The travel to Ealdor was a long one, a day and a half by horse and all the while Arthur wondered why he was doing this, why he had suggested this. Was he really that desperate to do what the King wished? Would he be putting his lips on Merlin next, if that's what the King wished for? No, Arthur wanted to think, no, he did it because he thought Merlin should see his Mother. He was trying to be kind...which was also exactly what his Father had wanted.

All these thoughts were lost when they entered the village, Merlin seemed excited, though quiet. Until he stopped his horse jumped off and ran toward a woman with dark hair, much shorter than he. He hugged her so tightly, it might have been painful, but the cries Arthur heard, even from far away as he was, he knew it was not. He manged to tie up the horses and give them water on his own, while Merlin mingled with the village people. Arthur stayed back, near the horses, giving Merlin this time to himself. Arthur really didn't know what to do with himself, was he to walk around, was he to wait there, should he go over and introduce himself? He had no idea, so instead he took to just petting his horses mane. It wasn't long before Merlin was dragging the same woman, who he had been hugging, toward him, smiling so big and purely that it might blind someone.

"Arthur, this is my Mother, Hunith," Merlin said, and Arthur bowed his head in the direction of the woman, who smiled a beaming smile herself. "Mum, this is Arthur, he's-"

"I know who he is," she told him, in a motherly sort of way, Arthur wouldn't really know anything about that, but it shut Merlin up, almost at once. So needless to say, Arthur liked her already. "I often wondered, if you would ever bring me home a wife, Merlin...I never dreamed one day you would bring me home a Prince."

"Well, you know how I am," said Merlin, with a sort laugh and a smile that said that he was a bit nervous all of a sudden. She laughed, a generous one, and shook her head.

"I certainly do," she said, and then turned to Arthur, with such a kind smile it was almost painful to look at. Arthur almost felt jealous, that Merlin got to look upon such a face, a face that loved him so much, every day. She bowed to Arthur. "It is a great honer to meet you, Prince Arthur."

"Please, just Arthur," he said, kindly, because he saw no reason not to be. It was clear Merlin wasn't very much like his Mother. She had manners, at the very least. "You are Merlin's mother, there is no need for formalities."

She beamed at him once again. "Come...you lot must be hungry after your journey, I will cook for you."

Arthur followed Hunith and Merlin across the village, which had no more than ten to fifteen house, Hunith's, and Arthur supposed Merlin's old, home was at the very end of it. It certainty wasn't much either. Arthur noticed it was only two rooms; One with a small fireplace, and a kitchen and a table, the other had a bed in it, that was all. He knew he grew up well, in a castle, but for some reason this wasn't at all what Arthur thought of when thinking of the place Merlin had grown up.

Arthur's thoughts must have played on his face, because Merlin was eyeing him the whole time, as Hunith stirred something in a pot, on the fire. Arthur forced himself stern, looking forward and focused heavily on the fire that burned just beyond Hunith's frame. Merlin shifted next to him. Hunith turned back toward them, happily smiling still, with a wooden spoon in hand.

"What brings you two to Ealdor?" she asked, and Arthur was glad for the distraction of conversation. "Passing through, or can you stay?"

"Arthur brought me here to see you," said Merlin, and Arthur refused to look over at him at all. He also didn't want to look at Merlin's Mother either, who let out a long Oh, and stare between them. "We can stay for a few days."

"Well, isn't that wonderful!" said Hunith, now turning back toward the fire and stirring whatever it was, that she was cooking. "That is very kind of you, Arthur."

"It was nothing, really," said Arthur, off handed and then looked down at the light wood of the table. There was an ant crawling across it. But then, suddenly, Hunith was coming out of nowhere, with a bowl of brown stuff and placed it in front of Arthur, with a grin. "It looks delicious," he said and, quite honestly, lied. Merlin started eating imminently, as if his very life depended on it, and Arthur felt his stomach turn, just by the smell. He took a spoonful to his lips, as she still watched him eagerly, and he had to nearly force himself to put it into his mouth. The taste was worse than your socks after a long day of trekking through the woods, and he would know this, because one time Morgana shoved said sock into his mouth after a fight. He made a noise, a mm, though he tried not to gag. "Very good..."

Hunith looked as if her whole life had been made, just by him saying that. "It is Merlin's favorite, I'm glad you like it!" she said, and the kindness in her voice made him feel awful, but not bad enough to take another bite. "Oh...I better go milk the cow for dinner tonight!" she took a bucket off the ground suddenly, blew a kiss to Merlin, and then fled from the house. As soon as she was gone, Arthur took the contents of his bowl, and dumped it into Merlin's.

"What are you doing?" demanded Merlin, as he glare over to Arthur.

"Your Mother is a nice woman, Merlin, but she cooks about as well as you do," he retorted, and Merlin's glare turned into a frown. And Arthur couldn't help it, while they were alone, the words just slipped out. "And you really grew up here, in this tiny shack?"

"Arthur," Merlin said, and he almost sounded tired. And perhaps he was, they did have a long journey, but Arthur had a suspicion that was not the reason Merlin was tired. "We were poor...this shack was all we could afford."

"I understand, of course...I just never realized how poor," said Arthur, because he did feel quite guilty. "I'm sure your childhood was very nice."

"It was," retorted Merlin, but the edge in his voice told Arthur he ought to shut up now. Which, he had to admit, was a bit odd, a strange switch in their relationship, because more often than not, it was Arthur who lost his patience with Merlin, not the other way around.

