'This should be brilliant!' Gwaine always had been the idiot of the group, the one that could see the benefit in almost anything. Like a sorcerer threatening to expose some of their biggest secrets on a Quest they really could have done without, if you were asking for Merlin's opinion. Honestly, Arthur and the five Knights attracted more trouble than they were worth. He was beginning to wonder if Destiny could be completed by tying Arthur and the others down, keeping them in place while he did the legwork.
Anyway, the sorcerer. They'd been travelling North of Camelot, in search of a sorcerer that had been sighted close to some of the border villages. Morgana had asked that they bring them back alive, because although they were terrifying the locals, they hadn't done anything that earned them a death sentence. The King had grumbled, but agreed to his sister's terms, hence why they'd been riding for days on end just to stumble into the person.
He was definitely not the good kind of sorcerer. Merlin, once he had escaped this very dangerous situation that he didn't need to be in, would probably have a friendly word. Or it would start like that, and as usual, the man would demand Arthur's death. Even though the King had reversed the ban on Magic, he still had quite a few enemies. Merlin should know, he was usually the one that got personal with them.
The sorcerer was trying to cause chaos, because that was how best to escape. The curse was simple, it would de-age them down to the year in which they lost their "purity". While the Knights were all laughing at each other, the sorcerer was going to escape so they didn't bring him back to Camelot. It made sense, and Merlin wouldn't have had an issue with that, apart from the fact his Magic didn't respond in time to stop the curse from hitting him.
He shrieked, managed to roll back into one of the hedges as each one of them began to shift, and he prayed he wasn't noticed.
Arthur grumbled, dusted down his now too-big clothes, grateful he was only wearing his light armour. He stripped off the chainmail that was weighing him down, looking for the sorcerer.
Gone. And Merlin, the idiot, hadn't stopped the curse from hitting them. What was the point in having a slightly magical manservant if he couldn't prevent Arthur from being hit by curses? Now he was stuck with his sixteen year-old self, one that he remembered far too well, looking out at the others.
'Hah! Look at you!' A teen squealed, pointing at Arthur while laughing. A boy, probably similar to his own age, unmistakeably Gwaine. The hair was the same, the annoying smirk that he wished he could wipe from his face.
'You're not much better, pipsqueak.' He wasn't sure where the nickname came from, just that Gwaine looked down at himself and startled.
'Oh brilliant.' The two of them turned to a gangly man, far exceeding their height but not as filled out as his usual self.
'Percy!' Gwaine cheered, clapped his now-tiny hand onto his friend's arm. Arthur watched as Leon rose out of his chainmail, his hair full of blond/red curls, boyishly chubby cheeks but definitely more defined muscle than the three of them.
'Leon, you prude! You look like you're in your early twenties!' Leon blushed darkly, just confirming what Gwaine had said. Arthur gave his friend a reassuring smile, they had grown up together, and Arthur knew the girl that Leon had first bedded. A maid-servant of one of the visiting nobles, back when Arthur had just started ordering the Knights.
'I hate this.' If Gwaine had found Leon's state funny, he found Lancelot's hilarious. He was clearly only a couple of years younger than his actual self, no facial hair but the baby-fat had completely gone, leaving a man behind.
'You look like you!' The laughter was becoming annoying, so Arthur brought his foot down on Gwaine's boot. The Knight yelped, jumped up and tripped over his own chainmail, Percival steadying him before he could fall. Shame.
'At least my clothing still fits me.' Lancelot remarked smugly, adjusting his clothing only the tiniest amount. Arthur had already gripped his trousers and tightening his belt, and then there was the issue of all their armour.
'What do we do with the chainmail?' Elyan scrambled out of his armour, looking similar in age to Percival. It was clear that him and Gwaine were the youngest, with Lancelot being the oldest.
'Carry it? We can try and find the horses, load them up with it.' Leon suggested to him, while the King looked around the clearing.
'Not that I'm complaining, but isn't it too quiet?' The others stared at him in confusion, and honestly Arthur was struggling not to laugh at the fact that Gwaine had spots, before it clicked.
'Merlin.' Stated in unison by all of them, before they looked around for the missing manservant. Arthur had seen his confused stare when they met the sorcerer, Merlin's puzzled look that was followed by a shriek.
'Merlin you idiot, where are you?'
'Maybe he was worried we'd judge him?' Lancelot asked, looking around the clearing with his sword still sheathed at his side. Arthur didn't want to think about the fact that he might not be able to wield Excalibur as well as he should.
'For what? Being the age he normally is?' Arthur joked, but he was beginning to worry.
'Merls?' Gwaine had given up on his usual playfulness, opting for concern over the missing manservant. It made sense, Gwaine was very protective over Merlin at the best of times, let alone when something went wrong.
They all startled when someone cleared their throat, turning to find the person that was unmistakably Merlin. Bright blue eyes, the same messy dark hair, and the neckerchief hanging around his neck.
But the issue was apparent, all of them falling very silent.
Merlin was a child. *
He'd watched them all laugh and joke, while trying to sort the shirt he was using as a dress. He knew he'd have to come out eventually, waited until they noticed he was missing. Stepping out actually took a lot more time than he thought, his little legs had to hurry across to the clearing, before he coughed to get their attention.
He refused to meet their gazes, kept his eyes firmly focused on the floor. Very fascinating, the grass was growing in patchy splotches, ones that Merlin stared at while waiting for someone to speak.
'Merlin...' Arthur, who sounded horrified.
'We should find the sorcerer.' Merlin suggested, not really wanting to be stuck as a child for any longer than necessary.
'I... right. Yes. The sorcerer.' He risked staring up, found Arthur's eyes wide. Shocked, unsure of how to proceed, and Merlin swallowed down his pride in favour of trying to explain. There wasn't anything to say, not to them, he didn't even know how he'd try to sort this out.
'Are we not going to point out the obvious?' Gwaine's voice was close to a snarl, murderous eyes as he stared at Merlin.
'Enough. We can... we'll sort this after. We need to get Merlin back to Camelot, and then find the sorcerer.' That was not what he wanted, and he went to argue, but the King held a hand up.
'Don't argue. You can't defend yourself like that.' Only once he'd said the words did Arthur realise his mistake, horror crossing his expression. Merlin winced, stared down at his chubby fingers and tried not to let his emotions take over.
'Alright.' He finally conceded. *
Camp for the night was made by the Knights, Merlin knowing there was no point trying to argue. He sat by the fire, played with the hem of his shirt while watching the group try and prepare some dinner.
'Hey.' Lancelot sat down by his side, and Merlin peered up to the adult. His friend didn't look horrified like the others, didn't avoid him like he had the plague.
'Hi.' He weakly offered. A hand came to lightly rest on his shoulder, and Merlin felt his bottom lip stick out in an effort not to cry. Honestly, he hadn't expected it to be this difficult to be back in this body. The others may have a different rush of all those hormones that affected teens, but Merlin was stuck with an emotional range that would make Uther Pendragon roll in his grave.
'Want to talk about it?' The Knight asked, staring at the fire.
'Not really?' Merlin offered. He knew it wouldn't satisfy the group, they'd want answers eventually. He just wasn't willing to give them.
'I'm sorry you went through that. And that you were forced to reveal it like this.' Merlin was going to cry. He could feel it, tears welling up and a pressure in his chest, Lancelot's arm moving around his skinny shoulders.
'C'mere.' He didn't have to be asked twice, buried into Lancelot's cape and let a sob break free. A hand was in his hair, gentle and soothing like his Mum used to do.
'Whenever you're ready, Merlin.' It sounded like a promise, and Merlin was thankful that Lancelot was such a good friend to him.