Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin, or any of its characters. OCs are mine, though :)
When Daegel was five months old, Emery suggested to Hunith that they officially make her children Druids.
"They already are Druids," Hunith said, confused. "Their father's a Druid."
"They don't bear our mark," Emery pointed out. She tapped the triskel symbol on her throat. "Every child gets it once they turn two years old. Emrys is eight, Mordred is five, and Sefa is three. It's high time they got their marks."
"If Uther finds this camp and they bear the mark of a Druid, he will kill them," Hunith whispered. "I refuse. Balinor doesn't even have the mark. Why should they?"
"Balinor is a Dragonlord first. It is his birthright."
"So they are Dragonlords first, too!"
"No, only Emrys is. The gift passes to his eldest child. And Emrys has shown interest in receiving the mark. Balinor never did."
"I refuse," Hunith said again.
"Why don't you let the children decide, Hunith? You've been here for almost two years already. It's only proper that they become official Druids."
Hunith eventually submitted to her mother-in-law's request and the children were asked. Almost immediately, they agreed. To Hunith's great surprise, Gilli asked to receive the mark as well. Sixteen-year-old Will refused. "I'm not even magic-born," he said.
So one wintery night, Maud recited a spell and the mark appeared on her children. Em's was on his collarbone (just below the neckline of his shirt), Mordred's on his right bicep, and Sefa's on the back of her left knee. It was a painful process—Sefa and Mordred bawled. Em stayed dry-eyed and stony-faced.
Hunith watched her third eldest in a mix of fear and awe. He sometimes frightened her. He seemed too wise for his eight years, with his advanced magic and soulful gaze. He always wanted to save the world—he cried for hours, inconsolable, when Iseldir told them a small camp of four Druid families had been found and slaughtered by Uther's men. "I wanna stop it, Ma, I wanna stop it," he told Hunith when she tried to comfort him. "How do I stop it?" He constantly helped animals, too. He nursed a little starling that fell from its nest the previous summer, and the bird would come and perch on his shoulder even now. He also had a shepherd puppy who had been the runt of a litter.
Although she knew little about magic, she did know something was different about her son. Not when he could master a spell in five minutes that Balinor said took him four months to. Not when, as Em sang the lullaby she named Mordred after, a ring of roses grew around Mordred's feet. She sensed something primordial in her son and his magic—something as old as the stars.
She knew the other Druids in Sábháilte noticed it, too. Iseldir spoke to the boy as if he were a colleague, not his nephew. The elders treated him with great respect, when it should have been the other way around. "There goes Emrys," the Druids murmured to themselves when they saw the boy walk by.
He was just little Merlin in his mother's eyes.
Shortly after Em turned ten, Iseldir sat Balinor and Hunith down at his table after fieldwork was done for the day. "I've taught Em all I can," he said.
Balinor thought for a moment. "He can study with Mother next, he has much to learn in regards to the healing arts—"
"His talent is wasting on healing," Iseldir cut in sharply. "Healing spells teach him discipline, yes, but his magic is suited for more powerful spells. I am a Seer. Yes, I have an extensive background of healing and esoteric magic, but ultimately I am a Seer. I am not suited to teach Em. He needs a more powerful sorcerer as his teacher."
"But you're the most powerful sorcerer in the camp," Balinor said. His eyes widened. "You're suggesting we send him away?"
"No," Hunith growled. "We are not sending him away."
"What about his Dragonlord training? He can focus on that now, now that he has three years of rudimentary instruction under his belt."
"His instruction is far from rudimentary, Balinor," Iseldir chuckled. "And I want to send him to a Dragonlord. A Druidic one, of course."
"I am the only half-Druid Dragonlord left," Balinor ground out.
"What about Ruadan?"
"Ruadan is one-fourth Druidic. His mother came from a distinguished Dragonlord bloodline, and his father was a half-Druid Dragonlord. He's hardly a Druid. I don't even think he speaks Druidic."
