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The day Merlin was born, his eyes glowed a bright, almost honey-like gold and the flowers bloomed that winter.
That was something Hunith feared in those months he was in her womb, untouched by the cruelty of mankind. She’d hoped that maybe, just maybe, her baby would be like her. That he would not need to fear for his life because of who he was. But no, the heavens would not be so kind to her. Although he had her light blue eyes and pale skin, Merlin was his father’s son. He was magic.
Hunith sobbed that night, holding her baby close to her chest. She loved him dearly, but she felt helpless. The father of her son, Balinor, went into hiding just before she discovered that she was going to have a baby. He had no choice ‒ her uncle, Gaius, sent word from Camelot that the king, Uther Pendragon, would be coming after him. So Balinor left, planting a kiss on her forehead and promising that, one day, when he was safe, he’d return.
And now, she was alone with Merlin, a baby who had no control over who he was yet would be slaughtered by the King if he found out the truth. They may have been in a village in the neighboring kingdom, Essetir, but the purge Uther enacted on magical creatures spread beyond borders. But Hunith promised little baby Merlin, who was grasping onto her finger with his tiny hand and sleeping soundly, that she would keep him safe. No one would learn the truth about him. She prayed to whichever deities were up there, hoping they would let Merlin live a long, fulfilling life.
20 Years Later
When Hunith told Merlin that he would be living in Camelot with his great-uncle Gaius, he was thrilled. He spent his whole life in a village called Ealdor, which stood along the border of Essetir and Camelot. It was a small place, where everyone knew each other’s deepest, darkest secrets. And, while his mother tried to keep his… abilities quiet, word went around about Hunith’s strange son, who was the only one there when the large willow tree tipped over Old Man Simmon’s cottage. The village children avoided him, aside from his only friend Will, but, even then, his mother would keep an eye on them whenever they played.
It was suffocating, knowing that all those eyes were watching his every move and just waiting for something to happen. Practically willing for it, so they could go tell their king about a boy with magic that could be used as a weapon for their militia, just for some gold. So, Merlin was quick to accept going to Camelot.
Of course, he knew of the Purge. He had no memory of it because he was born at the cusp of its ending, but he saw the long-lasting effects it had in his childhood. His mother made him promise that he would never utter a word about magic or how he was born with it. It was their little secret, but, of course, the villagers had their suspicions. She made him swear that, when he was in Camelot, only his great-uncle Gaius should be the one to know about his magic because he needed to learn how to control it. No one else could ever know.
Perhaps it was naive for Merlin to hope that maybe it wouldn’t be that bad in Camelot. All he’d ever known was his village, but now he’d be in the Citadel where there were so many people from different places. He would be miniscule in the grand scheme of things. But then he arrived at the Citadel, only to witness a crowd gathered as the king, Uther Pendragon, stood at the balcony, boasting about it being the 20-year-anniversary since the Purge and how they’ve rid the kingdom of magic. Then, a magic-user was dragged out and beheaded, only for the mother of said magic-user to swear an-eye-for-an-eye so that Prince Arthur would be killed next. This all occurred within the five minutes he stepped into the kingdom.
Okay, so maybe Merlin was a little naive (although, Arthur would argue he was a complete and utter idiot ).
It was fine because he would never interact with royalty; he would just be in the physician’s chambers with Gaius, working as an apprentice and minding his own business. That didn’t really work out, though, seeing that the witch from before did actually attempt to kill Prince Arthur in cold blood, but Merlin managed to prevent the said prince from being impaled by a knife by pulling him out of the way. King Uther, who was ever-so-grateful, wanted to give a reward, which Merlin tried to refuse (although he wouldn’t have minded some gold coins). Ultimately, Uther made him become the royal manservant of Arthur Pendragon.
Great.
And then there was the whole destiny thing, which was recited by a talking dragon named Kilgharrah, who was kept shackled under the castle. Apparently, Merlin and Arthur were “two sides of the same coin,” which Merlin vehemently denied because the prince was an idiot , but then he continued to save his life in secret and slowly discovered that maybe he wasn’t so bad. He was still an egotistical meathead, but he had a good heart. He cared for his people and his kingdom and would go and sacrifice himself everyday just to prove that.
So, a year later, Merlin realized that he could get used to this. He was able to learn how to control his magic better and use it secretly (both for his own convenience and to keep Arthur’s sorry ass out of trouble), he was learning medicine from Gaius, and he made good friends with the Lady Morgana (Uther’s ward) and her servant, Gwen. And he and Arthur were friends, no matter how much the prince would deny it.
