notes: This fic is set in an AU that has Ealdor raided and Merlin forced into slavery at the age of twelve, long before he comes to Camelot. It's still the canon universe, though. This is a slave!fic. It is not a happy genre with lots of potential for triggers and squicks. There is all kinds of abuse and trauma, implied and definite. I promise a very hopeful ending, but not without things going dark and angsty first. If you can't handle dark, including from Merlin and Arthur(!), please don't read.
Btw: Almost all named characters are canon characters! Check the Merlin Wiki if you don't remember the likes of Halig, Ragnor, Myror, Nollar, Tind(a)r and Derian. I didn't either, but I needed some bad guys… ;)

Written for the Whumptober 2022, prompts: Whipping (No.10), No one's coming (No. 16), Forced to Kneel (No. 23), Defiance (No. 29)

cross-posted to Ao3


Hunith was sure that, any moment now, her heart would jump right out of her chest.

Her pulse was frantic, her blood rushing in her ears, almost loud enough to block out the sounds of the screams and shouts outside. She was cowering in a corner of Old Simmon's stables, a trembling Merlin huddled against her. He was clinging to her with all his might, his face hidden in her shoulder, his breathing too loud, too ragged. Every once in a while, he let out a frightened whimper.

Perhaps a twelve-year-old boy should no longer be whimpering in his mother's arms. Perhaps he ought to fight in situations such as this. Perhaps he should be out there, trying to keep the raiders at bay. Perhaps he should be using his powers. But Merlin was young for his age, skinny and gangly, and had a sweet disposition. Hunith didn't want him to fight. She wanted to keep him safe. Desperately.

So they were hiding together, nothing but a heap of straw between them and the men raging outside.

It wasn't enough. Eventually, they were found. A bearded man reeking of sweat and blood dragged them out of their hiding place and pushed them out into the open.

Still, Merlin was clinging to Hunith, his fingers clawing into her arm as they were herded to the village centre with the other survivors, mostly women and children. Out of the corner of her eye, Hunith could see Will and his mother, though Will's father was nowhere to be seen. Hunith tried not to look too closely at the bodies they stumbled past, fearing what she would see, whom she might recognise there.

As they came to a halt, Hunith pulled her son close again, drawing his head against her chest, trying to shield him from view. Already, the raiders were circling them, beady eyes roaming over them.

Finally, a stocky man in a studded leather jacket stepped forward. He didn't look like he had been fighting, but seemed to be the leader of the group. He let his eyes wander over them, assessing their worth, then ordered, "Keep the boys and pretty girls." A grim smile. "Kill the rest!"

Hunith's eyes widened in fear. Not a moment later, Merlin was mercilessly pulled from her arms by one of the raiders.

"Merlin!" she shouted, just as Merlin screamed, "Mother! No! Mother, please!"

Hunith took a step forward and stretched her arm out desperately, calling her son's name again, seeking out his eyes. They were wide and frightened and blue. Then, they turned golden.

A shockwave ran through the village centre. Hunith fell backwards and a ringing sound started up in her ears. Momentarily, she felt disoriented, the world turning and twisting about her. When she came to her senses, the people around her were already scrambling to their feet.

"Ah, shite, this one's got magic, Halig!" a rough voice shouted.

"Get the collar!" another one yelled. "Don't let him get away!"

All around Hunith, people started to run, to flee, dashing from the group and towards the houses beyond. But the raiders had recovered as well, raising their swords and shouting angrily. Screams of pain, splatters of blood, and people were on the ground, either writhing or already motionless.

Hunith drew herself up, the ringing in her ears finally subsiding. She got to her feet and frantically looked around. She had lost sight of Merlin, though she could still hear him scream. There he was, struggling in the arms of a raider who was trying to wrap a piece of metal around his throat. Hunith started forwards, every instinct screaming at her to go and get to her son, to keep him from harm.

Sharp, hot pain seared her left side, driving the air right out of her lungs. A choked sound was wrenched from somewhere deep within her chest. She stumbled, then fell to her knees, her hands automatically coming up to clutch at the source of her agony. Her dress was already soaked.

She looked up and saw the grim face of a raider, blood-covered blade in hand. He grinned.

"No! Mother!" Merlin screamed.

Hunith toppled over and her world went black.