Hunith must have told other villagers of Merlin's visit, because while they were waiting for Hunith to return from milking the cow, some boy named Will arrived and soon Merlin left with him. Leaving Arthur alone, in the house, by himself. He deiced that since they would be staying there, he ought to get more comfortable. The other room, which had a bed, was quite small, and he wasn't very sure where Merlin used to sleep, or where they would sleep now. However, Arthur really couldn't stop himself, he looked around the room, at the small trinkets, the wooden sculptures, even a chestnut wood one, that was in the shape of a dragon. He wondered if these things belonged to Hunith or once to Merlin, and Merlin had only left them behind, as he would have no need for them in Camelot.

"Did Merlin leave?" came a voice behind him, and he nearly dropped the wooden dragon onto the floor, as he forced it back into it's spot and turned to the voice. Hunith stood there, at the door frame and smiled at him.

"One of his...friends came, he left with him," said Arthur, feeling very much like a small child that was about to get into trouble. Hunith frowned, which made this worse, and Arthur took several steps away from the shelf, and toward her, going to obviously, now that he had been caught snooping, leave the room.

"Will?" she questioned, and Arthur nodded. Not that he much cared about this person, obviously Merlin used to have friends here, he seemed rather popular in Camelot, too. People just liked him for some reason, Arthur really had no idea why. "Of course, well...at least I have you to keep me company."

"Yes," said Arthur, as once, even though he did have every intention of leaving the house until she had said this. The two had never met before, why would he think she would wish for him to stay? Because he was a Prince? He sighed, probably. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Not as such," she told him, and her blue eyes, which honestly rivaled Merlin's in the shade of blue they were, looked up at him with a mixture of amusement and coyness. And it shocked Arthur for a second, because he might as well be looking at Merlin. He did this exact same look, when he was about to say something entirely stupid. "You could help me make dinner..."

So, that was how Arthur Pendragon, the crowned Prince of Camelot, ended up with a knife and a sack of raw onions. Merlin came back after awhile, and his eyes widened when he saw Arthur sitting there, onion in hand.

"What's happening...?"

"I'm mincing," explained Arthur, though, truthfully, he had no idea what that meant.

"He's the best mincer I have ever seen," said Hunith, and Arthur knew she was lying, yet the commitment still felt rather nice. Merlin shook his head, and walked further into the house.

"It's because he stabs people for fun..."

"Merlin," said Hunith warning. "That is not very nice to say..."

"It's true," retorted Merlin. "I know...because he's tried to stab me."

"I'm not sure that's quite true," said Arthur, after all they were talking about him, so he felt it only fair to butt in. Hunith rolled her eyes at her son, and Arthur liked her very much.

"You didn't invite Will for dinner?" she asked then, and Merlin shook his head, with a frown.

"You know how Will gets."

"I do," said Hunith, and Arthur tried not to pay attention anymore, as this was no longer about him, but he couldn't help it anyway. "And we still need to talk about it..."

"Not now, Mum..." said Merlin. And Arthur wondered, how did Will get exactly? What was it about him that Hunith didn't seem to like very much? Arthur wondered, but did not ask, as that was not his place to do so. Before long, Hunith excused Arthur of his onion chopping duties and mixed something together in a pot again. It was some sort of onion dish, that granted...didn't taste as bad as the brown stuff from before, but Arthur only forced himself to eat it, out of pure starvation and kindness, as he would never want to offend Hunith.

And before long, it was time for bed, which there was only one, so things didn't look well for Arthur's spine. Now, of course, Hunith offend her bed to Arthur, but he refused. He might be a Prince, and though Merlin liked to think him rude, he was not going to let a woman sleep on the floor for his comfort. So, Merlin set up a very large amount of blankets on the floor for them, in the main room, and the two would sleep there. Merlin's Mother bid them a goodnight, still looking a bit put upon that she was allowing a Prince to sleep on her floor, but no matter how many times she insisted, Arthur refused her.

Time had passed slowly, as Arthur lay on the floor, and he supposed it could be worse, at least it was warm, as the fire still burned lowly. But no matter how he tried, sleep would not come to him. He noticed Merlin was still awake, too. As he was right next to him, it would be impossible not to notice, because he didn't even bother to shut his eyes.

"Did you always sleep on the floor or did you have a bed before...?" he asked the question, as quiet as he could, so Hunith couldn't hear him. It took several seconds before Merlin answered, he blinked a few times, clearly his mind on something else, and he sighed.

"No, we couldn't afford another bed," he answered, and he let it be short, and Arthur wondered if all these questions offended him. He hadn't meant for that to be the case, he was just wondering. Merlin seemed to be somewhere else though, ever since Will had shown up, and although Arthur really wanted to, he wouldn't pry, maybe the two had argued before Merlin left, perhaps something else entirely took place. It wasn't Arthur's right to know, even if he did want to know more about Merlin's life before Camelot. "I know it doesn't seem like much," Merlin continued, suddenly, and Arthur's eyes went back to him almost at once. "We were poor, but we had each other and...we were happy."

Merlin was happy before he came to Camelot, at least that was some information Arthur could get, yet that didn't make sense, why...if Merlin was happy, did he leave here then? Why not stay with his Mother? Hunith was a wonderful woman, why on Earth did Merlin leave her, and for what...? A empty castle and a fruitless job for a Prince he barely liked? It didn't seem like a very wise choice.

"It must have been hard..."

"Like rock..."

"Not the ground...you idiot!" retorted Arthur and aimed a kick for one of Merlin's legs. "Leaving here, your Mother..."

"Yes, it was," said Merlin, not reacting to the kick very much, only moving a little bit further away from Arthur. "But I wanted something different for my life, to find myself, and I couldn't do that here..."

"And did you?" questioned Arthur, sleepily, all of a sudden. "Did you find yourself...?"

"I think so..."

(A/N: I know this is the third day in a row I have updated, and one might think; GIRL, GIVE IT A REST ALREADY! But I have it, I actually am several chapters ahead at this point, so I mean...like why the hell not?! ;p)