It was too bad that when Merlin finally managed to find his footing, everything just had to come crashing down. All he’d wanted to do was help a kid, who was sitting on the side of the road and crying at her broken toy. Merlin saw when she dropped it and it shattered into a dozen pieces and he couldn’t take the way tears were sliding down her chubby cheeks, so he’d went up to her and fixed it with a quiet spell. The little girl had been shocked, and Merlin was worried he scared her, but she flashed a toothy smile and thanked him with a hug.
Merlin had smiled and waved her off, getting ready to return to his errands. He then saw one of the townsfolk whispering to a guard, glancing conspiratorially at him. Next thing he knew, he was being grabbed roughly by the arms and being dragged into the castle.
And now Merlin was in the throne room, shoved onto his knees with iron restraints to suppress his magic. There was a crowd of the king’s council, the servants, and the townspeople. Everyone wanted to see the condemned be damned.
Uther stood in front of his throne with a furious expression, glaring down at him. Merlin could see the hatred in his eyes, knowing that he was the reason why there was a sorcerer in the heart of Camelot. Morgana stood beside him, worry evident on her features. Her eyes flicked back and forth between him and Uther, clenching her hands.
Then there was Arthur, who was standing on the other side of Uther. His arms were crossed over his chest, his face carefully blank as he stared down at the wooden floor. Merlin could see it, though. The pain and hurt in his crystalline eyes, the way his fingers were gripping onto the material of his jacket. Merlin couldn’t help the shame he felt, despite knowing that he didn’t do anything wrong. He wasn’t a monster, but, for a moment, he felt like he was.
“What is the meaning of this?” He flinched at the words spat from Uther’s mouth, but kept himself upright.
The guard, who’d been holding Merlin down with a hand on his shoulder, spoke up, “One of the townsfolk caught him doing magic,” he claimed, his grip tightening on his shoulder. He gestured for the said person to step up, who did so with quivering hands.
The man lowered his head as he bowed at Uther, unable to meet his eyes. “I saw him use magic to fix a little girl’s toy, my Lord. I swear. His eyes glowed,” he spluttered, taking a step back into the crowd. Merlin couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at the man, keeping his mouth shut. Coward.
Uther was never known for being the most rational , necessarily, but many people respected him for the way he kept the kingdom living in peace (ignoring all of the magic users who were actively being persecuted, of course). He held a stern head on his shoulders and, as king, he made tough decisions that were for the benefit of his people. Even now, when magic users were captured and put on trial, he would remain stoic.
But now, he looked terrifying .
Not only did Merlin use magic, but he humiliated the king. He’d been practicing magic right under his nose, working as a manservant for the prince of Camelot. No one ever risked doing such a thing.
“You have magic,” Uther stated slowly, his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword, which was tucked into its sheath. There was always a sense of fear Merlin felt towards Uther, not only because of his tyranny but also because he was the king. Even as Arthur’s manservant, he did his best to hide in the shadows, make sure his lips were sealed shut, and keep his head down. He knew better than to test the king’s wrath, but there was no way to avoid it now. For all he knew, he would be beheaded by Uther’s hand.
Merlin swallowed down the bile lodged in his throat, lifting his chin. If he was going to die, then he would at least speak his truth. There was no point in denying it until the end. “I was born with it,” he said calmly. Whispers and gasps broke out in the crowd. From the corner of his eye, he could see Gaius standing off to the side with a terrified expression, Gwen standing behind him and clutching onto his arm like a child.
“Silence!” Uther shouted, making everyone hush. He stepped towards the boy, turning his attention to Gaius. He sneered. “Did you know about this, Gaius?”
Gaius opened his mouth to reply, but Merlin quickly interjected, “He knew nothing about my magic. It was all me. Gaius was just taking care of me for my mother’s sake.”
For the first time since Merlin was brought into the throne room, Arthur looked at him. He stared for a long moment and, no matter how naive it was, Merlin allowed himself to hope. The prince glanced briefly at Gaius before clearing his throat, stepping up. “I believe he’s speaking the truth, father. Merlin would never risk Gaius’ life like that,” he said.
It was a shame that Merlin certainly did so. And, unfortunately, Gaius had the tendency to willingly risk his life for him. Uther nodded, his lips still curled into an ugly sneer. He looked back down at Merlin, disgust evident on his features. “I will not allow you to poison this kingdom.”
Merlin couldn’t help the sardonic laugh that slipped out of his lips, shrugging off the guard’s hand and glaring up at the king. “You’re wrong,” he said. “ You brought magic into the heart of Camelot. You’re the one who has spent decades persecuting my kind because you blame them for Ygraine’s death, when really you are the reason she’s dead‒”
Gasps echoed in the room at the harsh slap . Merlin could feel blood trickling down his cheek, his skin burning from the sharpness of Uther’s rings. There were tears in his eyes, blurring his vision. He blinked them away and slowly lifted his head back up, his lips pursing into a thin line. He would not let Uther break him. “You are a coward, Uther Pendragon.”
