[Set some time in Season 4/5ish. The important point is that Arthur doesn't just die at Camlann without he and Merlin ever having a chance to know each other, because no.]
The morning chill nipped at Eira's cheeks as she hurried through the bustling Camelot market with Simon on her hip. Isaac trailed behind, their meager supplies piled high in a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. Gone were the leisurely strolls with old friends and excited chatter of yesterday. They needed to get out of Camelot, and fast.
Last night, after tucking little Simon into bed, she had snuffed out the candle only to find it relit immediately. She tried again, bewildered. Only the third time, when she heard a happy squeal and turned to see Simon's eyes fade from gold to blue, did she realize what was happening. It had been a horrifying sight, and Eira had immediately fetched Isaac.
They couldn't stay. They knew the whispers that followed those who were suspected of magic. The fear, the executions... the thought of it made Eira clench her fists, her stomach churning. There had been fewer executions under King Arthur than the Mad King, but she wouldn't stake their lives on it.
"Isaac, are you sure this is enough?" Eira panted, her voice catching in her throat with each hurried breath.
Isaac glanced at the bulging bag – dried fruits, nuts, and cheese to last them a fortnight. "It will have to be. We can't stay any longer."
Suddenly, a whimper escaped Simon's lips. His bear, a well-loved brown thing with floppy ears, tumbled from his grasp. He reached out, chubby fingers straining, but the bear was well out of reach. Eira, distracted by discussing provisions with Isaac, didn't notice.
Mordred and Gwaine spotted the predicament as they patrolled the market. Mordred smiled kindly, bent down, and reached for the bear. But as his hand neared the toy, the bear lifted itself with an unseen force, hovering for a moment before gently landing in Simon's outstretched arms. Gwaine, having been looking at Simon's face while Mordred retrieved the bear, saw the telltale flash of gold eyes.
Mordred and Gwaine both took a sharp breath and Mordred stood quickly. They each turned and saw the resolve in the other's eyes – neither would be turning in this family.
Eira feared from the initially shocked faces of the Knights that the worst had happened. Eira stammered, desperate to explain without implicating Simon, but she didn't even know what had happened. Her frantic kick at Isaac's ankle went unnoticed as he too realized the situation.
Gwaine donned a charming smile and ruffled Simon's hair, eliciting a giggle. "Enjoy your trip, little one!" He winked at the bewildered couple.
Mordred and Gwaine started to walk away, their steps light but their movements lacking their usual carefree swagger. They hadn't gotten far before a booming voice sliced through the bustling market.
"But Sir Gwaine, the child has magic!" Sir Edric bellowed, his voice heavy with accusation.
The crowd gasped, a ripple of fear and suspicion spreading through the square. Eira felt faint. Their life was crumbling around them.
Gwaine closed his eyes with a sigh, of course it wasn't going to be that easy. He and Mordred turned as one, Gwaine plastering on his usual lighthearted expression. "Come, Sir Edric," he drawled, his voice dripping with mock incredulity, "you can't possibly be suggesting this little tyke has magic! He's barely out of diapers."
Sir Edric's face turned a dangerous shade of red. He bristled at Gwaine's dismissal, puffed up with indignation. "This is what happens when you allow common-born men to join the ranks! No sense of duty or honor," he spat, his voice laced with venom.
Mordred bristled at the blatant disrespect, his jaw clenching tight. However, he maintained his composure. "With all due respect, Sir Edric," Mordred finally spoke, his voice even but firm, "we haven't seen anything to suggest the child has magic. Perhaps what you saw was simply a trick of the light."
Edric scoffed, unconvinced. "I know what I saw! Either you take them to the King or I do. And either way," he said, his voice dripping with malice, "I'm going to tell him what I saw you do – both of you."
Gwaine's shoulders slumped in defeat. Edric had them cornered. With a sigh that spoke volumes, he turned back to the family, his face etched with sympathy.
"Sir, madam," he addressed Eira and Isaac, his voice devoid of its usual cheer, "if you would please follow me and Sir Mordred to the throne room."
Eira's eyes darted to Isaac, her expression a mask of terror. Isaac, his face pale, nodded grimly. He vowed silently, fiercely, that he would find a way out of this, no matter the cost. This mess was entirely his fault – he was sure Simon's magic must be a twisted consequence of his own lineage.
