was still standing guard against the wall.
"Was it you?" He asked no one in particular but it was obvious who he was talking to.
Will didn't turn to face him. Even after everything he was still stubbornly refusing to get along with the Prince. "Was what me?"
"The magic."
That made his head shoot up, first to glance at Arthur and then Hunith. As they locked eyes across the bed, Hunith could see his mind racing. She knew he would never reveal Merlin's secret, especially with the state her son was in right now, but would he take the blame himself? Ealdor fell outside of Camelot's borders, but the Prince might still want to inflict a punishment for the use of magic in his presence.
The silence was deafening as he frantically tried to think of a response, not even the wind outside could break through the tension, but as he opened his mouth, an unknown answer on his lips, Arthur continued.
"…Can you heal him?" The Prince asked so quietly Hunith thought she must have misheard. With the anger he had displayed earlier when the spell had first been cast, surely the Prince of Camelot wasn't now asking for someone to perform magic right in from of him. Will looked just as surprised at the solemn tone and desperation in his eyes.
Will shook his head regrettably. If he did have magic he would have healed Merlin in a heartbeat, consequences be damned. "No."
Arthur seemed to deflate at this, as if he had been waiting all night to ask that forbidden question, secretly hoping that the answer would be yes. So much for trying to hide the familiarity.
Will ran his hand through his hair as he glanced at Hunith again, her eyes narrowing in confusion at whatever he was planning. Then he turned to Arthur, so nonchalantly in an obvious attempt at getting away with whatever he was about to say.
"I saw who did it though. It wasn't any of us. It was one of Kanen's men." He turned back to Hunith as if she was completely unaware that every word was a lie and she didn't know whether to be proud or exasperated.
Of course he would do anything to keep the blame from Merlin, but Will had never successfully lied to her face before - and he'd had a lot of practice. Here's hoping the first time would be in front of the Prince. "That big, burly guy with the scar across his face. I saw him do it."
Arthur's narrowed eyes mirrored Hunith's as she waited patiently to see if the lie would be believed. "But the wind— it took out all of Kanen's men. Surely he wouldn't have cast a spell to take down his own people."
Will grimaced at them both in a rather convincing attempt at feigning guilt. "Yeah, I think that might have been my fault. I killed him, just as he finished casting it, just as it was about to hit me. I think me killing him must have reversed the spell or something like that."
"You sure?"
"Arthur, I'm not exactly an expert in magic." Will replied with just a hint of defiance, keeping his voice low so as not to awaken those sleeping. "I only know what I saw and well— that's the only logical explanation that makes any sense to me. So unless you can think of something else?"
Arthur didn't speak, his eyes not straying from Merlin's face and Hunith could see Will's overconfident demeanour begin to falter the longer he took to reply. It was an extremely far-fetched story that Hunith had no doubt would be discounted now that he was taking a second to think about it. But to her surprise he nodded slowly, finally stepping away from the wall and taking a seat next to her.
"Okay."
Will nearly gave everything away as his eyes widened in disbelief but whatever face Hunith directed at him had him schooling his features in an instant, looking away from them both before his astonishment at being believed became too obvious.
Not that it would have mattered. Arthur was far too busy watching the rise and fall of Merlin's chest to notice anything else.
Morning came all too slowly after a restless night's sleep but as Hunith peered blearily around the room, she was glad to see that the boys had managed to get some sleep too.
It had taken some convincing - on all of their parts - but ultimately they all knew they would be no use to Merlin come the morning should they all be too tired to keep their eyes open. Will had mirrored Hunith, not moving from his seat on the other side of the bed while Arthur had returned to his previous night's spot on the floor.
None of them had spoken out loud their fears that something would go wrong as they slept, that Merlin would no longer be with them once they woke, but as Hunith now watched the gentle movement of her son's chest, she thanked anyone who was listening that her boy had not been taken from her during the night.
Running her fingers through his sweat-drenched hair she noted that his skin felt cooler to the touch than it had before, not enough to believe his fever had broken, but a sign that it was lowering. It also may have been the trick of the light, but it looked like a blush of pink was returning to his cheeks, his overly pale pallor looking a little less deathly.
