Sorry it took me so long to update! I'll try to do it sooner. But I wrote a longer chapter! :)

I don't now, nor will I ever, own Merlin :( ...It all goes to BBC.

Hunith remembered Balinor fondly. His ever-wary, blue-grey eyes. His wavy, messy dark hair. The comfort and support he provided, even though he was the one in danger.

Hunith felt a pang of sorrow in her chest as she remembered the day he was driven out of the village. Driven out by hate, the hate of magic. A hate that resided in one who had the power to try to rid of it. A hate that resided in the ruthless Uther Pendragon.

Hunith closed her eyes as she could still feel the warmth of the fire as she had sat in her rickety chair, despairing over the loss of her lover, while clutching her slightly bulging stomach.

Who could know that a lonely peasant-woman could hold such great power? Not Hunith. Sure, she had known Merlin was special. His ability to empathize and cooperate with others. His sharp mind and wit (though this could never be truly honed, his emotions got in the way too much… maybe one day he would be able to harness that internal wisdom). Like every mother thinks, her little boy is special and different from all the rest. But Hunith never imagined her boy would be that kind of different.

She recalled the mixture of feelings when she first discovered her little boy's powers.

"Hey big ears!" a gangly tween called out as Merlin was walking to his cottage near the center of the village.

Merlin kept walking to the older boy. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me," he mumbled to himself.

"Oy! Listen when I talk to you dummy! Aren't those ears big enough to hear me?" The acne speckled boy voice cracked as he shrieked his last jeer.

Merlin held his sides laughing, and whined internally as he saw the wooden sticks sprawled across the ground.

Infuriated, the older boy chucked the apple he had stolen from Merlin's friend, Will. With a smug smirk, he watched it fly toward Merlin.

However, the smirk would not last.

Hunith was walking out of the cottage to meet her little boy when she saw the apple bulleting straight for Merlin's face. She cried out and covered her eyes, afraid of the outcome. One loud thump and scream of pain later, Hunith opened her eyes to see her son gathering the fallen firewood with a small smile.

There was no sign of injury. Had the boy missed? Surely not, there had been a hurting cry. She swiveled her eyes around, looking for the poor bystander that had been hit. But there was no one near or around Merlin. Hunith's eyes passed over the bully, only to quickly return. They boy was lying on the beaten, dirt path, crying quietly and cursing loudly as he clung onto his injured head.

"Did anyone see what he did? He did magic!" the boy screamed. "His eyes went golden like the devil's fire!"

A distraught woman, in clothes much too big for her tiny stature carefully approached the powerful warlock. "Didja hurt ma boy Tommy?" she inquired in a rough, scolding voice.

Red crept up Merlin's bare neck and continued to his ears as he looked down at his boots and gave a small nod.

"Didja use magic?" the woman asked in a softer tone, sensing the young boy's shame.

Merlin looked up at her with the sweetest, puppy-dog face. He then shook his head vigorously. "He threw it at me after calling me names and making me drop my sticks but he missed so I picked it up and threw it back," the shy boy quickly replied.

Satisfied that Merlin was innocent, the woman picked up her son by the ears. "When we get home, you're not leaving for anything but work. When you leave I'll make sure you don't talk to any of your bad-mouthed, liar friends. Just wait until your father hears about this…" The woman's scolding voice, punctuated by Tommy's accusations of Merlin's use of magic, faded as they walked away.

However, Hunith was not satisfied by Merlin's reply. She saw that impish smile. She knew Merlin. Merlin absolutely did not have the coordination or strength to hit Tommy.

Her son was a warlock.

Fury surged through Hunith. How could Merlin hide this from her? Then sympathy arose. Maybe he was just scared; there had been many tales of the Great Purge that elderly men told the village children. Then worry seized her. Somehow, Hunith knew that her son was no ordinary sorcerer. He just had this aura of power, cleverly hidden through his timidity and clumsiness. Praise be to whatever divine power was watching him.

After that fateful event, Hunith taught him to carefully hide his powers. She – with a tinge of sorrow as she remembered the boy's father – told him the cruel tales of the elderly men were true. Merlin successfully kept his powers a secret from those he did not feel could handle the burden of this secret.

Years passed. Merlin grew taller and lankier. He soon possessed the unfortunate fondness of wearing neckerchiefs. And as Merlin grew, so did his magical power. Hunith always knew that her son was destined for something greater than Ealdor village life. With the addition of magical powers, her mind was set. She sent him to Camelot, where he would learn a practical trade and hopefully stay safe.

How wrong she was.

Merlin would not tell his fair-hearted (so he thought) mother of the danger he had experienced since day one in Camelot. He did not write to her of the various witches and warlocks set on destroying Uther and Arthur Pendragon. He never did mention the various sharp-toothed, bloodthirsty monsters. He of course never told her of the life-threatening situations he had caused. Hunith wouldn't know much of her son's exciting life.

Until the day a strange couple knocked on her door.