"Ruadan does speak it, brother, and quite well. He also bears our mark. Ma cast the spell herself."
"When was this? I was never informed!" Balinor said in shock.
"When you were in Ealdor, shortly before you married Hunith. It was a sign of good faith and unification of two magical peoples during this dark time."
"I should have been told."
"Ma did not want you backing out of your betrothal and coming here. She knew how happy Hunith made you, and knew if you found out Ruadan was elected as the Dragonlords' ambassador to our people—"
"WHAT?" Balinor roared. "I should be the ambassador. I am neutral. Ruadan will always be loyal to the Dragonlords first. It is my duty!"
"I have no doubts about Ruadan. It is you I should worry for, brother. You fail to see that your duty lies with your family!" Iseldir yelled. When Balinor froze, Iseldir shook his head. "I did not mean to raise my voice, Balinor. But my point is, I believe Em should be sent to live with Ruadan. He teaches a small group of the most powerful Druid children in a secret place a few days' journey away from here."
"Em won't want to go," Hunith whispered.
"He does," Iseldir said. "He wants to learn, and to serve his people to the best of his ability. This is the only way."
Reluctantly, Hunith and Balinor agreed to send Em to study under Ruadan. After the shedding of many tears and Em promising to scry every night, the boy and his uncle began their journey to Ruadan's hideout.
"It's not very… comfortable," Iseldir said when they settled down for the night. He cast a magical shield around their camp that put a glamour over them and masked the light of their fire.
"What's not comfortable, Uncle? Your bedroll?" Em asked, confused.
"Ruadan's little school. It's even more isolated than Sábháilte, and with even less people. Do you think you live with the same four people for the next year or two and not go insane?"
"It'll just be like living with my family. It won't be bad at all," Em said dismissively. "Besides, they're more like me, aren't they? Ruadan's students?"
"They're very gifted, yes," Iseldir murmured.
"That, and they're kinda different, right? They don't exactly fit in?"
"You fit in, Em! Your family adores you."
"I know they do, Uncle," Em said with a sad little smile. He would miss his parents and siblings. "Good night."
"Good night, Em," Iseldir said. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Em stayed awake, mulling over the possibilities of what this new period in his life might bring. He hoped he liked Ruadan and the other three students. He was terrified of not "fitting in", as he had said before. In Sábháilte, the other children kept their distance. Em was the boy who got his own special lessons with Iseldir and knew more spells than the teenagers. His siblings kept him company, sure, and he was never lonely, but he had never made any close friends there. Even in Ealdor, his mother had kept him isolated to hide his magical gifts. He hoped the three others would be like him. He hoped they were warm, and accepting, and kind.
He hoped.
With dawn came increased anxiety and nervousness. Em fidgeted the entire journey, worrying away at his bottom lip with his teeth. Finally, the stream Iseldir and Em had been following emptied into a tiny little lake. There was a great view of the mountains. Near the shore of the lake was a small hut and stables. As they came closer, Em saw there was an apple tree directly between the hut and the stables. At its base stood a massive stump. Three smaller stumps formed a semicircle around it. He furrowed his brow in confusion and pointed it out to his uncle.
"Ruadan always teaches outside. He feels students learn more when they are surrounded by Nature and Her beauty."
Em hummed in agreement. "This truly is a lovely place."
When they were five hundred feet away from the hut, a massive dog raced from inside the stables, snarling and snapping. When he saw Iseldir, he stopped. His feathered tail started to wag.
Alarmed by the commotion, a man in his thirties ran out of the hut with a sword in his hands. Iseldir waved, and the man lowered his sword. "It took you long enough, Iseldir!" the man called.
The hut's door opened and a little girl poked her head out. She spoke softly to Ruadan, and the man nodded. She stepped outside, and was followed by a taller girl and a preteen boy. "My nephew here slowed us down," Iseldir said with a chuckle. He dismounted, and Em did the same.