Gwaine, with a gentleness that surprised even himself, reached out and placed a hand on Eira's arm. Mordred followed suit, his grip on Isaac's arm surprisingly light. Isaac flinched instinctively, but the look of weary resignation in Mordred's eyes halted any resistance.
Sir Edric trailed behind them, a hawk with a watchful eye. The journey to the throne room was fraught with tension. The townspeople, their faces etched with a mix of fear and curiosity, parted like waves as they passed. Whispers followed them, their words laced with suspicion. Some sneered, but many more sent sympathetic glances towards the family, the tiny child with a smile that seemed to mock their predicament.
As they passed through a particularly dense group, Mordred managed to create a small gap between their party and Edric. Leaning close to Issac, he murmured, "We will find a way to get you out of here if we have to, but have faith in Arthur – he is a just king and wouldn't condemn a child."
Isaac, overwhelmed by the situation, could only nod mutely. This unexpected kindness from a knight, a man sworn to uphold the law, offered a sliver of hope he hadn't dared to imagine. Was it just because Simon was a child, or would they show the same compassion if he was the one accused? Either way, he clung to that sliver of hope, a lifeline in a sea of fear.
Their small party finally arrived at the imposing oak doors of the throne room. Mordred and Gwaine exchanged another silent glance, a shared determination burning in their eyes. Whatever awaited them inside, they were going to protect this family. A guard opened the doors with a flourish. Taking a deep breath, they stepped inside, the heavy doors swinging shut behind them.
The heavy oak doors of the throne room creaked as they shut, silencing the murmurings of the court that had lingered from the concluded council. Arthur, brow furrowed in thought, surveyed the newcomers. Merlin noted the flicker of surprise in the King's eyes as they settled on the young family standing nervously between Mordred and Gwaine.
Arthur cleared his throat. "Sir Gwaine," he began, "would you be…"
Before the King could finish, a voice erupted from the side. Sir Edric, puffing himself up like a rooster before a fight, stepped forward and launched into a tirade.
"Mordred and Gwaine deliberately ignored blatant use of magic in the marketplace!" he boomed, his voice dripping with outrage. He refused to use their titles, they didn't deserve them.
A collective gasp rippled through the room. Arthur's brow furrowed, his gaze darting between Mordred and Gwaine, who stood tall but silent. Their silence spoke volumes – they weren't denying it, but they weren't confirming it either. Arthur knew Edric's long-standing dislike for them and remained cautious.
"And I assume," Arthur began calmly, "you believe one of these people" – he gestured towards Isaac and Eira – "is responsible for the alleged magic?"
Edric sputtered, indignation boiling over. "Alleged? I saw it with my own eyes! This child," he snarled, pointing a finger at Simon, who whimpered and burrowed deeper into Isaac's chest, "has magic!"
A collective gasp, this time more pronounced, echoed through the room again. Merlin, for one, felt a jolt of fear mixed with a surge of protectiveness.
Arthur was shocked. A child so young, harboring magic? It would explain Gwaine and Mordred's behavior, though. He met their eyes – defiance flickered in Gwaine's, while Mordred's held a deep resolve. It confirmed his suspicions – there was some truth to Edric's words.
"And what crime did he commit with it, Sir Edric?" Guinevere inquired coldly, her voice cutting through the tension. Arthur was impressed by her quick recovery. He himself was still grappling with the revelation.
Edric, caught off guard by her question, blustered, "He doesn't have to commit a crime, the magic is the crime!"
Arthur's anger flared. "Sir Edric," he said with a steely edge, "may I remind you that you are addressing your Queen. You will choose your words carefully."
Edric, sensing his own misstep, shrank back slightly. "I only mean, your Majesty, that the Queen's feelings in this matter may be affected by her… condition."
Arthur's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Had Edric just implied the Queen was incapable of sound judgment due to her pregnancy? The audacity! Before Arthur could unleash his fury, Guinevere herself spoke.
"I assure you, Edric," she said, her voice colder than Arthur had ever heard it, "that I am fully capable of sound judgment despite being with child. I'm pregnant, not senile."
Edric seemed to shrink under her gaze. He mumbled an apology, clearly regretting his outburst. Arthur squeezed Guinevere's hand, a silent gesture of support.
"Now answer the question, Sir Edric," Arthur continued, his voice low and dangerous. "What did the child actually do?"
Edric hesitated, then blurted out, "He dropped his bear in the market. When Mordred bent down to retrieve it, it flew into the boy's hands. I saw his eyes flash gold. And so did Gwaine!"
