Disclaimer.
As mentioned before updates will be irregular (sorry, its a WIP).
Warnings: Um...I don't think there is anything to warn about...
Canon? What canon? (Seriously, the time line is skewed, the ages of the characters is messed up and I highly doubt any of them are in character...)
###
Arthur took a sip of his watered wine (he preferred not to drink full bodied alcohol in the morning, it left him a little too sleepy for him to spar properly), suddenly feeling parched.
The tension in the room seemed to racket up a notch.
His father, appearing not to notice, neatly sliced off a bit of sausage and ate it.
Merlin fiddled with a piece of fruit speared on his fork.
Morgana sighed.
Well, for a first family breakfast this was going...
Was going...
It was going.
Merlin stared at his plate, eyes only occasionally lifting to dart around at each of them in turn, lingering on the two men like they were about to turn feral and start snapping.
Arthur felt a little affronted. Of all of them it would be Morgana who snapped first, she was just that ferocious.
He caught Merlin's eyes briefly before those blue orbs shot down to the table as though it was the most fascinating thing since jousting. The child fiddled with the food on his fork once again.
Uther cleared his throat. Merlin jumped and Morgana twirled one long dark curl of hair round her finger.
Arthur drained his goblet.
"Don't play with your food." Uther chided.
Merlin stiffened then carefully laid down the fork and sat still and silent, almost as though he had been frozen in place. As though he would be quite happy to sink into the floor and never be seen again.
Arthur frowned, had Merlin even taken a single bite? He'd played with it a bit but not actually swallowed a morsel. He opened his mouth to mention it when a sudden movement caught his eyes. Morgana knocked over her goblet with a deliberate jerk of her elbow and glared at him.
Arthur wondered what was wrong with the woman as she apologised, smiling gently, all signs of that dark glare wiped away.
Silence again fell around the table.
Merlin fidgeted.
Morgana sighed.
Uther wiped his mouth with a napkin before dropping it to his now empty plate before rising to his feet and leaving the room.
Morgana rolled her eyes and left too. By the time Arthur glanced back to Merlin the child was gone, an empty chair and plate of food the only sign he had ever been at the table.
Well, family breakfast...at least it was over.
#
Merlin grinned as he avoided another crack in the cobble stones and hopped onto another chunk of stone.
His mother would walk ahead a bit then wait for him to catch up. He liked walking with Hunith because she didn't get impatient and tell him to move along faster, she let him play his game.
He slipped and only just caught himself in time.
He eyed his mother, not too far away. He looked at the cobblestones that seemed to get smaller and smaller until he was sure even his feet were too big to stand on one. He gave up playing the game, it wasn't really all that fun anyway, and scampered over to his mother. He didn't realise she was talking to someone until he was too close to not continue so he made his way to her side.
It was one of those Knights! Merlin narrowed his eyes; they weren't going to be nasty to his mother. On second glance he realised he didn't recognise this one. That did little to assuage his concerns.
"Merlin," A familiar hand ran through his hair in a caress that Merlin would only ever admit to her he enjoyed. "Say hello to Sir Ewan."
He stared at the Knight watching as he seemed to recognise who he was.
"Oh! You're the prince's..."
Merlin waited tensely for the word. The word that seemed to dog his steps wherever he went.
It didn't come. The Knight looked cross.
"My apologies, my mouth ran away with me." Sir Ewan said stiffly, inclining his head to mother. Her hand ran soothingly over his hair once again.
"Are you enjoying court so far?" Sir Ewan asked, leaning down to look at him.
Merlin tilted his head back, Sir Ewan was very tall.
He glanced uncertainly to his mother.
"Yes?"
Sir Ewan seemed to mull over his response.
"So what have you found good?"
"Um...the castle is nice?..."
Sir Ewan stared at him. Merlin shifted uncertainly.
"I like the statues." Merlin added into the silence, remembering the stone dogs he had petted the day before. Sir Ewan smiled, it looked stiff.
Merlin shrank into his mother's side slightly.
"Ah, there's Gaius, I'm sorry to be so rude but I've got to quickly ask him a question. Won't be long." His mother murmured, gaze distant as she spotted the court physician. She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving him with the Knight.