"I did not, Uncle!" Em exclaimed. "You were the one who stopped every four hours for a break."
Ruadan laughed and clapped Em on the back. "I like the lad already, Iseldir. Now, be polite and introduce us." He spoke Druidic, and quite well. Em was impressed.
Iseldir rolled his eyes. "Emrys, meet my old friend Ruadan. He's a Dragonlord like your da. Ruadan, meet my nephew, Em."
"So Em's an Initiate, eh?"
"What's an Initiate?" Em inquired.
"It means you're a future Dragonlord," the little girl said. She had long black hair and dark brown eyes.
"Thank you, Freya," Ruadan said, smiling fondly at the girl. "I shall introduce you to my other students, Em.
"This is Freya. She's seven and a Shifter." Freya waved and offered him a shy smile. Em smiled back.
"This is Alvarr. He is thirteen." The preteen boy simply inclined his head. He was handsome, with sparkling eyes and an easy grin. "Alvarr is training in defensive and healing magic."
Ruadan jerked his chin towards the last girl. "Meet Adelina. She's eleven. She's a fire mage."
Em squinted. "What's a Shifter?" he asked.
"You don't know?" Alvarr scoffed. Ruadan glared at him, and the boy shrank back a little, ashamed.
"A Shifter is a magic-user whose power is changing into an animal or magical creature. A Shifter has only one alternate form. They are very rare these days, which is why you probably haven't heard of them."
"Are they only Druids?"
"No, Shifters are found amongst a variety of magical peoples. Freya herself is a rarity; Druidic Shifters are few and far between."
Em turned to the girl. "What is your 'alternate form'?" he asked.
"A Bastet. It's—"
"A winged panther. Wow, I can't believe you can turn into a magical creature. That is so awesome!" Em's eyes lit up.
"You can all talk later. Let's go inside, I have supper cooking on the hearth." Ruadan ushered them all inside. Before he shut the door, he commanded the large dog to guard. It went back to its post at the stable.
The hut was a single room, but the hearth and the flowers hanging from the ceiling made it feel cozy. Em was surprised to see the Druidic custom of flower hanging in a Dragonlord's home. Straw lined the earthen floor, and five pallets were rolled up and stacked in the corner. A rickety table and benches took up about a third of the space. Three massive chests were shoved against one wall. Em surveyed his new home with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
"Supper smells good. What're you cooking, Ruadan?" Iseldir asked. He sat down at the table. Em took a seat next to him.
"Rabbit stew."
"Who killed the rabbit?"
Little Freya smiled. "I did."
Alvarr propped his hands on his hips. "You did not! I set the snare."
"I broke its neck."
Alvarr rolled his eyes. "If you say so, Freya."
"Alvarr, Freya—stop squabbling," Ruadan said sternly. No one could deny the fondness in his voice, though. "Be thankful we even have this food; so many go hungry every day."
"Yes, Ruadan," they muttered.
"Well, I'm quite excited for stew. The most meat we get back home is fish. My mother does not believe in eating game, except on special occasions," Iseldir declared.
"I share the same belief. However, I figured Em's arrival to be a special occasion," Ruadan answered. Em smiled a bit.
"We look forward to having a new face around here," Adelina added eagerly.
"I look forward to getting to know all of you," Em said politely but genuinely. He really was excited. He missed his family, sure, but the prospects of furthering his magical studies and making new friends lessened his sorrow.
After they finished eating, Ruadan and Iseldir wanted to catch up. They sent the children outside for some privacy, and Em was left alone with the children who could make his stay here enjoyable or miserable.
They all stood there for a minute or so, eyeing each other nervously. "What magic can you do?" Alvarr finally asked.
"I've got the basic Druidic spells mastered. As for specialization, Uncle taught me fire spells, and my grandma's a healer so I've gotten lessons from her, too."
