The Sorcerer of Camelot
Summary: Merlin, secretly raised by King Uther, discovers that his magic is not a curse, but a blessing. With the help of the Druid Guinevere and the knight Arthur, can Merlin make Camelot a safe place for all its citizens?
Rating: T, just 'cause.
Disclaimer: I own neither Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame nor BBC's Merlin.
Prologue
In the early hours of the morning, a thick fog hung over the city of Camelot. Only the turrets of the palace could be seen looming through the haze. The inky river flowed silently just inside the walls of Camelot, a constant water source for the people.
A small boat coursed swiftly through the water, steered along by a dark-hooded man at the stern. His passengers sat low, cloaks drawn tightly around their shoulders, hoping to avoid detection. Their only chance of survival was to enter the city and get to safety as quickly as possible. It was a long and treacherous journey for their persecuted people.
The silence was shattered by a harsh wail, startling the boat's occupants.
"Shut it up, will you?" one of the men, Balinor, snapped lowly.
"We'll be spotted!" hissed the other, Iseldir.
"Hush, little Emrys," whispered the lone woman to the swaddled infant in her arms. Her desperate eyes shone down at the child, bouncing him slightly. The baby was hungry, but there was no time.
Luckily, Emrys seemed to realize this and fell silent. His bottle blue eyes sparked gold for a fraction of a second, and Hunith felt the warmth of tender love spreading through her chest. Her baby's eyes slipped closed and he appeared to go back to sleep.
At last, the steerer pushed the boat toward the dock and stepped off, kneeling to tie off the rope so it didn't drift away. Once the passengers were on land, shuffling their feet in the snow, Agravaine held out his palm. "Four silvers for safe passage into Camelot."
Just as Iseldir was pulling out his pouch to pay the man, an arrow swooshed through the air and struck Agravaine's oar with a resounding thwack! The traitor Agravaine quickly dropped the splintered oar and held up his hands in surrender. The passengers wheeled around. They had been trapped!
Balinor gazed up in trepidation as a horseback figure approached. "King Uther Pendragon," he breathed.
Several guards moved forward and took hold of the men to arrest them. Hunith clutched her bundle to her chest, eyes casting wildly for help, for escape. Iseldir and Balinor had already been forced to their knees, and the guards were attempting to push her down, as well. She tore away from their grasping hands.
Uther commanded in a disgusted tone, "Bring these Druid vermin to the Palace of Justice."
"You there!" snapped one guard at Hunith, who flinched. "What are you hiding?!"
Uther turned to her, gray eyes staring coldly. "Enchanted objects, no doubt," he said. "Take them from her."
Hunith stumbled back, eyes wide and fearful. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Balinor manage to tear one arm free and fling it toward her would-be captors, who all cried out as they were magically thrown into the freezing water. She took her chance and sprinted away, nearly slipping on the wet snow.
With an ugly grimace, Uther kicked his horse into motion and gave chase.
Though Hunith was at a severe disadvantage, she was swift, and cunning enough to choose ways that would make it difficult for the horse to follow. She jumped a short gate between two close houses, and Uther was forced to pull back on the reigns and find a wider path. The Druid scrambled to her feet out of the snow drift in which she had landed, Emrys still clutched to her breast.
She needed a place to hide!
Suddenly she remembered something important: even King Uther could not disobey the laws of the Camelot Palace - the church. Those who sought shelter there were safe under the care of the physician! The Palace was easy to spot. It was the tallest building in the city, and she was close!
Hearing hooves pounding toward her, Hunith set into motion once more, beelining toward the church. She cast a terrified glance over her shoulder, only to see Uther gaining on her, hand outstretched to grab her.
Giving a short, desperate sob, Hunith made a detour through a small alley. Emrys wriggled in his mother's uncomfortable hold, whimpering quietly. Hunith didn't dare spare him any comfort. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to escape, to reach the Palace, to save him! save him! save him!
As she drew closer to safety, King Uther began to catch up with her again. He clearly realized what she was about to do, the storm in his eyes growing as it appeared she would make it.