“You will be executed in the morning,” Uther stated through gritted teeth. “Seize him!”
The guards didn’t hesitate to grab Merlin by the arms once more, dragging him towards the doors. All eyes were on him, but all he could do was stare over Uther’s shoulder at Arthur. He could see the realization dawning on his face, as if he was just beginning to understand that Merlin would no longer be in the world in a day’s time.
The last thing Merlin saw as the doors shut was the terror in Arthur’s eyes.
Things could be worse , Merlin thought as he stared down at his wrists, which were rubbed raw from the iron shackles. His skin burned and bled, but it wasn’t like the guards were going to help him, and he knew that Gaius wouldn’t be permitted to heal him, even if Uther thought he was innocent in the matter.
But things could be worse. He could be dead right now, but, instead, he was alive. It’d been at least a few hours since his trial, considering that the moon was shining high in the sky, leaving a trail of light for Merlin to see in his cell.
It wasn’t like he was really holding out hope. There was no way anyone would be able to get him out and the iron cuffs were effective in suppressing his magic. Merlin long accepted his fate when the guards first seized him, but he wished that some way, somehow, the world would be kind to him and let him die peacefully in his cell. He couldn’t stand to be propped up in the Citadel in the morning, a crowd surrounding him as the executioner sharpened his blade one last time before swinging down on him.
The thought brought tears to Merlin’s eyes, but he managed to wipe them with his sleeve. He leaned against the wall, knees pressed against his chest as he watched the guards rolling dice a few feet away from his cell, sipping on their ale and snickering amongst each other. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. They were useless.
The guards were quick to straighten up when footsteps were heard coming down the stairs, lowering their head in respect. Merlin’s breath hitched in his throat when he saw Arthur, who was speaking quietly to the guards. They glanced at each other hesitantly before walking off, leaving Arthur alone in the dungeons with him.
Merlin scrambled to his feet as the prince approached him. “Arthur,” he breathed out. Just like before, his expression was unreadable, but Merlin could see the fear in his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was towards him or what was going to happen to him. “I‒”
Arthur raised a hand and Merlin immediately stopped talking. It wasn’t everyday that he would actually listen to Arthur, but he supposed there should be a first before he was executed.
“Why?” Arthur asked.
It was such a simple question, yet Merlin felt a wave of different emotions hitting him. Why? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you trust me? went unspoken, suffocating his heart. There was a little crack in the other’s voice and his eyes were red-rimmed, but he held himself up with grace.
He wrapped his shackled hands around the bars, trying to gather some semblance of reaching out. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t make you choose between me and your father,” Merlin said, hoping that Arthur could hear the truth in his voice, see it in his eyes and think back to every moment they shared. In the days he spent as Arthur’s manservant, he dreaded the thought of telling him the truth, knowing that the result would either be his execution or the prince having to lie to his father. Perhaps, he should’ve been more worried about his own life rather than Arthur having to make a decision, but Merlin simply couldn’t do that when he saw the way the other devoted himself to the people he loved. “I only use it for you, Arthur. Only for you. I was protecting you.”
Arthur stared at him with a stoic expression, but his resolve was crumbling. Merlin could see it in the way his eyes were glistening with tears once more. For a moment, he couldn’t help but think how heartbreakingly beautiful the prince was. “I understand,” he said quietly, leaning his head against the cell bars. He was staring down at Merlin’s hands, grimacing at how they were rubbed raw.
Merlin bit his lip, hesitantly leaning his head on the bars as well. He felt the faint brush of Arthur’s golden strands on his forehead, almost like a caress. His eyes fluttered shut, drawing out a breath. “Please, just trust me.”
He felt the other’s fingers wrap carefully around his own and sighed, embracing the heat coming from him. “I promise, Arthur. All of this was for you,” he whispered. Merlin opened his eyes, only to see Arthur’s gazing into his own.
And then, he asked the question, “Do you trust me?”
It shouldn’t have been a surprise to hear Arthur ask him that, but Merlin couldn’t help how his heart jumped. He felt a flicker of hope, nodding vigorously. “Always,” he promised.
Arthur inhaled deeply, glanced around, and pulled the keys off his belt. He unlocked the cell with ease, grasping Merlin’s arm gently and pulling him out. His eyes scanned over his body worriedly, making sure not to hurt the sorcerer. “We’re going to have to be careful,” he whispered.