Merlin shifted, eyes following his mother's retreat. His eyes automatically snapped to the Knight when he moved, kneeling on the stone in front of him.
"That looks painful." Sir Ewan remarked quietly, indicating to Merlin's face but not touching him. Merlin's fingers twitched, almost involuntarily moving to trace the dark bruising.
He shrugged. He'd had worse.
"Hmmm." The Knight murmured, eyes still scanning the mark. Merlin swallowed when he realised Ewan knew exactly how and where he'd gotten the bruise. He squared his chin.
Ewan gave a funny little half smile and rose to his feet, stepping back as Hunith reappeared.
"Just examining his badge of bravery." Ewan said easily with a smile to his mother. Hunith smiled.
"Yes, he's a little clumsy, always tripping over and into things."
Merlin caught the quick glance down Ewan shot and hoped the Knight wouldn't tell his mother the truth of where he got the bruise. Ewan's face cleared.
"Aren't all children?" The two adults shared a laugh before Ewan made his excuses and left.
Merlin glanced thoughtfully backwards as he and his mother continued on their way to view the market.
Sir Ewan seemed alright. For a knight.
#
"If you're lurking in the hallway again you could at least make yourself useful!" Her voice shattered the silence. Arthur fumbled for the candlestick and grimaced as it fell to the ground, the metal clipping against stone in a rather irritating sound.
He debated whether it would be better for his peace of mind to just slink away now before he remembered that he didn't back down from anything.
Not even a...conversation with Morgana.
He slowly entered his doom. Sorry - Morgana's chambers.
"Let me guess, you want to get closer to your new found son yet have no idea how to do so." Morgana said not even looking at him as she examined the hems of three different dresses.
Arthur shut his mouth with a click.
"Please, you're hardly discrete. And he's a nice boy; I can see why you'd want to get to know him."
She put the dresses down carefully on the bed and turned to face him with a rather daunting smirk.
"Since you have it all worked out, what do you suppose I do?" Arthur asked barely refraining from rolling his eyes. This was why he had loitered outside her rooms for so long. At least he could say she snapped before he did.
(He couldn't quite ignore the sourness in his mouth from having to ask for help. From Morgana.)
"I told you." She exclaimed incredulously, looking at him with that superior look she had perfected that said she thought his brains had leaked out of his ears in sheer disgust at being in his presence for one second longer.
Disdainful. Morgana was rather proficient at making grown men feel like they were five years old and knee high to a herring.
"..."
"Get to know him." She was not so restrained in holding back an eye roll.
"How, exactly?"
"Find a common ground! He's eight, it shouldn't be too hard. Now unless you wish to be educated on the subtleties of woman's dresses I suggest you leave before Lady Garr-"
He was out of the room before she said the word 'dresses'.
Well, that hadn't been any use at all.
And he got the vague feeling he'd been insulted.
Huh.
#
Merlin hummed tunelessly to himself as his mother examined yet another stall filled with exotic items.
It had interested Merlin...to begin with. But after the third stall they'd inspected his interest had begun waning. They were now on the twelfth.
He sighed, slumping his shoulders. His mother didn't notice, too drawn into her conversation about the quality of cloth. He scuffed his foot on the ground.
A set of stalls further down caught his attention, gleaming apples piled in a pyramid, coils of meat and the mouth watering scent of freshly baked bread.
Merlin wasn't the only one eyeing those stalls hungrily.
He watched as a boy, only a bit older than him, snuck over to brightly coloured table and got his hand walloped by the man selling the wares for his trouble before he could even snatch at the food.
The boy retreated sucking at his hand, that wooden spoon shaped like a bowl looked like it hurt!
Merlin noticed the boy didn't leave but instead disappeared in one of the shadowed areas close by followed by a scraggly dressed girl roughly the same age.
He eyed them as they approached the stall seller again, inching closer with the plan for one of them to distract and the other to snatch. Unfortunately the man at the stall spotted them again.
Merlin frowned, scanning the area quickly for anyone watching.
Suddenly the large pile of shiny round fruit tilted slightly, one lone apple rolling down followed by a multitude of others gathering momentum as they sped to the ground and off the table.
