Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Merlin trudged through the underbrush, scowling as he stepped over a large fern. “Arthur, I’m sure it’s nothing,” he whispered. “Can’t we just forget it and keep going?”

“We’re on patrol, Merlin, not vacation.” Arthur crept around the tree, still following the tracks of the “suspicious figure” he had spotted on patrol and insisted on checking out.

Merlin rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to cast a glance back at the knights. He knew they’d be on Arthur’s side. Merlin might be too if it he didn’t have a strange, tingly, antsy feeling. “Something’s wrong, Arthur.”

Arthur sighed. “Yes, there is. That’s why we’re checking it out.”

“What if it’s a trap?”

Arthur leaned against a tree and turned around to face Merlin. “Then you can cower behind a tree while we defeat the enemy. Now come on!” He shoved off and crept on.

Merlin sighed and followed. Arthur didn’t like to listen to him when he had good points. Why would he listen when all he had was a funny feeling? Merlin didn’t even listen to himself when all he had was a funny feeling.

Arthur drew into a clearing. He gestured to them. The knights fanned out. Merlin shrugged and stuck to Arthur’s side.

A dark figure loomed behind the bushes.

Arthur raised his sword. “Show yourself.”

A voice murmured, rising to a shout. “Dod yn ifanc unwaith eto!” The figure raised a hand.

Merlin knocked Arthur down to the ground. The knights charged forward. Merlin panted, struggling to catch his breath. He peeked to his side. The figure had bolted. Arthur was no longer in the line of fire. He climbed off of Arthur. “Are you all right?”

Arthur’s clothes lay loose on the forest floor. A small blond head poked out of the neck of his chainmail, blue eyes blinking owlishly. “What happened? Who are you? Where am I?” His lip trembled.

“Arthur?” Merlin exclaimed.

The young boy in Arthur’s clothes nodded. “I’m Prince Arthur. What’s going on?”

Merlin blinked several times, but the sight didn’t disappear. Arthur had been de-aged.

Merlin stood frozen, unable to process or move until tears began to fill Arthur’s clear blue eyes. Merlin knelt in front of Arthur. “Hey, hey, it’s all right.”

“I’m sorry I ran away again, I’m sorry, please don’t tell my father!” Arthur’s chin trembled. He wiped at his eyes.

“There, there, it’s all right, I won’t tell your father.” Merlin didn’t bother to tell him that Uther had been catatonic for a while and wouldn’t register his existence. This Arthur clearly didn’t have any memories beyond his current physical age. “Here, let’s get that chainmail off you.” He grabbed the chainmail and lifted it with the pieces of armor and his belt. Given Arthur’s new size, they easily slid off without being untied.

When Merlin set the chainmail in the leaves, he turned back to Arthur. He sat in the leaves dwarfed by his gambeson. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He wiped them away with his sleeve. Arthur glanced up, sensing Merlin’s gaze on him.

“I’m not crying!” Arthur declared stoutly.

“Of course not,” Merlin assured him. He untied the gambeson and set it with the chainmail. Arthur sat in his red shirt, sleeves dangling past his hands and slipping off his shoulders. Merlin tied the strings on the neck of the shirt tight until the shirt wasn’t slipping off.

“I’m not! You can’t…” Arthur sniffed loudly. “You can’t tell my father. Because I’m not.”

“I wouldn’t dream of telling your father. I serve you, not him.” Merlin ignored Arthur’s beam that melted his heart, but quickly faded. He folded Arthur’s sleeves up until his hands were revealed. He resisted the urge to grab them and marvel at them. They were so small. His arms were stick-thin too. “How old are you, Arthur?”

“Six,” Arthur said. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Merlin said. “Can you stand up for me, Arthur?”

Arthur nodded. Merlin helped him to his feet, pulling his loose clothes with him. The shirt fell to his knees. Probably modest enough, but Merlin wasn’t taking chances with this tiny Arthur.

“What happened? How did I get out here?” Arthur asked.

“How do you think this happened?” Merlin deflected. He pulled Arthur’s pants up to his waist, then cinched it tight with his belt that had been around his waist.

“I ran away again with some knight armor and my father’s men found me,” Arthur said.

Merlin nodded. “Then I’m sure that’s what happened.” He took the dagger from Arthur’s belt and cut off the pants around his ankles. Arthur would have to go around barefoot, but all in all, he was semi-presentable. He tucked the dagger into his own belt and sat back.

Arthur was quite small for a six-year-old. He was also quite pale and skinny, almost sickly. He was still sniffling. “Why don’t I remember all that?”

Merlin frowned. “Because you were attacked by a sorcerer. The knights are chasing him down now.”

Arthur nodded. He wrapped his arms around himself.

He was so trusting. Older, normal Arthur was plenty trusting, but this Arthur… he just believed what he was told without question.

“Who are you?” Arthur asked.

“I’m Merlin.”

“We lost him,” Lancelot said. The other knights crashed through the underbrush behind him.

Arthur jumped and spun around.

Gwaine frowned. “What happened to Arthur?”

Merlin stood and put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “This is Prince Arthur Pendragon.”

The knights stared at him in silence for at least a minute.

“That can’t be,” Percival said. “Arthur is—”

“Lost in the woods?” Merlin broke in. “We need to get him to Camelot as soon as possible so he can recover from his magical attack, don’t we?” For some reason, he had an urge to protect this tiny, trembling Arthur far more than he protected his adult friend.

The knights stared at him in shock before Leon broke free.

“Of course.” Leon stepped forward. “We should return to the horses and ride for Camelot.” He set off through the trees.

The other knights followed. Percival stepped over to grab Arthur’s abandoned things.

Arthur pressed close to Merlin’s legs. Merlin patted his shoulder and led him forward. “It’ll be all right.”

“I’m not scared,” Arthur murmured.

“Of course not,” Merlin agreed.

Chapter Text

The trek back seemed far longer than the trek there. The knights said nothing but kept staring at Arthur. He hung his head and wouldn’t look at them. Gwaine tried to walk beside Merlin and Arthur, but Arthur shied away from him whenever he got too close, pressing so close to Merlin that Merlin almost fell several times. Eventually, Merlin had to ask Gwaine to keep his distance. Gwaine pouted but left.

Arthur’s behavior didn’t make sense. He was a knight. Surely from a very young age, he had already been put on that track. So why was he afraid of them?

Arthur began panting heavily. Merlin wanted to offer to pick him up, but tiny Arthur probably had just as much pride as big Arthur, if not more. Convincing him to let himself be picked up would undoubtedly be a losing battle.

Leon emerged onto the road and cursed heavily. Merlin had to tuck his hands into his belt to avoid clapping his hands over Arthur’s ears. What was wrong with him? Arthur wasn’t actually a child. Why did he want to take care of him like one?

Merlin and Arthur emerged onto the road, which was far too empty. His heart sank. Their horses were gone. “Did the horses run off?” Merlin asked.

“Or they were stolen.” Gwaine kicked a rock and cursed. “We’re going to have to walk back.”

Arthur melted into heaving sobs.

“Arthur?” Elyan exclaimed.

“What, can the princess not handle a short walk?” Gwaine commented.

Merlin cast a fiery glare at Gwaine. He knelt in front of Arthur and grasped his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

Arthur shook his head. He covered his face with his hands and kept sobbing.

“Arthur, tell me what’s wrong,” Merlin pressed. “I’m here for you, I’m not here for Uther. You can tell me what’s wrong.”

