Old Souls

A/N: Ok, In the last chapter we heard about Barak, now it is Myrddin's turn! I hope you like this one!

Chapter Song: All The King's Horses - by Karmina

Chained

Galit groaned as he tried to breathe in deeply but only succeeded in choking on his own blood. The aqua haired man knew he was dying. He had after all been run clean through the chest with a large two-handed sword and there was no doctor around who could help him. Managing to tilt his head to the side the man barely stopped a snarl of anger from slipping past his lips as he took in the sight of his gentle sweet wife lying on her side, her eyes open and dead looking as she shuddered in one breath and then another. She too was nearing death tho hers was because of the small dagger slid in between her ribs and up into her right lung. He watched blood bubble up from her lips as she mouthed a word and then was still.

'Myrddin.' there child's name. The child who was even now trying to escape from the stranglehold that one brutish man had around his tiny neck. An angry hiss escaped Galits lips as he struggled to move. They had already taken his wife from him, he could not allow them to take his son too. Trying to stand Galit froze as a tiny cry of pain came from the same direction as his son's captors where.

'Damn it! They snuck up on us, we got too comfortable and did not take enough precautions. Damn, Damn… Damn.' twitching slightly the man managed to get to his feet hacking out a glob of blood as he steadied himself. Blinking back the darkness that threatened to drag him under the teal haired man charged at the man holding his son.

Myrddin meanwhile froze in mid-struggle as he watched his father fling himself at the man choking him with a snarl on his face. Horror slid down his spine and a tiny gasp escaped him as his father only made it about two feet and then was turned into a human pincushion by at least half a dozen iron spears.

"N-NOOOOOO! PAPA! PAPA PLEASE!" He barely registered his shouting as his father's body hit the ground with a gruesome splat. His hysterical shouting drowned out the highwayman's chuckles and jears as they dragged him away from his parents bodies.

"Knock the little shit out. His voice is grating to my ears. We just need him to be mostly unharmed for the sale after all." A taller man shouted as he lead the small group of bandits away from the slain couple.

That was the last thing Myrddin remembered before he woke up in a cage with a thick metal band around his throat. A slave, he had been made a slave. An ironic smile crossed his face as he remembered how vehemently against slavery he had been back when he had been Hermione. It had been a trip to the national museum of history when he or rather she at the time had first found out about slavery. It had disgusted her so much that it had been something that was nightmare inducing to the young girl and now here he was, a slave.

It was not to long after he awoke when he was taken to the auction house. Apparently, as a magician, he was worth quite a lot to some people. As he was ushered up on stage with his chained wrists held by a brutish man with filthy yellow hair Myrddin wondered vaguely just what the people who were now clamoring to bid for him saw. Did they see a young boy with curly snowy white hair and defiant ocean eyes looking at them in contempt or did they just see something that they could use as a status symbol? To own a magician was the height of status around these parts, only eclipsed by owning a fanalis.

"Going once, Going twice and Sold to Lord Jamil. Get the runt off the stage and to his new master." The announcer said as he quickly wrote down an amount of coins by a simple description of Magician in a small grimy scroll.

Myrddin was dragged off stage and over to a tall young man who looked like Christmas (that they did not have in this world.) had come early. Myrddin looked at the man out from under his lashes taking in the self-important look and the slightly unhinged gleam in the man's oak brown eyes. This was not a man to cross, he would likely beat him half to death for an imagined slight and enjoy it while he did so.

The small white-haired boy glanced around the man quickly taking in the two people with him. The first thing he noted was that both people where slaves like he now was. The second thing he noticed was that the girl, who could not be any more than ten, was a fanalis. A slightly startled look came to his face before he relaxed it into a blank mask once more. He could not afford to show much emotion if he did it would likely be used against him sooner or later.

"Hmmm, well isn't he tiny little Morgiana?" The man, Jamil he believed his name was, asked the fanalis girl who stared blankly at Myrddin before nodding slightly. Jamil then chuckled slightly before he walked up to the white-haired boy and tilted the boy's head up then side to side to get a good long look at what he had bought.

"What amazing eyes. I have never quite seen eyes that color, and that hair, pure white." He tugged on the child's long curly hair that reached his mid back. "A bit lengthy, but it looks good on the child. Why he's almost as exotic looking as you are Morgiana!" Jamil said in a jovial tone. Myrddin made sure to keep his eyes blank as a part of his mind absently noted the slightly sadistic look in the man's eyes. He did not want that directed at him.

The fanalis girl shuffled slightly and peered closely at the boy in her master's grip. She could see that the boy despite all looks to the contrary was very aware of what was going on around him. The dull eyes were sharp in there casual disregard of everything. Morgiana could also see that the boy was rather pretty, or was it handsome, despite the large bruise on his right temple. At about seven or so years old the boy already had a sharp jawline that would likely become the base for his good looks along with his high cheekbones and coloring.

'Royal.' She absently noted. 'He looks like he belongs to royalty.'

Not that that would help him at all. Lord Jamil was a harsh master who liked to use both physical and psychological abuse against anyone he felt had wronged him. She herself could still feel the marks from the cat o'nine tales that he had used when he had almost allowed her to escape only to stop her the moment she had made it to the courtyard of the small palace that he owned. She hoped that the boy would be careful or the Lord would break his will like he had broken hers.

And so Myrddin was made a slave to the cruel Lord Jamil. Only time would tell if he could come out of it intact and sane.

Years later the boy would look at his friends and wonder if it had been fate or the man who had reincarnated them who had lead him to be sold as a slave to that particular person. Then he would look into bright gold eyes that watched him with a fierce kind of love in their depths and decide that it didn't matter because he had gotten so much more in return for a few years of suffering.

A/N: Ok, who saw that coming? I wanted both Hermione/Myrddin to know a bit about true hardship before he saw Harry/Barak again. Hermione at the time she died had only known a life filled with love from her parents and other family so she had a fairly happy childhood, abit with some bullying, while Harry had a rather shitty childhood and will now have to learn how to actually care more for people other than the few who get through his walls. Anyway I hope you liked this chapter! ^^