His voice wavered as he spoke, a hint of doubt creeping in. Merlin stifled a snort, earning a withering glare from Arthur. The room held its breath.
Guinevere looked at Edric as if he'd lost his mind. "A young child retrieved his toy," she said slowly, enunciating each word. Arthur couldn't help but agree. Was this really why they'd been dragged before the King? Arthur glanced at Simon, who was now sucking his thumb and clutching his bear tightly.
"With magic!" Edric spluttered defensively.
Arthur stroked his chin, trying to appear calm. "Perhaps a simple explanation exists," he offered, his mind racing. "A trick of the light, Sir Edric? Surely," Arthur suggested, unknowingly mirroring Mordred's suggestion.
Gwaine chimed in, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It was quite sunny this morning, my Lord, hit right in your eyes." Arthur suppressed a smile. Gwaine was walking a tightrope, neither lying outright nor revealing the truth.
"And Sir Mordred, surely you must have thrown the bear. Perhaps Sir Edric wasn't in a good position to see clearly." Arthur looked intently at Mordred, who seemed to understand his unspoken message that Mordred was permitted to lie with impunity. Of course, Mordred would have anyway.
Mordred cleared his throat. "I did, Sire," he said, a touch of sheepishness in his voice. "Though not intentionally. I lost my footing for a moment and tossed the bear. The boy made an impressive catch." Arthur offered Mordred a small, grateful smile.
Guinevere, ever sharp, saw through the charade as well. However, she played her part, turning to Edric with a raised eyebrow. "There you have it, Sir Edric," she said with a finality that brooked no argument. "You've wasted this court's time with a misunderstanding caused by a sunny day and a good reflex."
Edric's face contorted in anger. He clearly wasn't satisfied with the outcome. In one swift, theatrical motion, he ripped off his gauntlet and threw it at Gwaine's feet.
"To the death!" he roared, his voice thick with venom.
Gwaine, unfazed, smirked. "A challenge, is it?" he said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. "I hope your terrible eyesight doesn't put you at a disadvantage. Perhaps a visit to Gaius is in order before you face such a formidable opponent." A ripple of suppressed laughter ran through the court.
Arthur, however, felt a surge of annoyance. "Enough, Edric!" he boomed, his voice echoing in the vast chamber. "You will leave now and cool down. We will discuss your behavior later."
Edric, defeated, picked up his gauntlet and mumbled a barely audible apology before slinking out of the throne room.
Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt a hand on his arm and looked over to see Guinevere, her face etched with concern.
"We need to talk about this, Arthur," she said softly. "And perhaps… privately." Arthur turned back to the family, his gaze softening.
Arthur nodded in agreement. This situation was far from over. They had a small child with magic on their hands, and the implications were staggering. He stole a glance at Merlin, who was watching the family intently and whispering to Gaius, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
"My apologies for this ordeal," Arthur said sincerely. "Sir Edric can be… overzealous at times." Arthur was unsurprised to hear a snort from both Gwaine and Merlin.
Isaac bowed and Eira curtsied, a flicker of hope in their eyes. Simon, still nestled in his father's arms, peeked out shyly with his large blue eyes.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Eira stammered.
"I believe," Arthur began, his voice low, "that a private audience would be best to discuss this matter further. Merlin, Gaius, please remain. The rest of you are dismissed." Issac's and Eira's faces paled.
The remaining councilors, knights, and guards bowed and filed out, leaving the small group behind.
Arthur continued, "I would like to have a brief conversation with my Court Physician and advisor, Gaius. My wife Guinivere and my manservant Merlin will accompany you to the nursery."
"That's very kind of you, my Lord," Eira stammered, unconsciously looking to Isaac for confirmation.
Guinivere offered a warm smile and took Eira's arm gently, as a friend might. "Let us go, and you must tell me all your names." Her friendly nature oozed a calming energy that was difficult to resist.
Arthur frowned at the intense look Merlin gave him as he uncharacteristically bowed silently and turned to follow Guinivere – part terror, part solemnity, as if the fate of the world hinged on this moment and he was afraid Arthur would make the wrong decision. He clearly wasn't going to execute the child, magic or not, so what was Merlin so afraid of? A subtle cough drew his eyes away from Merlin's retreating back and to the matter at hand. "Ah, Gaius."