“We…we’re gonna be late,” Arthur said between hitching sobs. “We’re… gonna… take… for… forever… to get home… and… and Father’s… gonna know… and… and he’s gonna punish me.”

That prickling, staticky, something’s-wrong feeling returned. Arthur wasn’t the type to cry, especially not like this, and he was always brave, almost foolishly brave. To be this scared of his father’s punishment? Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“It’s all right, Arthur,” Merlin said. “I’ll tell your father it was my fault.”

Arthur shook his head. “He won’t believe you. It’s always my fault. I’m the prince. It’s my… my… ‘sponsability. Even if… somebody else…” He shook his head again.

“Then I’ll take your punishment,” Merlin said. “Whatever your father prescribes, I’ll take it.”

Arthur’s sobs quieted. “You’d do that?” His eyes shone.

Merlin nodded.

“He’ll kill you.” Arthur’s lip jutted out.

Merlin shrugged. “I think you’ll find I’m pretty hard to kill.” He stood up and stuck out his hand. “You ready to go?”

Arthur wiped his face with his sleeve and slipped his hand in Merlin’s. He nodded. “I wasn’t crying.”

“Of course not,” Merlin said.

Even quieter now, the knights, Merlin, and Arthur started towards Camelot.

The sun was setting in the sky, darkness falling in the woods. Arthur had become completely exhausted, stumbling along with his eyes almost closed. Merlin had picked him up then, and Arthur was so tired, he didn’t protest, just wrapped his arms around Merlin’s neck and rested his head on his shoulder.

Gwaine glanced back. “Is he asleep?”

Merlin nodded.

Gwaine dropped back to Merlin’s side and nodded at Arthur. “What do you think is wrong with him?”

“He’s six years old when he shouldn’t be,” Merlin said.

Gwaine rolled his eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.” He tucked his thumbs into his belt. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him cry before.”

“And you had to make fun of him,” Elyan said. “He’s just a kid.”

Gwaine shrugged, but he seemed to hang his head a bit. Or maybe it was Merlin’s imagination.

“Leon, do you know what’s wrong?” Lancelot asked.

Leon shook his head. “I wasn’t in Camelot when Arthur was that young. By the time I joined the knights of Camelot, he was already a squire.”

They quieted. If not even Leon knew, then none of them had been in Camelot early enough to know what was wrong.

“He was afraid of Uther,” Lancelot said.

“Aren’t we all?” Gwaine said.

“Can’t you stay serious for one minute?” Elyan snapped. “You know this isn’t normal. Arthur doesn’t cry. And I’ve never seen him afraid of his father, not like that.”

Arthur frowned and whimpered. Merlin shifted his arms so one could support him with one arm and rubbed his back. Arthur sighed and tightened his arms around Merlin’s neck.

“He’s afraid of us too,” Gwaine said.

“Why?” Percival asked.

“I mean, we’re his knights,” Elyan said.

“He doesn’t know that,” Merlin said. “He thinks you’re his father’s knights.”

“He’s not afraid of you,” Lancelot commented.

“I told him I serve him, not his father,” Merlin said. It all went back to Uther. What he couldn’t figure out was why. Arthur was supposed to be the one person Uther was nice to.

“Plus, who could be scared of Merlin?” Gwaine said.

The other knights laughed except for Leon. Leon walked off the side of the road. “Let’s make camp here.” He stopped in a small clearing about twenty yards from the road.

Merlin and the rest of the knights followed him Merlin sank down on the ground, his back against a log. Normally, he’d start a fire himself, but he wasn’t willing to put Arthur down, not when he was in such a vulnerable state and Merlin was the only one he trusted.

“I’ll make a fire,” Elyan offered. He walked off to gather firewood.

Arthur shivered, tucking himself against Merlin’s chest.

“Here.” Percival set Arthur’s things down and unclasped his cloak. He draped it around Arthur and Merlin.

Merlin smiled at him. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Gwaine,” Leon said.

Gwaine, who had just flopped down on the ground and pulled an apple out of his bag, raised his head. “Yes?”

“I need to speak with you.”

Gwaine put his apple back in his bag and stood. “All right.”

Leon drew him off. Merlin couldn’t tell what they were saying, but from the tone and Leon gesturing to Arthur, it was clear Gwaine was being lectured.

Elyan returned and built the fire, then Merlin, Percival, Elyan, and Lancelot sat around the fire silently.

“What do we do when we get back to Camelot?” Percival asked. “Who’s in charge?”

“Agravaine?” Elyan suggested.

“Oh gosh, I hope not,” Merlin said without thinking. Percival, Elyan, and Lancelot turned to stare at him. He shrugged. “I mean, no offense to Arthur, but his uncle is so…” He trailed off, not exactly sure what word he was looking for.

Lancelot nodded. “I’m glad Arthur’s happy with him, but…”

“I wouldn’t put him in charge of a country,” Elyan finished.

“Exactly,” Lancelot said.

“Well, hopefully it won’t come to that,” Merlin said. “If we can disguise his absence until he’s restored to his proper form, we won’t have to worry about it.”

Arthur’s heavy warm body was lulling Merlin to sleep. Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival continued their quiet conversation, but Merlin fell fast asleep.

Chapter Text

“Merlin?”

Where Merlin was didn’t make sense. He was lying against a log, a cloak (a knight’s cloak?) wrapped around him, and a warm body on top of him. Why was a kid talking to him? Why was there even a kid around?

“Merlin, I’m hungry and thirsty,” the kid said.

Oh. It was Arthur.

Merlin dragged his eyes open. Arthur had woken up and was sitting up, Percival’s cloak around his shoulders. Arthur’s own cloak had been left on his horse. The sun was up. The knights were sitting around the fire chatting, Gwaine turning a rabbit over the flames.

Lancelot held his canteen out. “I told you, Arthur, you can borrow my canteen.”

Arthur stared at him, then turned back to Merlin. He tugged on his jacket. “Merlin.”

Merlin sat up, grimacing. Pain ached in his back. He really shouldn’t have fallen asleep in that position. “It’s all right, Arthur.”

Arthur slid off Merlin’s lap into the leaves, taking the cloak with him. He reached out and grabbed the canteen, then shrank against Merlin’s side and drank, his hands shaking.

Arthur stared up at Merlin. “I’m still hungry.”

“You’ll have to wait until it’s done. How much longer, Gwaine?” Merlin asked.

“Not much longer.” Gwaine glanced up and smiled at Arthur and Merlin.

Arthur hid his face in Merlin’s shirt. He pulled it out after Gwaine looked away. He stuck his feet out in front of him and wiggled his toes under the cloak. “We need to leave soon. We’re gonna be very late to Camelot, and Father’ll be furious.”

“It’ll be all right,” Merlin said. “Didn’t I tell you I’d take care of it?”

“Besides, you need to eat before we start out,” Leon said. “Your father will understand.”

“He never understands,” Arthur muttered.

“It’s done,” Gwaine said. He lifted the rabbit off the fire. “Come get what you want, Arthur.”

Arthur tensed.

Merlin patted his shoulder. “Go on.”

Arthur stood, dumping the cloak in Merlin’s lap, and walked over to Gwaine.

“Grab some for me as well,” Merlin said.

“But I’m the prince!” Arthur exclaimed.

“And?” Merlin said.

Arthur glanced at the rabbit, then Merlin, then the rabbit, then Merlin, then the rabbit again. He reached forward and pulled a leg off, then tilted his head and pulled off another leg.