Hunith flung herself at the doors, pushed and tugged, but to no avail. The doors were locked. She kicked and pounded, pressing herself against the cold wood as though she could phase through it. "Sanctuary!" she begged shrilly. "Please give us sanctuary!"
Uther had at last reached her.
Hunith spun around, narrowly avoiding being trampled. She pushed herself to her feet and made another break for it, but Uther's grasping hand had found the swaddle. He apparently believed whatever was inside it was giving her the strength to outrun him, and by taking it away he could overpower her.
With all her strength, Hunith held onto Emrys, but a swift, well-placed kick from Uther's steel-toed boot sent her sprawling backwards down the steps of the Palace. Her head cracked loudly against the cut stone, and she went limp.
Hanging from Uther's cruel grip, Emrys immediately noticed the absence of his mother and began to cry. "A baby?" For a moment the king was startled. The father in him awakened, and he drew the child close to look at him. He gently uncovered the soft blanket that obscured his face.
"No," he gasped, repulsed by the flickering gold that appeared in Emrys' eyes. "A Druid," he hissed.
Uther quickly covered the hideous creature again, looking about for a means to dispose of it. He spotted the well nearby and steered his dark horse toward it. Emrys continued to wail for Hunith even as the king extended the baby over the gaping hole.
A sudden voice, strong and commanding, called out. "Stop!"
The king whipped his head toward the sound, the bundle still hanging above the well. A simple release, and the Druid spawn would die.
"This is an evil sorcerer," Uther explained curtly. "I am sending it back to Hell, where it belongs."
The old physician, Gaius, slowly pushed himself up from his knees on the stairs. "Here you have spilled innocent blood on the steps of Camelot," he said angrily, gesturing to the deceased woman. The snow beneath her head was dyed red, her skin pale and lifeless.
"I am guiltless," Uther bit out. "She ran, I pursued."
"Now you would add that child's blood to your guilt!" Gaius stepped forward, glaring the king down.
"My conscience is clear!"
"You can lie to yourself and your minions," Gaius said. "But you never can run from nor hide what you've done from the eyes," he pointed up to the Palace's religious statues, "the very eyes of Camelot."
A slight suffocating feeling formed in Uther's throat as he gazed up at the figures, the ones to whom he had prayed all his life. His holy wife had joined them not too long ago, honored for having given her life during childbirth. What would she think of him killing a child, regardless of whether it would grow up to be evil? Uther swallowed hard, not liking the answer.
He turned to Gaius. "What must I do?" he asked, at last pulling the Druid away from the well.
"Care for the child," Gaius said. "And raise it as your own."
"What?" the king hissed in disgust. "I'm to be saddled with this horrible..." He paused as a thoughtful expression crept across his face. "Very well. Let him live here with you, in your church."
"Live here?" repeated Gaius. "Where?"
"Anywhere." Uther's eyes traveled up the building as though searching for an empty room to house the child. "Just so he's kept locked away where no one else can see. The bell tower, perhaps. And who knows - Our lord works in mysterious ways."
He glanced down at Gaius, who didn't appear to object, and then smiled contemptuously down at Emrys. "Even this foul Druid may yet prove one day to be of use to me."
"He will need a wet nurse, Uther," Gaius said. "And a name."
"Yes, yes," he said. "I will leave it to you, then." He quickly pushed the baby off on the physician, who took him. Uther flicked the reigns of his horse and started off.
"King Uther," Gaius called. "What of the babe's name?"
"Oh, I don't know," he drawled without stopping. "I suppose we'll name it...Merlin."
"Merlin," Gaius repeated with a sigh. He gave the baby a sorrowful look. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you." He turned to take the child inside where it was warm. He'd have to get help to bring in Hunith's body and to prepare it for her final rest in Avalon.
Emrys, forevermore known as Merlin, cooed softly, sounding sad himself. His eyes flickered gold once more, searching out the familiar presence of his mother's magic, to no avail.