Merlin nodded, watching as Arthur unlocked the iron cuffs. He sighed in relief at the rush of his magic flowing through his body, seeping into his skin and bones like it was home. Perhaps, it was. He gently rubbed his wrists, looking at the prince. “Thank you,” he muttered.
There was a flicker of something in Arthur’s eyes. Something deep, filled with unadulterated emotion. He blinked, grabbing Merlin’s hand and intertwining their fingers. “I hope you’re ready to use your magic,” he said, leading him out of the dungeons.
In an instant, Merlin muttered a spell to knock the guards out from before. Arthur glanced at him with wide eyes, but kept moving. He followed Arthur down the corridors, trying to be as quiet as possible. But then the warning bell rang and they bolted , the other leading them through hidden passageways and shadowy corners before they managed to make it out of the castle.
Merlin was so very exhausted, the weight of the day falling onto his shoulders. But they were almost out; they just needed to get to the woods and it was just in their line of sight. He looked at Arthur, who was still grasping onto his hand and staring determinedly ahead. Despite everything, he smiled. He’d yearned for this every single day for the past year, hoping that, one day, Arthur would learn about his magic and he wouldn’t see him as a monster. Even when he was a little boy, all he ever wanted was to be seen for who he really was. His grip tightened on Arthur’s hand and the blonde glanced back at him, his eyes softening when he saw Merlin’s smile. He smiled back gently.
Eventually, they arrived at the woods. Merlin’s horse (or, more accurately, Arthur’s horse that Merlin used), Hengroen, was tied to a tree with a knapsack placed atop his saddle. “You have to go,” Arthur said, turning towards Merlin and resting his hands on his shoulders. “Don’t go to Ealdor ‒ that’s where my father will look for you first. Stay out of sight for the next few weeks, okay?”
“No.” Merlin shook his head, his hands coming up to wrap around the prince’s wrists. “If you go back there, Uther will know that you helped me escape. Who knows what he’ll do to you?”
Arthur heaved a sigh, his grip tightening but not enough to hurt. “I’ll be okay as long as I know that you’re safe and far away from here. He will forgive me one day,” he said.
Merlin looked at the other incredulously. “Uther isn’t really known for being forgiving,” he retorted.
“Shut up, Mer lin,” Arthur muttered. He pulled back, reaching out an arm and clasping onto Merlin’s. It was something he did with his knights, with a companion he’d fight for life with. He squeezed gently at Merlin’s forearm. “Be careful.”
Merlin squeezed back and hesitated, only to throw his arms around Arthur’s neck. He felt the other tense up before he slid his hands over his back, holding on tightly. “Thank you,” he whispered, his cheek brushing against the other’s as he reluctantly pulled away.
Arthur’s lower lip quivered and he nodded his head. “Go,” he said quietly.
There was a part of Merlin that so desperately wanted to protest, but he knew Arthur. He was just as stubborn as himself. That’s why they spent the entirety of Merlin’s servitude constantly butting heads. He nodded, turning towards Hengroen and grabbing his knapsack.
“Arthur! Merlin!” The two turned at the sound of the familiar voice, only to see Morgana and Gwen running towards them.
“Morgana?” Arthur said incredulously. “ Gwen? What are you doing here?”
Both of the girls were breathless by the time they approached Merlin and Arthur, but Morgana shoved the knapsack she was holding into his chest. “You need to go with Merlin,” she stated.
“What? I can’t! I have to be here for the kingdom!” Arthur exclaimed.
Morgana was quick to glare at the blonde, breathlessness aside. “Uther will have you locked in the dungeons,” she retaliated.
Arthur stiffened, grasping tightly onto the knapsack. He stood there for a moment, not breaking eye contact with her. “What about the both of you? Uther will have to know that you’re helping us,” he responded.
“Uther already checked on us when the warning bell started ringing,” Gwen interjected, her eyes filled with compassion. “I doubt he won’t be suspicious of us, but he will too be focused on reigning in the chaos. We’ll be okay, Arthur. Right now, the kingdom doesn’t need you ‒ Merlin does,” she said softly, her eyes flickering between the both of them.
All it took were those two words for Arthur to concede. He took a step back, nodding slightly. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Morgana’s eyes softened before she hugged Arthur, doing the same to Merlin afterwards. Gwen pressed a kiss to their cheeks, blinking away her tears. “Be careful,” she said softly.
Merlin met the prince’s eyes, watching as he climbed onto the horse. He looked at the girls and smiled. “We will,” he promised, grabbing the hand Arthur held out for him and getting onto the horse with ease.
Arthur looked at him over his shoulder, holding onto the reins. “Hold fast,” he said, almost with a small, playful smirk.
Merlin couldn’t help but smile back as he held onto the other tightly, and they took off.