“You got yours and Merlin’s?” Gwaine asked.

Arthur nodded.

“All right.” Gwaine stood up and held the rabbit out to Elyan.

Arthur flinched. He scrambled back, landing on his butt at Gwaine’s feet. He clutched the rabbit’s legs to his chest, his brows drawn and his lip jutting out. He trembled minutely. “This was a trick, wasn’t it? You tricked me into disobeying my father’s rules. That was mean!” He climbed to his feet and jutted his chin out. “Well, get it over with.”

“Get what over with?” Gwaine absent-mindedly held the stick out to Elyan, frowning. Elyan took it from him, also frowning.

“The punishment. I broke a rule, so I have to face the punishment,” Arthur said. He was still trembling, but his back was as straight as a poker. Merlin’s heart twisted. So young and already displaying his typical bravery in the face of terror. Except this shouldn’t have been terrifying. Not for him. Such a young child shouldn’t know how to pronounce “punishment” so well. What about Arthur’s childhood had he kept from Merlin? Well, he knew the answer was quite a lot, but what of great importance had Arthur hidden from everyone?

“What rule?” Elyan asked.

“A prince never serves himself food,” Arthur said. “And he never serves others food either. Go ahead, just punish me. I know you have to, and I know you like it, ‘cause I’m the stuck-up prince. So just do it. It hurts less when I’m expecting it.”

“What punishment?” Leon asked.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You know.” He switched the legs to one hand and pushed the back of his hand against his cheek. “That.”

“Hold on.” Merlin’s stomach curdled. “Are you saying that Gwaine is supposed to backhand you?”

Arthur nodded. “He has to. King’s orders.”

Gwaine stuck his chin in the air. “Well, I couldn’t give two figs about the king’s orders.”

“Yeah, Arthur, we’re not going to hit you,” Elyan said.

Arthur frowned. “But you have to. If you don’t, he’ll hit you too or dismiss you, and it’ll be my fault.” He spun to Merlin. “You have to tell him.”

Merlin shook his head. “It doesn’t matter whether or not the king will punish us for not punishing you. I won’t do it, and neither will the rest of us.”

“But you have to!” Arthur insisted. “Surely one of you hates me enough to hit me.”

Percival shook his head. “It’s wrong to hit a child.”

“I swore an oath to defend the helpless,” Lancelot said. “Hitting you would go against that.”

Arthur crossed his arms. “I am not helpless.”

“Children, then,” Lancelot said.

Arthur jutted his chin out and turned to Leon.

Leon shook his head. “I took the same oath Lancelot did. I’m sworn to defend the helpless and innocent, and I’m sworn to defend my prince. I would be violating that oath if I hit you.”

“But you wouldn’t!” Arthur said. “My father said you have to, and he’s never wrong, so it couldn’t be violating your oath. You have to hit me!”

“Your father can be wrong just like everyone else, prince…” Gwaine trailed off awkwardly in the middle of the word. Merlin bit back a sigh. He must have almost called Arthur princess. That was not what Arthur needed to hear right now.

“That’s not true!” Arthur’s eyes flitted back and forth between them. “You’re liars! You’re not my father’s knights. They would hit me like they’re supposed to.”

“Arthur—” Gwaine started forward.

“Get away from me!” Arthur threw the rabbit legs in the leaves and bolted into the woods.

Merlin stood up and bolted after him. “Arthur!”

Merlin’s heart pounded. Arthur was a small, sickly six-year-old. How could he have disappeared so thoroughly? He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Arthur!”

Leaves rustled, but no wind stirred in the forest. Merlin glanced up. Arthur clung to the trunk of a tree, pushing himself up by one of the branches.

Merlin sighed. “Arthur, come down.”

“No!” Arthur wrapped his arms tighter around the trunk of the tree. “I won’t! You’re a liar! You’re not with my father or you’d hit me like you’re supposed to!”

Merlin pressed his lips together and crossed his arms. He didn’t know what to do with Arthur. The fact that Arthur couldn’t trust them because they refused to hit him was horrible and would cause them a great deal of trouble. They couldn’t hit Arthur to convince him to come with them. But what could they do? Telling him the truth might make him run away completely. “You’re right. We’re not from your father. We’re from your mother.” He hated to use her like this, but he was sure she’d understand. It was for the safety of her son.

Arthur froze. “My mother?”

“Before she died, she appointed us to look after you. I’m sorry we took so long to find you, sire,” Merlin said.

“But… But you don’t want to hit me,” Arthur said.

“Your mother never believed in striking children.” Merlin didn’t want to put words in Ygraine’s mouth, but he didn’t believe what he said of her was wrong. He’d always imagined that Ygraine had all of Arthur’s best qualities and none of the worst ones, the ones that seemed to come from Uther. She must have been kind, sweet, and showed emotion where her son did not.

“Are you telling the truth?” Arthur asked.

Merlin was suddenly struck with a thought. He dug in his satchel for the neckerchief-wrapped bundle of his most precious possessions. He sorted through the pile. A bracelet of his mother’s, his father’s dragon carving, Gaius’s rabbit’s foot, a broken button of Gwen’s, the flower he made for Freya. There it was. He pulled out the seal Arthur gave him a few weeks ago, which both warmed Merlin’s heart as a symbol of their deep friendship, and chilled his blood, as he knew Arthur had thought he was about to die and meant it for something Merlin could remember him by when he was gone. Merlin turned it over in his hands, then held it up. “Here. This is your mother’s seal. Would I have that if I wasn’t telling the truth?”

Arthur gasped. He let go of the trunk and scrambled down the branches. His foot slipped and he fell through the air, screaming.

Merlin darted forward and caught the falling child in his arms. He smiled. Always saving you, you prat. He set Arthur on his feet and brushed him off. “Are you all right?”

Arthur nodded. He reached up and took the seal from Merlin’s hand. He turned it over and over, frowning. He gasped. “It is hers!” He flung his arms around Merlin, then gave him back the seal. He tilted his head. “How did you know it was me?”

Merlin smiled, resisting the urge to ruffle his hair. “You’re pretty unmistakable.”

“Are you a knight like they are?” Arthur asked.

Merlin shook his head. “I’m your manservant.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “Oh. I’ve never had one of those before. Is that better than a nanny?”

“Much better than a nanny.” Merlin stuck the seal back in his satchel and stuck out his hand. “Shall we return to camp and eat breakfast?”

Arthur drooped. He slid his hand in Merlin’s. “I guess.”

Merlin couldn’t help but marvel at the trust Arthur showed him. “Come on, let’s go. It’ll be all right.”

Arthur simply sighed and shuffled along by Merlin’s side.

Arthur still didn’t talk to the knights during the entire walk back to Camelot. He stayed close to Merlin and kept his head down. Thankfully, they weren’t too far from Camelot, so they’d make it back that day. Arthur kept lagging behind and panting hard, but he insisted he was all right.

They emerged out of the woods and over a hill. Camelot loomed high in the distance. Merlin’s chest loosened. They were almost home.

It took a few steps for Merlin to realize Arthur wasn’t by his side anymore. He turned. Arthur was frozen stiff at the top of the hill, all his muscles tense. Merlin knelt in front of him. “What’s wrong?”

Arthur drew in a deep, shuddery breath and tears gathered in his sharp blue eyes. “Father,” he whimpered.

Merlin grasped Arthur’s bony shoulders. “He’s all right. He won’t hurt you.”