Hunith clutched her hand to her chest, trying to contain the sudden storm of emotion that was brewing inside her and her heart ached as she did so - the good kind of ache that made you feel almost giddy. She knew how strong Merlin was, she'd seen it ever since he was a babe in her arms, and she'd had every belief that he would make it through this. But it was only now— now that her dear son had proven his strength to her once again, that she allowed herself to admit just how terrified she had felt last night. Merlin had always managed to heal just fine, after every sickness and every injury, Hunith had almost grown accustomed to the belief that nothing would be able to take him down. But this time had been different. She had almost lost her son, her baby boy, and that ache would never have healed.
The rest of the house woke soon after with no one looking quite as rested as they all would have liked. Before Hunith even had a chance to offer everyone breakfast, Will was already preparing it and before she could help clear the bed sheets away, Morgana and Arthur had already gotten to work, folding them neatly in a pile just out of the way.
Guinevere joined Hunith at the edge of the bed, commenting with a smile at how much better Merlin was looking. She pulled back the sheet to reveal the bandage and Hunith was pleased to see only a few spots of blood had seeped through during the night. Guinevere wordlessly went about replacing them with gentle hands and a practised swiftness, but it seemed she wasn't quite gentle enough.
"Ow."
The sound was so faint, barely more than a choked-off whisper, and yet everybody under Hunith's roof heard it. They all dropped their various tasks and rushed over to the bed, their eyes wide with hope. Guinevere's hands stilled against the bandages as she looked up, watching with a small smile as Merlin furrowed his brow before slowly blinking open his eyes.
He squinted against the light shining through the window and Hunith could tell he was only half awake but as he peered around the staring faces she watched the clarity - and confusion - return to his gaze. Instinctively he lifted his hand to reach for where the arrow had entered the skin but she caught it before it could do any damage.
"Careful. Your friends worked hard to fix you up." She said gently as she watched Guinevere finish tying off the fresh bandage. Merlin only half noticed his friend's movements, instead focusing on the face closet to him.
"Mother?" He whispered, his voice quiet and croaky from the previous day's tears and screaming. He groaned as a wave of pain washed over him, eyes slamming shut against the throbbing in his side.
"It's okay, I'm here." She slowly rubbed her hand up and down his arm, trying to give him something to focus on other than the hurt.
She'd spent so many hours feeling sick to the stomach at the sight of him still and silent that it had almost overshadowed how much it ached to see her son in pain.
"You got hurt during the fight. But it's going to be okay."
"The fight?" Merlin echoed under his breath and in an instant it was like the last remnants of fog lifted as the previous day's events crashed into him. "The fight! What happened? Did we win?"
His friends passed glances between each other, a look of pride washing over them. After the heartache of burying the dead and fear of almost losing a friend it had been easy to forget the good that had come out of it all. They had taught a bunch of inexperienced farmers how to fight, before successfully defeating an almost impossible enemy and saving a village that so many important people called home. They'd won.
"Yeah. We did." Morgana beamed at Merlin. "Kanen's dead and the rest of them— I reckon they're gone for good."
"And we're all still alive. Thanks to you." Arthur nodded, blissfully unaware of just how true his words were.
"Yeah I mean for a scrawny guy you're surprisingly good with a sword." Will butted in mischievously. He'd always know how to tease his friend just enough to cheer him up. "I think you might have even been better than me."
"…Well that's not exactly difficult." Merlin replied with the cheekiest grin he could muster under the circumstances.
"Oh that's how it is, is it?" Will's laughter was almost like the invitation the others needed to join in and suddenly the house was abuzz with noise once again. Morgana moved to stand at Guinevere's side, hand resting comfortingly on her maid's shoulder as they both began to talk in excited voices whilst Will and Arthur stayed at the foot of the bed. Guinevere pulled the sheet up to cover Merlin's bare stomach as Will made another joke and while Arthur's friendly slap on the back in amusement caused him to stumble, nothing could wipe the smiles from any of their faces. And Merlin, clearly still fighting through the pain, watched with joy as they did so.
Hunith stayed silent as they chattered away, content to let the happiness of the room wash over her. She had almost lost her son last night but he was here, alive, smiling, surrounded be people who loved him - something she feared she would never get to see.
Mothers were supposed to know everything, when their child is happy or hurting or excited or scared. But for too long now Hunith hadn't known. Her little boy had been out in the world alone, no longer under her watchful eye and she'd had no idea if he was okay. But seeing him here, encompassed by friends, by people who cared for him, who refused to leave his side when things got rough, it gave her the peace she never knew she needed.
And in that moment, she knew, her son had finally found a place to call home.