"Emerald the Banríon's your móraí, innit tha' righ'?" Adelina asked in Common. She spoke it with a heavy Camelot peasant's accent. Em recognized it because his mother sometimes spoke like that when she was tired.
Em laughed a bit. "My móraí is no banríon," he said in Druidic. Banríon meant queen. His Móraí Emery, a queen? She'd worn the same faded blue dress all the years he'd known her, and her fingernails were permanently stained black from dirt. She had rough, callused hands. She was the farthest a woman could get from being a queen.
"Everyone calls her that. We used to have a royal family, you know, back when there was a Druidic kingdom. They all had green eyes. Their eyes were like emeralds, they say," Adelina said in a hushed whisper. How odd, Em thought. She spoke Druidic with no trace of a peasant accent.
"She's one of the elders, sure, and she always takes charge, but she's hardly a queen…" Em trailed off.
Alvarr rolled his eyes. "Adelina likes the old tales too much. She dreams of a Druidic kingdom, and thinks your granny should be its queen."
"Is my móraí well-known?"
"She's a legend!" Alvarr stared at him incredulously. "She saved hundreds of our people during the Purge by setting up most of the hidden camps. She's loved by all."
"Oh," said Em, dumbfounded.
"How did you not know?"
"I wasn't raised with the Druids. My father rejoined his mother's people when I was seven. This is the first time I've ever left my camp in years."
Alvarr slung his arm around Em's shoulders. "We'll teach ya, Emrys. Wait, you prefer being called Em, right?"
"That's what most people call me. It's a family nickname that stuck," the boy admitted.
"Em," Freya said. "It's different. Not weird, though."
"You have to show us some of your spells, Em," Adelina said. "You said you know fire magic?"
"A bit," Em confirmed.
"Show us!" Freya pleaded. "Ruadan won't let me do fire spells until I'm ten."
Em grinned a bit and held out his hand. A small tongue of blue-green flame appeared on his outstretched palm. His eyes glowed gold.
"You can conjure your own internal flame?" Alvarr demanded. "Only the most talented fire-magicians can do that. Adelina can only do it for ten seconds, and it exhausts her. She's said to be one of the most talented fire-mages in a generation, too."
Adelina ducked her head in embarrassment. "I'm not that good."
Em let the flame go out. He held his hand above the ground. "Watch this." Again, his eyes turned gold. A small stream of water surged up from the ground, swirling in the air.
"You're an elemental mage," Alvarr suddenly said. "You have to be."
Em shook his head. Elemental mages were the stuff of legends. Cedran told him tales of them one night. They were conceived by a union between magic and Nature Herself. They were the most powerful mages, drawing their power directly from the earth. Their magic was basically limitless in regards to spells regarding the four elements—earth, water, air, and fire—since their source of magic came from the earth itself. "My cousin said they were just bedtime stories."
"Ruadan said theoretically they can exist. In times of great evil, Nature sees the need to send an elemental mage to bring balance back to the earth. So through a sheer force of will, she combines with the earth's magic and brings one into being. She chooses a worthy couple to be the mage's parents, and places the child in the woman's womb."
"Nature will do anything for balance," Em said, echoing what Iseldir once taught him.
The Druids treated Nature as a deity, referring to Nature as 'Her' and practicing a form of magic based on Natural philosophy. At the center of Nature was balance, and the desire for good. That was why the Druids excelled in healing and prophetic magic. When someone hurt another, the evil act created an imbalance in the world. A healing spell countered it with good and therefore restored the balance. Druid Seers could try to prevent great acts of evil they glimpsed in their visions, thus preventing the balance from being disturbed. If people were brutally murdered, the Druids had funeral rituals that helped appease their restless, distraught spirits.
The concept of Nature daunted Em. Most peasants did not follow any particular religion, the extent of their spirituality being old superstitions passed down for generations. In the years since the Great Purge, most had come to associate organized religion with magic and evil. Those who practiced them found themselves on the pyre, burnt alive. They were best to avoid. Along with this, Em had been raised this way by parents who taught him from birth that his magic would lead to his death if discovered. Even once he became a Druid, he had a hard time accepting and understanding the Druids' veneration of Nature. He sort of just nodded along during religious activities, there but not really participating.