A tear slipped down Arthur’s cheek. “He’s gonna kill me.”

Merlin shook his head. “Arthur, your father is very sick. He hasn’t even realized you were gone.”

“But…when he wakes up…he’ll find out and…” Arthur started to hyperventilate.

“We won’t tell him,” Merlin said. Arthur’s gasping quickened. “Arthur, I promise.”

Tears streamed silently down Arthur’s face. He was gasping so much that he couldn’t speak.

Merlin opened his arms. “Come here.”

Face crumpling, Arthur stepped into Merlin’s arms. Merlin wrapped his arms around his shuddering form and rubbed his back. Arthur pressed his wet face into Merlin’s shoulder. “It’s going to be all right, Arthur. You’re safe. I promise.”

Merlin repeated that over and over as tiny Arthur had a breakdown in his arms. Finally, slowly, he started to calm down.

“You promise you’ll protect me?” Arthur asked.

“I promise,” Merlin said.

Arthur nodded but threw his arms around Merlin’s neck and wouldn’t let go. Merlin restrained a sigh and picked him up. He turned to the knights. They were staring. Gwaine opened his mouth.

Merlin glared at him. “Not now.”

Chapter Text

The townspeople stared at Merlin and the knights as they walked by. Merlin couldn’t very well blame the townspeople, as Merlin and the knights had left on horses with the prince regent and had returned on foot with a child, but Merlin wasn’t very excited that the news of Arthur’s disappearance would spread through the entire town.

They drew up to the castle gates. The guards frowned.

“Where’s the prince?” one of them demanded.

Arthur sat up and opened his mouth. Merlin squeezed him and shook his head.

“He’s still on patrol,” Leon said. “Saw something he wanted to check out. He ordered us to return with the kid.”

“Who is the kid?” the guard asked.

“My brother,” Merlin said. “Tom.”

“Welcome to Camelot, Tom,” the other guard said.

“But—” Arthur started.

“Say thank you, Tom,” Merlin said.

Arthur’s chin jutted out. “Thank you,” he ground out.

“He was kidnapped by sorcerers that stole our horses,” Merlin said.

“Now if you’ll excuse us.” Leon pushed past the guards. The knights and Merlin followed.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Arthur spoke up. “Why did you say all that?”

Merlin’s heart thumped. “Gaius will explain it.”

“Okay.” Arthur settled down again.

They were halfway through the halls to Gaius’s chambers when about the worst—okay, Agravaine was the worst, make that second worst—person they could encounter hurried down the halls toward them. Gwen.

She pressed her hands to her skirt and hurried forward. “You’re back.” She scanned them and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Where’s Arthur?”

“Uh, Gwen.” Elyan stepped forward and took her arm. “We need to talk.”

Gwen crumpled. “No, please. Please tell me he’s not…”

“He’s not.” Elyan tilted his head. “It’s complicated. Please, Gwen, can we speak in private?”

Gwen nodded. She let Elyan lead her off.

“That’s gonna be one h--- of a conversation,” Gwaine said.

“Why?” Arthur asked. “I’m right here. Can’t he just tell her that?”

Merlin swallowed. Leon, Lancelot, Percival, and Gwaine just stared at Arthur.

“It’s complicated,” Lancelot said.

Arthur pouted. “I can figure it out! I’m the prince! I deserve to know!”

Leon nodded. “I agree. And that’s why Gaius is going to explain what’s going on.”

“Exactly!” Merlin said. “Which is why we should go to him. Right now.” Before they ran into Agravaine.

Leon flung the door open with a bang. “Gaius, we need your help.”

Gaius looked up from where he was grinding herbs in a mortar and pestle. “Which one of you is hurt this time?”

Merlin stepped out from where he was hiding behind Percival. “None of us.” He set Arthur down on the floor.

“Gaius!” Arthur dashed to Gaius and wrapped his arms around him.

Gaius raised his eyebrow and glanced from Arthur to Merlin and the knights. “This is Arthur!”

“There was, uh, a sorcerer that attacked him. And…” Merlin trailed off.

“And now the prince is…” Gwaine glanced at Arthur. “Uh…” He held his hand up to his shoulder and then lowered it to about Arthur’s height.

“I’m fine, I just lost my memory. I forgot how I got out there. But I’m fine. You don’t need to tell my father or anything.” Arthur gazed up at Gaius with big eyes. “Do you?”

“Of course not.” Gaius patted Arthur’s shoulder. “You know I won’t. I’ll need to examine you, but first, I need to talk to the others. Why don’t you go grab one of my books and sit in the back room until I call for you?”

Arthur smiled, the first genuine smile Merlin had seen from him since he’d transformed. “Okay!”

“But—” Merlin started.

“It’ll be fine, Merlin,” Gaius said. “Won’t it?” He raised his eyebrow.

Merlin sighed. His room was a mess, but he had hidden his magical items when he left for patrol. “Yes.”

Arthur didn’t pay attention to their exchange. He darted up the steps to the balcony and grabbed a book, then ran into Merlin’s room. “How come it’s so messy?” floated out.

“The last patient was a bit of a slob,” Gaius called. “Close the door, Arthur.”

“I’d say more than a bit,” Arthur said. The door closed.

Gaius turned his stern eye on them. “Explain. Now.”

Gaius rubbed his forehead. He had sat down on a bench as Merlin set into an incredibly truncated version of events, minus the problematic Arthur behavior. “You didn’t tell him he was de-aged?” Gaius asked.

“We were hoping you would,” Leon said.

Gaius sighed. “Of course. Well, I suppose that’s the best idea.”

“There’s another thing,” Merlin said. He wasn’t sure how to go about this. “Arthur, he…”

“Uther abused him.” Gwaine had a serious, dark look on him he rarely wore. “Didn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t exactly say—” Gaius started.

“He got upset when we wouldn’t hit him,” Lancelot broke in. “He thought we couldn’t be his father’s knights because we wouldn’t punish him.”

“I had to tell him we’re his mother’s men so he wouldn’t keep running from us,” Merlin said. “Gaius, he’s afraid of Uther and what he’ll do to him. He had a panic attack when he saw Camelot. What happened to him when he was younger?”

Gaius sighed again. He rubbed his forehead, slumping down. “What I am about to tell you, you cannot ever repeat to anyone. And Gwaine, if you use any of this as fodder to tease Arthur, I’ll poison you myself.”

Gwaine raised his eyebrows. “I understand.”

Merlin swallowed. He’d never seen Gaius this protective before, not even of him. To threaten Gwaine’s wellbeing as a physician with an oath to do no harm… “This is bad, isn’t it?”

“When Arthur was younger, Uther was…different. You have to understand, he had just lost his wife. It… took him a while to come to where he is now, where Arthur is a welcome reminder of Ygraine rather than a painful one. He also had very strict standards as to how Arthur should behave. Anytime Arthur broke those rules, Uther physically punished him, and he instructed the knights and nobles to do the same. Uther made Arthur a page at five, which was far too early, and it meant that the physical abuse escalated to the point where it happened almost every day. At the point where he is now, six, the only people Arthur can be around safely are me and Geoffrey.”

Merlin burned, his hands curling into fists. All the times he’d saved Uther’s life solely for Arthur’s sake, and he had done this to him? He should have just let him die. “And you just stood by and let it happen?”

“Merlin,” Gaius scolded. “Surely you know me better than that. I arranged for Arthur to have hours of lessons with just me or Geoffrey. I helped heal him and offered him a place to run to. I fought for him with Uther. I did all I could without getting banished from Camelot, which would have left Arthur with no allies.”

