'Someone has to ask.' Arthur snapped, Lancelot sighing and shaking his head gently. As much as he liked the King, would die for him, he could be an idiot sometimes.
'This isn't something we should push, Sire.' His sentence was met by Arthur's anger, which he'd expected. Lancelot felt the same, wanted nothing more than to demand a name and a location, to drive a sword straight through the chest of the man who dared to lay a hand on his friend. But that wasn't a wise idea, Merlin didn't do well when pushed. Lancelot should know that, he'd been the first to know of Merlin's Magic.
Had watched as the manservant ran around running into all sorts of trouble, with absolutely no regard for his own safety. In fact, they'd had that discussion more than once. Merlin just didn't seem able to fathom that he had people that cared for him.
'Why wouldn't he tell us?' Another thing the King didn't quite seem to recognise, that Merlin didn't usually speak of these things. He didn't want sympathy, or people being impressed by all that he did for Camelot. He certainly didn't want them knowing something so... delicate.
'It isn't something that comes up in conversation.' Leon pointed out, all six of them looking across to where Merlin was asleep by the fire. Tucked in Lancelot's cape, he looked tiny. No older than eight summers, Lancelot had concluded. Funny, in any other situation they would have been laughing over how adorable child-Merlin was, but that was the last thing on their mind at the moment.
'I'm going to find them. Have their head on a spike.' Gwaine grumbled. He looked ridiculous, threatening to kill a man when he was so skinny and spotty.
'I'll join you.' Arthur muttered under his breath, and Lancelot fought yet another sigh. If there was one thing that the two of them agreed upon, it was that anyone that dared to hurt Merlin would be killed in a very inventive way.
Merlin woke up when Lancelot gently shook his shoulder, blinked back sleep and tried to stand, only to remember that he was a lot shorter than normal. He managed to get the cape wrapped around him, looking up at the Knight and then looking around the clearing.
'Where are the others?'
'I think Arthur needed some space.' That was his fault, he realised. He'd disrupted the usual balance of things; rather than being the butt of the jokes, Merlin had turned into the one with issues. The one they needed to sidestep around because they were worried of upsetting him.
'I'm not going to get through this without telling them, am I?' Lancelot faltered, before he looked towards the trees.
'We... we would never make you tell us, Merlin...' But they wanted to know, and Merlin knew he couldn't avoid this forever.
'Stop lurking, Arthur. I can hear you from here.' The King appeared, tried his best to pretend that he hadn't been hiding in the treeline. Merlin's Magic always responded when he was close, so Arthur couldn't get away with hiding.
'You look ridiculous telling a King what to do when you're so small.' Merlin rolled his eyes, watched as the Knights snuck out from the shadows and back towards the embers of the fire. He watched them, each one of them, desperately trying not to look angry and yet curious at the same time. They wanted answers, and he didn't really have any.
'I was seven summers old.' Merlin hated this part, the bit where he had to tell at least part of the truth. Arthur's head shot up, and Merlin took a moment to admire the King. Prince, that was what he'd have been at this age, a young Knight trying to prove his loyalty to the Crown and to his Knights.
'Merlin...' Lancelot whispered, looking horrified.
'I don't want your sympathy. I want you to know, so you stop staring at me like that.' He snapped, which must have looked stupid, considering his size. He'd have found it amusing, had the situation not been so very different.
He looked back to his tiny hands, swallowed down his pride. They were his friends, even if they were above him in rank. Hopefully they'd listen, then pretend like this conversation never came up.
Unlikely, although a Warlock could hope.
'There were raids on our Village, Cenred tried raising the taxes. The Knights came to collect the resources, but we didn't even have enough for ourselves, and,' He halted, remembered Hunith being dragged out of the house, of the Knight peering down at him, 'I made the mistake of showing my Magic to one of them.'
His Mum had told him that he should never do such a thing, and he learned why in that moment. That a secret may be dangerous, but it was even worse when others knew about it.
'Sorcerers were collected by the King at that time, so it was that, or...' They could figure the rest out. He didn't need to go any further, didn't need to let his mind wander past that moment.
'So anyway, can we drop it? I don't...' He was barrelled into, arms wrapping around him tightly. Merlin blinked, but settled into Lancelot's hold, let the Knight scoop him up despite the fact it felt odd.
'Oh, Merlin.' He hated the sympathy, wanted no part of it, but he was willing to deal with it just to have the hugs. They were nice.
As soon as Lancelot let him go, it was Percival that wrapped him up. He'd always been a fan of more physical affection, was quite happy when they ruffled his hair and held him close. But the more they did, the more it began to hurt. The more the ache in his chest expanded, and the more he didn't want to keep holding back tears.
His Magic burst before he could even think of holding it back, a faint rumble overhead as he accidentally let his energy seep out. He heard the group gasp, heard a shriek as clothing began to grow tighter once more, as his Magic latched onto the powerful strain around them. It was working on the curse, he realised in surprise, reversing whatever the sorcerer had done. Merlin had just about enough sense to give himself some clothes (save an even more awkward moment after) as he began to grow.
When Merlin dared to open his eyes, it was to the Knights of Camelot back to their former glory. The right age, dressed in their armour and looking rather shocked. Merlin winced, he hadn't realised his Magic could do all of that, and then glanced down to himself.
Back in his normal clothes, and even his neckerchief was in place. He grinned, then looked up to the others.
'Guess I should get emotional more often.' He cheerfully joked, then turned back in the direction of (what he hoped was) Camelot.
He pretended not to see Lancelot's look of sympathy.