"That's right! It's been proven throughout Druidic history and legend. So why couldn't She will an elemental mage into existence?" Alvarr asked.
"She could!" Freya said eagerly.
"My air magic is rubbish, and there are no living experts on earth magic," Em said. "So I don't have mastery over the four elements."
Alvarr mulled over this. "Even if you're not an elemental mage, you're still quite powerful. That's why you're here, right?"
Em gave a slight nod. Alvarr clapped him on the back. "Don't be bashful, Em! We're just like you. We won't get jealous or scared of you. I promise. Right, girls?"
"Right!" Freya and Adelina chirped.
"So folks back home didn't like you either?" Em asked quietly.
Alvarr shrugged. "My power was seen as a gift, not something strange or bizarre. It did me no good. My parents, my sisters, and my brother were killed by Camelot knights when my camp was attacked." He set his jaw.
"I'm so sorry," Em whispered. "I hate Camelot, and her king."
"We all do," Adelina said. "People thought I was weird. I struggle with the most basic spells but I can put out a forest fire with a wave of my hand." She looked down. "I think Ma was glad to see me go."
Alvarr shook his head. "She sends you messenger birds all the time, Lina!"
"It's my sister's writing, I know it," Adelina muttered.
Shooting her friend a concerned look, Freya said, "My ma's a Shifter, too, but she's spying right now so I can't stay with her. My da wanted me here for my protection. He says I'm too valuable to our people to stay with him."
"Is Shifting painful?" Em's eyes were bright with curiosity.
"No. It's natural." Freya answered his unspoken question when she asked, "Do you want to see?"
"Yes!" Em said excitedly.
Freya turned to Alvarr. "Put the charm on my clothes, Al!"
Rolling his eyes, Alvarr touched her dress sleeve and muttered an incantation. His eyes glowed.
Em watched intently. "What does that charm do?"
"It will allow her clothes to return to their original form. It keeps her from shredding every outfit she owns." Alvarr rolled his eyes. "Go for it, Freya."
Freya's eyes glowed, and began to transform. Her nose elongated into a muzzle, and her hands turned into paws. Her torso contracted, and her arms and legs shrank. Two wings grew from her back, shredding her dress. Finally, a Bastet cub stared up at them. Freya chirped and put her paws on Alvarr's legs. Her paws barely reached his knees. Her wings flapped.
Pick me up! Freya demanded, speaking mind-to-mind. You all look so big up here.
Em didn't often use mind-to-mind speaking. It made his mother and older brothers feel left out, as they could not do it. His father only really used it when he was fighting with his siblings or his mother and didn't want his wife to overhear. Almost all of Em's lessons had been taught out loud in Druidic to help him master the language. I thought you'd be…bigger, Freya.
I won't reach my full-size Bastet form until I'm fifteen or sixteen, Freya explained as Alvarr scooped her up. She scrambled up to perch on the older boy's shoulder.
Alvarr winced when Freya's little claws dug into his shoulders. "Ouch, Freya!" he cried.
Sorry! she squeaked.
Can you fly? Em asked.
Not yet. I can glide, kind of. Freya suddenly leaped off Alvarr, causing him to groan as her claws once again dug into him. She spread her wings and glided through the air. She landed delicately on her paws. She looked up at Em smugly, waiting for his reaction.
He applauded loudly, whooping. Adelina and Alvarr joined in, laughing.
Em had the lingering suspicion he was going to like it here, in this little hut by the lake.
A/N: Yay, Freya's here (along with Alvarr and an OC)!. I tried to delve further into Druidic culture and practices in this AU. As always, thanks to everyone who favorited, followed, and reviewed! Especially reviews, I love them and they make my day.