“What about Geoffrey?” Lancelot asked.

“He would support Arthur if I did, but if I had gone, he would have been too scared to stand up to Uther on his own,” Gaius said.

“Is that why Arthur’s so sickly?” Percival asked.

Gaius shook his head. “He was just born that way. It was touch and go for a while, and he only got his strong frame and physique with puberty.”

Merlin could barely imagine Arthur growing up small and sickly. Maybe that was why he loved physical activity so much now, because for such a long time, he wasn’t able to do it. The thought was still odd, though, and he shoved it away. “What changed? Why did Uther…?” The one thing Merlin had always admired about Uther was how much he cared for his son, how he was willing to die for him if need be. When had he become a father instead of an abuser?

“Arthur was nine,” Gaius said. “He had become friends with one of the servant’s boys and let that slip to Uther. Uther was furious that Arthur was friends with someone he considered below his station and he had Arthur flogged. Arthur ran away and was missing for a couple of weeks, and when he was finally found, he had pneumonia. He almost died. That was when Uther realized he could have killed his son and finally began to truly care for him. He’s never struck Arthur or let anyone else strike him since.”

Merlin’s heart pounded. He was torn between the urge to kill Uther and the urge to wrap Arthur in blankets and never let anyone near him again. Was that incident why Arthur seemed almost allergic to calling him his friend, why it was so hard for him to break free of his father’s teachings?

“Uther is a sick b—d,” Gwaine said.

“Well, he’s broken and harmless now, so it doesn’t truly matter anymore.” Gaius pushed himself up with a groan.

“Can I come out now? I have questions,” Arthur said.

“It’s safe, Arthur. You can come on out. I have something to tell you,” Gaius called.

Arthur ran out, book still in hand, and climbed onto the bench next to Gaius. “What is it?”

“Arthur, I—” Gaius stopped. “Arthur, what do you know of magic?”

“It can do lots of stuff and Father says it’s evil,” Arthur said promptly. “Why?”

“Merlin told you that you were attacked by a sorcerer, didn’t he?” Gaius said.

Arthur nodded. “But I’m fine, I promise. I don’t feel any different.”

“Well, see…your highness, you are different,” Gaius said.

“How?” Arthur asked.

Gaius opened his mouth, then paused. “I don’t exactly know how to say this, Arthur but…” He glanced at Merlin and the knights.

“Yesterday morning, you were twenty-four,” Merlin said. “You were attacked by a sorcerer and suddenly you were six again. I didn’t know how to tell you without scaring you off, so I waited until we were back.”

Arthur’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t believe you,” he said.

“Arthur, it’s true,” Gaius said. “I’ve treated you for your entire life. I’ve treated you for sword wounds and poisons. I saw you grow up before my eyes and now I see you and you’re small again. I can assure you, you used to be much bigger.”

Arthur frowned. “But…but that doesn’t make sense.”

“Arthur…” Merlin knelt in front of his tiny friend. “When I met you, you were twenty, and a bit of a prat. You could wield a mace and a sword, and I saved your life and became your manservant. You traveled far into Camelot to get an antidote for a poison I consumed even though your father told you not to. You fought a dragon and won. You’ve defended Camelot from invasions and fought for what’s right. You grew into an amazing man right before my eyes, and now you’re small and it’s odd,” Merlin said.

Arthur crossed his arms and glared at Merlin. “You lied, didn’t you? You’re not from my mother at all.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Merlin said. “What I showed you, you gave me, because I lost my father like how you lost your mother. You thought you were going to die, so you gave that to me to remember you by.”

Arthur was silent for a few seconds. “Are we best friends?”

“I’d like to think so, yes,” Merlin said.

“’Cause that’s the only reason I’d give that to you,” Arthur said. He turned his stern gaze to the knights. The look sent chills down Merlin’s spine. At six, Arthur had already perfected his look of kingly judgement. “And you. You lied to me! You promised me you weren’t from my father!”

“We’re not,” Lancelot said. He knelt in front of Arthur, next to Merlin. “When I met you, I was wandering through the countryside hoping I could become a knight of Camelot. It was only when I got to Camelot that I realized only noblemen could be knights.”

Arthur tilted his head. “You’re not a nobleman?”

“I’m a commoner,” Lancelot said. “Because of that, your father barred me from the knights, but you recognized my skill. I helped you fight a griffin, and about a year ago, when Camelot and your father were captured by enemies, I met you again, and you knighted me. I helped you fight to take back Camelot, and I’ve served you ever since.”

“I only met you when Camelot was captured,” Percival said. “I didn’t know you very long before you knighted me, then I helped you take back Camelot and free your father. You have a noble heart, and I’m proud to be your knight.”

Gwaine smirked. “We met a long time ago, princess, and I saved your life.”

“I’m a prince, not a princess!” Arthur said hotly.

Gwaine sobered. “In all honesty, Arthur, I never had a cause to fight for until I met you and Merlin. I was lost and aimless. All I did was wander about and get into fights in taverns. I hated nobility, and then I met you. You put the noble in nobility. Your father banished me from Camelot, but you knighted me. You saw the worth in me when hardly anyone else ever had. Your father may technically be the king, but he’s not my king. You are.”

“I never knew you could be so flowery, Gwaine.” Elyan pushed himself away from the doorframe of the room.

Merlin spun, jumping about a foot. He stood up. Elyan was back, without Gwen, notably. That was probably for the best. Arthur would probably be more embarrassed if she saw him as a six-year-old than he was about the donkey thing, and Merlin had waited too long for them to get together for them to screw it up with stupidity now.

Elyan strode forward. Arthur tracked him as he grew closer.

“How did I meet you?” Arthur asked.

“You saved my life,” Elyan said. “King Cenred captured me to set a trap for you, because you’re close to my sister, and even though you knew it was a trap, you came to save me anyway. I took up my father’s trade as a blacksmith until Camelot fell, when you knighted me.”

Leon stepped forward. “I’m afraid I was knighted by your father, but I trained for knighthood alongside you. I’ve fought many battles by your side. You rode out against a dragon for Camelot even though you knew you’d probably die, and that was when I knew you’d be a greater king than your father ever could be. Uther didn’t even bother to fight the dragon himself, but you were willing to give your life to try and kill the dragon when you knew it would be almost impossible. I would die for you, sire, and I’m proud to call myself your knight.”

Arthur stared at them all, his mouth open, his legs swinging from the bench. “You really think I’m better than my father?”

Exclamations broke out, all of the speaking over each other.

“Oh, definitely,” Merlin said.

“Undoubtedly,” Lancelot said.

“No contest,” Elyan said.

“Hands down you’re the only noble I actually like,” Gwaine said.

“Head and shoulders,” Percival said.

“He can’t compare to you,” Leon said.

Arthur turned to Gaius. “Gaius, did you hear?”

Gaius smiled. “Yes, I did.” He patted Arthur’s book. “They’re right, you know.”

Arthur sobered. “My father’ll be furious when he hears that.”

“Arthur…” Gaius said. “Your father is ill. Very ill. When he was captured, his mind gave out. He’s been sick ever since, too sick to rule or notice anything around him. He’s probably never going to recover.”

Arthur’s face wavered between elation and devastation. “So I’m safe? For good?”

Merlin nodded. “You’re safe.”

“If my father’s too sick to rule, then who’s in charge of Camelot now?” Arthur asked.