The stall seller yelped but was too distracted keeping his trousers up to do more than shout as the boy and girl Merlin had been watching crammed their pockets full of apples and fled the scene, ill fitting clothes on their scrawny frames flapping behind them.
Merlin grinned, watching the ruckus over the fallen fruit with no small amount of glee.
"Merlin." A voice sighed, chidingly. He schooled his face into an expression of pure innocence and looked into his mother's warmly crinkled face.
"What?" He asked, a study in harmlessness.
"You know what, you cheeky so and so." His mother said sternly. Merlin ducked his head and shuffled his foot.
"They looked hungry." He muttered, looking up again. Hunith nodded, eyes flickering to the left and displaying a hint of concern before she once again pierced him with a stern look.
"Plus, did you see his face?" Merlin added, gesturing to the stall owner, a grin splitting his face.
"Merlin." His mother scolded again but it lost any sting it could have had when he saw her lips twitch in amusement.
"You should be more careful." She warned, totally serious.
"No one saw."
"This time."
They lapsed into silence, watching the crowd either nicking the apples or helping the man pick them back up.
Merlin picked up one of the red fruits when it rolled his way from someone's careless foot.
"Give that back to the man." Hunith ordered him gently but firmly.
"I was going to." Merlin whined. He didn't know whether to be annoyed or pleased that his mother didn't believe him for a second as she just looked at him pointedly. He sighed and made his way through the small crowd, trying and failing to get the store sellers attention.
Eventually he succeeded.
"Yes? What do you want?" The man snapped.
Merlin silently held up the apple for him to take. The man's face thawed.
"Thank you, lad." He ruffled Merlin's hair. Merlin stiffened at the touch but it didn't last long enough for him to move away.
"You're welcome, Mister." Merlin said, turning to leave but a hand at his shoulder stopped him.
"Take this. Heavens knows I've lost today's crop. Plus it's too bruised to sell." The man said, giving him back the unblemished apple and ruffling his hair once more.
"Thank you." Merlin blinked, returning to his mother.
He glanced back at the much smaller looking stall now the apples were gone and felt a little guilty. But the boy and girl had looked so hungry! Like the hunger after a poor harvest and then a cold winter...and it was sunny today! Merlin didn't even need his jacket.
And the stall owner looked well fed and had coin in his pocket. And his clothing was nice. Not like the nobles he'd seen at the feast but nicer than any he'd seen in Ealdor.
He looked at the barely bruised apple in his hand and tucked it into his pocket. Suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore.
"Come on, let's go back to the castle and scrounge up an afternoon snack. I didn't realise it was this late." His mother said, walking them back the way they'd come. Merlin followed silently, not bothering to play his skipping game with avoiding the cracks.
His vision was suddenly overwhelmed with green and Merlin blinked at the fabric, slowly looking up the swathe of silky cloth to find the lady from yesterday and this morning looking at him in amusement.
"Well, hello again, Merlin." She greeted.
"Lady Morgana." Merlin remembered. She had looked like she was sucking a lemon when she attended the feast. A lot of men and woman had stared at her. She hadn't looked much happier at breakfast with him, the prince and the king.
He couldn't blame her. The silences were awful.
But it was better than shouting.
"Please, dispense of the titles, we're practically related." Morgana said with a smile. "So are you enjoying the market?" She asked, bending down slightly.
"Yes?" Merlin answered uncertainly. Was he supposed to like the stalls?
"My favourite one is the silk stand, the colours are mesmerising. What's your favourite so far?"
"..."
"Let me guess, the toy stand or is it the one with all the little cakes?" Morgana teased.
"...I like the books." He offered tentatively. She blinked as though surprised, thrown by his comment.
"You like reading?" She asked archly. Merlin leaned against his mother's hip and nodded. "Ah, forgive me the surprise, your father doesn't like to even look at a book let alone read one."
Merlin said nothing. He wasn't his fath-he wasn't a prince.
"So, what sort of books do you like?" Morgana asked curiously.
He shrugged.
"Stories? History? Romances?"
He pulled a face at that one, lovey dovey books were boring. Will gagged theatrically whenever he felt a conversation got too sickening and he mocked romantic books with a sort of gleeful sadism.
Merlin didn't want Will to think he was a sissy or anything! Plus not much ever really happened in the romance books Susan in Ealdor liked.