The room fell silent, the awkward moment stretching. Finally, Merlin couldn’t stand it anymore. “You are,” he said. “You’re the prince regent.”

A knock sounded on the door. “Gaius?” Gwen said. The door creaked open and she stuck her head in. “May I come in?”

“Who’s that?” Arthur asked.

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. Merlin hid his face in his hands. He couldn’t face this. This would be the embarrassment of all embarrassments.

“She’s your girlfriend,” Gwaine said.

Merlin peeked through his fingers.

Arthur had frozen. He stared wide-eyed at Gwen for several heartbeats. He screamed and bolted into Merlin’s room, slamming the door behind him.

“That went well,” Gwaine commented.

Chapter Text

“How long has he been in there?” Gwaine asked.

Merlin didn’t lift his head from the table. “Hours.”

He’d tried to peek in on Arthur a couple times, but Arthur had somehow managed to barricade the door with Merlin’s wardrobe and screamed at Merlin anytime he tried to open the door.

“Here it is,” Gaius exclaimed. “The spell you heard. A spell for de-aging. It should wear off in three weeks.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Merlin asked.

“There’s a fairly simple spell that can change him to normal,” Gaius said.

“Sorcery is illegal,” Gwaine said.

“Yes, it is,” Gaius mused. “But if it’s that or Arthur stays six forever, then we may have no choice.”

“Who do we know that can do magic that we could even trust?” Gwaine asked. “All the sorcerers I’ve known are dirty rotten scoundrels, just like most nobles. Power tends to ruin people.”

“Well, most power does tend to corrupt, but I know an old sorcerer we can convince to help us if the need arises,” Gaius said.

“No,” Merlin said. He would not become Dragoon again. He would rather die. He’d fix Arthur as himself if that was what it came down to. He hated being eighty years old.

“Now, Merlin, we may have no choice,” Gaius said.

“No!”

“Merlin…” Gaius warned.

“I hate it. You can’t make me!” Merlin said.

Gwaine patted Merlin’s shoulder. “Hopefully it’ll never come to using magic. Bye, Arthur!”

“Bye, Gwaine!” Arthur called.

Merlin glared at his slammed door. This was all Arthur’s fault. Why couldn’t Merlin’s life be normal for once? Why did Arthur always have to get in trouble?

It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and Arthur still hadn’t let anyone into the room. Merlin was growing increasingly fed up. He wanted to go to sleep. He knocked on the door. “Arthur, please, let me in. This is my room now. I live here. You can stay too, but I need to go to bed.”

“No!” Arthur said. He sounded dangerously close to tears.

“Arthur, I won’t hurt you,” Merlin said. “I’m just tired and I want to sleep.”

“I know!” Arthur cried.

“Then what’s wrong?” Merlin asked.

Arthur sniffled. “Nothing.”

“Can you push the wardrobe out of the way, and we can talk about it face to face?” Merlin asked.

“Why?” Arthur demanded.

Merlin gritted his teeth and sighed. He turned to Gaius, who was still poring over his books. “What are you doing?”

“Looking over succession laws,” Gaius said. “We need to find some way to keep Agravaine from taking over the country while Arthur’s still six.”

“I think six-year-old Arthur needs you a little more right now,” Merlin said.

“No, I don’t!” Arthur shouted.

“I suppose you’re right.” Gaius got to his feet and walked over to the door. “Arthur, I need you to push the wardrobe away from the door and let us in.”

“No.”

“Do it now before I count to three,” Gaius said. “One…two…”

The scraping of the wardrobe being moved reverberated through the door. Merlin relaxed. Finally, he would get his room back.

The door opened. Arthur had his arms crossed and he was scowling. “You have a magic book under your floorboards.”

Merlin jumped. “What? No, I… I don’t… how did you…”

“It has funky spells in it that don’t do anything when I say them. Oh, and there’s a staff too and I put a scorch mark on the wall with it, but you deserve it for not telling me you had magic stuff,” Arthur said.

“How did…that’s not…how did you even get the staff to work?” Merlin stammered. “How did you find it?”

“’Cause I wanted to show you what cupboards are for,” Arthur said.

“What are you going to do about the magic?” Merlin asked dumbly. As if begging for the judgement of tiny Arthur was the same as the judgement of big Arthur.

Arthur’s chin trembled. “I wanna go to bed.” He dove forward and wrapped his arms around Gaius. “I want Sir Bear.”

“There, there, now.” Gaius patted Arthur’s head. “Merlin will find Sir Bear for you.”

“What?”

“To make up for the fact that he lied about his magic stuff,” Gaius said.

“But I don’t—” Merlin started.

Gaius grabbed Merlin’s shoulder and drew him away. “Merlin. If we have any luck, Arthur won’t remember any of this when he becomes old again.”

“I doubt that. I remember everything when I alter my age,” Merlin said.

“Well, even if he does, perhaps he’ll be more open to it all now that he’s younger. Regardless, there’s nothing we can do about it now. The fact alone that he’s asking for bed instead of answers is a marvel,” Gaius said.

Merlin sighed. Gaius was right. “Who’s Sir Bear?”

“He’s a stuffed bear Arthur used to love. He couldn’t sleep without it. Uther wanted to force him to grow up and tried to throw it on the fire, but I saved Sir Bear from the pyre. Arthur eventually didn’t need Sir Bear anymore, so we hid him in the vaults. I need you to go to Arthur’s chambers, get his keys, and retrieve Sir Bear from the vaults for him.”

“The vaults,” Merlin said.

“Yes,” Gaius said.

“In the middle of the night.”

Gaius nodded.

“For a stuffed bear.”

“Better get going,” Gaius said.

Merlin wilted. “Can’t he sleep without the bear?”

Gaius shook his head. “He’ll have terrible nightmares.”

Merlin sighed. “Fine. I’ll go get Sir Bear for Arthur.”

Gaius patted his shoulder. “Good boy.”

Merlin clutched Arthur’s keys tightly. If nothing else, he could use this against Arthur when he was normal again. If he even wanted to talk to him afterwards.

Merlin stopped in the middle of the corridor and hauled open the door that led down into the vaults.

“Merlin!” Agravaine exclaimed. “What are you doing getting into the vaults?”

Merlin jumped and resisted the urge to swear. Leech. If he cared about Arthur so much, why was he only sticking around now that Uther was catatonic? “I’m getting something for Arthur.”

“I thought Arthur hadn’t returned to Camelot,” Agravaine said.

“He hasn’t. It’s complicated,” Merlin said.

Agravaine grabbed his arms. “I’m afraid I can’t allow you to do this without confirmation.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have the authorization to stop me,” Merlin snapped. “I’m on direct orders from the regent to retrieve something from the vaults. I am authorized to be there. You are not. Now let go of me or I’ll make you explain to Arthur why his mission failed and he almost died.”

Agravaine let go of his arm, frowning. “I will be bringing this up with the prince.”

“Feel free.” Merlin stalked down the staircase, slamming the door behind him.

The staircase was fairly well lit. He had no trouble making his way down the stairs, no matter how tired he was. He heaved a sigh as he drew into the vaults and into view of the guards in front of the door.

They drew themselves up. “Merlin,” one of them said. “What are you doing here?”

“I need something for Arthur,” Merlin said.

“All right. Don’t take too long.” They stood away from the door.

Merlin stepped forward and fumbled with the keys for a while before finding the right key. The door swung open with a creak.

Merlin stepped into the vaults and over to the nearest shelf. This might take a while.

The crystal of Neahtid sat innocuously on the shelf, but Merlin gave it a wide berth regardless. There were so many magic books he wanted to flip through, but he couldn’t with the guards watching. There were quite a few artifacts that oozed menace, and many he just couldn’t make sense of.

Merlin’s leg bumped a container that swayed and fell. Muffled shouting filled the air. Merlin hurriedly righted the goblin’s prison and paused.

A large trunk sat behind the goblin’s prison, the lid barely cracked open. A small, soft bear foot stuck out of the lid.

Merlin darted forward and heaved the lid open. On top of a pile of toys and old clothes, a stuffed bear lay, one missing eye causing it to wink up at him. He snatched it up. It didn’t feel magical at all. It had to be Sir Bear. He sorted through the clothes and grabbed a large bundle of ones that looked like they would fit Arthur.

Part of him wanted to search through the entire trunk, but most of him just wanted to go to bed. He tucked the clothes under his arm and made his way out of the vaults.

“Is that some sort of evil bear?” one of the guards asked.

“No,” Merlin laughed. “It’s some of Arthur’s old things. He suggested I get it for my brother.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” the guard said.

“Neither did I!” Merlin laughed with him, then headed up the stairs. He flung the door open.

“Oof.” Agravaine stood there on the other side of the door, holding his nose.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “What are you doing there?” He skirted around Agravaine into the open hall.

“Waiting to see if you were up to any nefarious deeds,” Agravaine said. “Is that a stuffed bear?”

“Your observation skills are without measure, my lord,” Merlin said.

“This is your important mission? Stealing the prince’s old things?”

Merlin gritted his teeth. He couldn’t wait for the day when Agravaine left. “I’m not stealing. I have Arthur’s permission to take these things for my brother Tom.”

“How could you have gotten Arthur’s permission when he’s out of town?” Agravaine asked.

“He’s not out of town,” Merlin said.

“I find that odd,” Agravaine said. “I was told he did not return with the knights.”

Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Maybe he told us to say that so he didn’t have to speak to you. Good night, Agravaine.” He stalked down the corridor, bear in hand.

Merlin returned to find Gaius and Arthur sitting next to each other on the steps to Merlin’s room, Arthur’s head pillowed on Gaius’s arm and his eyes almost closed. He smiled and held the bear out to Arthur. “I have Sir Bear.”

Arthur sat up hurriedly. He snatched Sir Bear and clutched him to his chest. His eyes drooped again and he yawned.

Merlin sorted through the clothes he had grabbed and pulled out a nightshirt. “Want me to get you ready for bed?”

Arthur nodded.

Gaius helped Arthur to his feet. Merlin deposited the rest of the clothes on a nearby table and helped Arthur charge, which was difficult as Arthur was very reluctant to let go of Sir Bear. As soon as he was charged, he turned into Merlin’s bedroom and dove onto Merlin’s bed.

Merlin’s mouth flattened. Arthur was curled up in his bed, Sir Bear wrapped in his arms. The room was far cleaner than Merlin had left it, but the floorboards above his hiding place had been moved, the magic book and the staff lying on the floor next to it. Like Arthur had said, there was a scorch mark on the wall. The wardrobe was askew, one of the doors hanging open.

Gaius stood at Merlin’s shoulder. “I guess you’ve got a sleeping buddy.”

“I guess so,” Merlin said. “I have been telling everyone he’s my brother, so I probably deserve it.” He was too tired to fight Arthur on this. “Good night, Gaius.”

“Good night, Merlin. Sleep well. You’ve done a good job today.”

Merlin smiled. He closed the door and changed into his night clothes, then wedged himself into bed next to Arthur. Despite the uncomfortable position he was forced into, he drifted off almost immediately.

Chapter Text

“All right, boys, time to get up,” Gaius said.

Merlin groaned. “Five more minutes.”

“You’ve slept till almost noon already,” Gaius said.

Almost noon? He was that late to Arthur? He was dead, so dead. He’d be mucking out stables until his children had children. He bolted upright. “I’m late.”

“Relax,” Gaius said. “It’s fine.” He pointed next to Merlin.

Tiny Arthur was fast asleep, his cheeks flushed and his blond hair sticking up all about. Sir Bear was clutched in one arm, and the other was flung above his head.

Merlin relaxed and smiled. Arthur was actually kind of cute when he was little, though he’d rather die before he admitted it. He shook him. “Arthur, it’s time to get up.”

Arthur groaned and screwed up his face. “I don’t want to get up, Nanny.”

“Food,” Merlin said. “If you get up, you can have some.”

Arthur opened his eyes. “Really?” His eyes landed on Merlin and his excitement drained. He sat up and crossed his arms.

“What’s wrong?” Merlin asked.

“You have magic,” Arthur said.

Merlin scratched his head. “Yeah, a bit. I was born with it.”

Arthur pouted. “Are you evil?”

“No,” Merlin said, a bit taken aback by the question.

“What do you do with your magic then?” Arthur asked.

“Mostly protect you. Save Camelot. Occasionally I have a bit fun creating flowers and butterflies,” Merlin said.

“That’s girl stuff!” Arthur exclaimed.

Merlin sighed. Something never changed.

“Do I know about the magic?” Arthur asked.

“You mean older you?” Merlin asked.

Arthur nodded.

“No.”

Arthur drooped, drawing his eyebrows together. “If we’re best friends, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to have to choose between me and your father,” Merlin said. “Also, I’ve done a few things I’m not too proud of because of my magic, and I’m rather ashamed to tell you.”

“What?”

“That’ll have to wait until you’re older.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Arthur said. “I wouldn’t want you to have to choose between me and your father either.” He pointed to the staff. “What’s that?”

“That’s the staff of a Sidhe, a fae that tried to sacrifice you so his daughter could return to live in Avalon, the land of the fae,” Merlin said. “I killed him and took his staff.”

Arthur’s mouth dropped open. “Wow. You really did that for me?”

Merlin nodded. “You’re my best friend.”

“And magic isn’t always evil?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded. “There is no evil in magic, only in the hearts of men.”

“That’s what I thought,” Arthur said. “I guess I forgive you for lying to me.” He hopped off the bed and scooped up the staff. “What can you do with this thing?”

“Um, Arthur?” Merlin said. “Maybe you should put that—”

The staff blasted into the wall, burning a scorch mark into it. Arthur beamed. “Cool!” He tossed the staff into the air and caught it, a move he did a lot with his swords. “What else can this do?”

Gaius stepped into the room, two plates of food in his hands. “What on earth is going on in here?”

Arthur held up the staff, but Merlin beat him to speaking. “Blasting holes in the wall.”

Arthur protested. “I am not! There aren’t any holes in the wall, only scorch marks.”

“How on earth are you using that?” Gaius asked. “You don’t have magic as I am aware.”

“I don’t know,” Arthur said. “But it’s cool!”

Gaius looked vaguely unsettled. Merlin frowned. He had thought the staff was just that powerful, but maybe it wasn’t. His stomach churned. Surely…surely not.

“Arthur, why don’t you put the staff down for now and come eat breakfast,” Gaius said.

Arthur heaved a dramatic sigh and placed the staff on the floor. “Okay.”

Gaius placed one plate in front of Merlin and the other plate on the covers near the end of the bed.

Arthur scrambled up on the bed and sat cross-legged in front of the plate. “There’s no sausages.”

“Arthur,” Merlin said. “Tell Gaius thank you.”