Morgana laughed, a couple of heads turned their way.
"Okay, not romance books," Merlin relaxed slightly, "your father pulls that same face at the merest mention of emotions." Morgana added. Merlin tensed, leaning further into his mother. She ran a soothing hand through his hair.
"Oh, Merlin, why don't you introduce us?" Hunith murmured softly, brushing back the hair from his face.
"Mother this is Morgana, Morgana, mother." Merlin mumbled.
"Hunith, my lady." His mother greeted with a curtsy.
"A pleasure." Morgana said. "Well, I should be off, the silk cart is calling." Morgana gave a half smile half smirk as she inclined her head then moved off towards the market.
His mother led them up the path, continuing their way back to his new rooms.
(His rooms were huge! Bigger than the whole house in Ealdor and far finer. Honestly it was great...but a little intimidating. He really didn't want to break something and he felt like he was guest even though he'd been told – by Gaius and his mother – that the rooms were his. He imagined Will would scoff at his new rooms and call him a fancy boy.)
"How are we 'practically related'?" Merlin asked as they entered the cool stone of the castle.
"What?" His mother frowned.
"What Morgana said." Merlin explained.
"Oh, well I presume she was talking about the fact she's the Kings ward, almost his adopted daughter considering her role at court." Hunith replied after a quiet moment of thought.
"Oh. Why is she the King's ward?"
"Because...because her parents aren't around anymore."
"You mean dead." Merlin stated bluntly. His mother looked at him with a chiding expression. He shrugged; he wasn't going to feel guilty for stating the truth. He'd long gotten over that trick.
Hunith sighed but nodded.
#
Merlin shifted from one foot to the other as he weighed the helm in his hands.
Was he supposed to...?
One of the bustling women who had taken over his new chambers temporarily adjusted the leather straps on his arm. The chain mail links were cool to the touch and Merlin wondered idly how many individual loops made up the shirt.
Much less than an adults one, he hazarded a guess, considering he was less than half the size of someone like Arthur.
Apparently the chain mail that was poured over his head was one of Arthur's from when he was a child.
Merlin wasn't quite sure what to think about that.
He sighed.
"Is it done yet?" He asked. (From his mother's face she thought he was whining again. He wasn't.)
He lowered his arm ignoring the glare from the woman fiddling with the arm guard again.
"Nearly, young master, try for a little more patience." The yellow haired woman tutted.
He had been patient! He had stood here while they fussed and dressed him in weird things (and he could dress himself thank you very much! He wasn't a baby) and he didn't even know why he was being dressed like this. The women had simply invaded his room!
Maybe if he had had prior warning he could have barricaded himself in and laughed while they attempted to siege his well supplied room. After all, he had an apple. That was enough supplies until dinner. Maybe even breakfast.
And water.
And his door bolted. Awesome.
"Why is this necessary? I can dress myself." Merlin complained resisting the urge to scowl.
The yellow haired woman blinked at him, as if he was the stupid one.
"How else are you supposed to train if not properly equipped with protective armour?"
"Train?" Merlin parroted with a frown and a sinking feeling. Much as he had enjoyed running around Ealdor pretending to be a sword fighter of renown along with Will playing the scurvy knave he wasn't all that enamoured with actually learning how to use a real sword.
They were sharp. Pointy. And the flat bits hurt worse than a smack when they struck skin.
Maybe she meant some other type of training?
Like horse riding? He liked horses, they were funny when they ate apples from your hand.
The yellow haired woman dashed the small sliver of hope like a bug under foot.
"Sword training, of course! And probably other things like mace, crossbow and lance training and hunting...all sorts of things boys like you love to do." She spoke like he was as dim witted as Phil. The donkey in Ealdor that barked at the chickens.
He decided he didn't like her.
"But I don't want to train." He objected.
"Nonsense. Of course you do, how else will you be good at it?"
Merlin scowled. He didn't want to be good at sword fighting. He didn't want to be a knight.
And he certainly didn't want to stand here amidst all this unnecessary fussing whilst waiting for his doom to strike.
Perhaps they would give him a kind tutor? With lots of patience? Who perhaps understood that Merlin much preferred to learn about the world around him than which end to poke people with a stick of metal?