Arthur scowled. “Thank you, Gaius.”

“You’re very welcome. Now why don’t you boys eat in here? I need to do some research,” Gaius said.

“Okay,” Arthur said. He dug into the plates, eating like a voracious wolf.

“You eat that fast, you’ll get hiccups,” Merlin said.

“But I’m starving!” Arthur exclaimed. “I haven’t eaten in ages.”

Merlin winced. Arthur had missed lunch and dinner yesterday, had a barely substantial breakfast that day, and slept through breakfast today. He was a growing boy that needed all the food he could get. “Sorry.”

“’s all right,” Arthur said. “It’s nothing compared to lying me about magic.”

Merlin bit back a sigh. So this was where they were now, Arthur constantly holding his lies over his head. “You know, I did tell you before. I told the entire court. It’s not my fault you didn’t believe me.”

Arthur’s mouth dropped open, his hands freezing on the way to his mouth. “You told the entire court you have magic? Why?”

“Well…” For some reason, Merlin felt slightly embarrassed. “There was a plague going through Camelot and Gwen’s father got sick, so I cured him, even though Gaius said it was too dangerous. Gwen was arrested for practicing magic, so I told the court it was me. I didn’t want her to be punished for my crime. But you told the court I only said that because I was in love with Gwen.”

“And it’s a good thing, too! Father doesn’t let people go, he just arrests more people. All you’d do is get yourself killed. Why would you confess your magic to the court of a kingdom where magic’s illegal? Do you want to die or are you just an idiotic buffoon with no sense of his own safety?”

Merlin hadn’t received a big brother you’re-an-idiot lecture from Arthur in a while, and it was odd to receive it from tiny Arthur. Of course at six he’d already perfected words such as idiotic and buffoon. “I had to save Gwen.”

“By being an idiot?” Arthur exclaimed. He crossed his arms.

“Just eat your breakfast.”

“Merlin?” Gaius stood at the door to his bedroom. “Come here.”

Merlin placed his almost empty plate on the bed and slid off. He walked with him out to a table with Gaius. One table was open.

Gaius pointed to a passage. “Read that.”

Merlin bent over the book. Creating life via magic is a very tricky process and has a steep price. To create a life, a life must be taken. There is also an interesting side effect with children born through magic: they are almost certain to possess magic themselves. Even if the child does not possess the ability to perform magic on his own, he can channel his magic with the help of an enchanted object, such as a necklace, sword, or staff.

“Oh no,” Merlin breathed. This meant the one secret he planned on taking to his grave, the lie he never wanted to confess, had to come out. Arthur had to be told Uther using magic to create him was true. He had to be told he had the ability to perform magic. “Arthur’s going to be livid.”

“You’re not going to tell him, are you?” Gaius exclaimed. “Merlin, I think that would be a very bad idea.”

“I can’t keep this from him, Gaius. He deserves to know. If we let him possibly find out on his own, he’ll never forgive us or himself. I can’t lie to him, not about this.”

“Merlin, you cannot tell that young boy his father is responsible for his mother’s death and he has the ability to perform magic. He won’t be able to handle it,” Gaius said.

“Not right now, but when he’s older—”

“What do you mean, my father is responsible for my mother’s death?” Arthur exclaimed.

Merlin cringed. “Arthur, it’s…it’s complicated.”

“How? Tell me what he did!” Arthur demanded.

Merlin knelt in front of Arthur. “It’s not a pretty story. Are you sure you want to hear it now?”

“Tell me!”

Merlin lifted Arthur up and sat him on the table, then sat beside him. “I only found this out about a year and a half ago. A knight rode in and challenged you, and after she won—”

“She?” Arthur exclaimed in dismay.

“She was a very excellent swordsman,” Merlin said. “You did have an opportunity to win, but you were too honorable to take it. She promised to spare your life if you did one thing for her, and you promised. She tested your courage, and then offered you the chance to speak to your mother through magic.”

Arthur drew in a sharp breath. “That’s possible?”

“Only at certain times and locations and with the most powerful of sorcerers,” Gaius said.

Arthur’s shoulders drooped. “Oh.”

“Well, your mother revealed that…” Merlin glanced at Gaius.

“I promised Uther I would not say,” Gaius said. “Besides, what can it do now but bring up hurt?”

Merlin scowled. “Gaius, he deserves to know.”

Arthur crossed his arms. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll…I’ll throw you in the dungeon!”

“And I won’t rescue you,” Merlin said.

“I don’t think I can—” Gaius started.

Arthur’s bottom lip trembled, and his eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, I suppose, just this once,” Gaius said. “You have to understand, Arthur, your father loved your mother so much. He would have died for her. He never would have knowingly put her life at risk. But he was desperate for an heir, and Ygraine was barren. So he turned to magic to get an heir. That kind of magic has a steep price, a life for a life. He knew this, but he didn’t think your mother would be the one taken. I’m sure he thought the price would be a criminal already condemned to death or someone he didn’t know.”

“Or maybe even himself,” Merlin said. “But these things never work out the way you want. You can offer yourself, but they’ll just take your family instead.” Bitterness crept into his voice.

Arthur frowned up at him.

“I…tried it once.” For some reason, Merlin felt compelled to explain himself. “You were bitten by a monster and were certain to die. I offered my life to save yours, but my mother was dying instead. I was going to try and offer myself again, but Gaius beat me to it. I eventually wound up fighting with an evil sorceress that spread a plague through Camelot and killed her, and everyone else got to live. This kind of magic is an unpredictable mess.”

“That’s no excuse!” Arthur shouted, hands curled into fists. “My father’s the one that chose to sacrifice someone to create me. He chose to do that, knowing the price, and he kills others who use magic even though he did the same!”

“He blamed magic for your mother’s death,” Gaius said.

“He’s the reason! He’s the one to blame!” Arthur said. “He deserves to be punished for all the people he’s taken just to make himself feel better!”

“You already tried that,” Merlin said. “You fought your father and were about to drive your sword through his chest, but I stopped you. I knew you’d never forgive yourself if you killed him, so I talked you down. But because I was in front of Uther, I had to do that by lying. I told you the sorceress that revealed this was lying when she wasn’t, but she was trying to get you to kill your father so that she could take the kingdom. You can’t give into her.”

“I don’t care!” Arthur screamed. “My father should pay for what he’s done!” He slid off the table and charged towards the door out.

Merlin caught his arms and lifted him up.

Arthur screamed and kicked his legs in the air. “Let me go!”

“Gaius, can you get the magic stuff out of the room?” Merlin asked.

“Gladly.” Gaius snatched the magic book and staff up from Merlin’s floor and left the room.

“He doesn’t deserve to live!” Arthur shouted.

“No, he doesn’t, but killing him would still be murder,” Merlin said. “I’ve had multiple opportunities to let assassins take their revenge on him, but I’ve saved his life. I have more reason than most to want him dead, but I spared him, because killing him or letting others murder him would be wrong. When you calm down, you’ll feel the same.” He tossed Arthur onto his bed, ran out, and bolted the door.

Arthur thumped against the door.

Merlin ignored him. He dusted off his hands. “If only I’d been able to do that the first time.”

“Merlin,” Gaius scolded.

“He’ll calm down and see reason eventually,” Merlin said. “Then when he does, we can tell him about the magic. Besides, how do you think Agravaine would react to a six-year-old trying to kill the king?”

Chapter Text

With nothing much to do, Merlin wanted to rest, but Gaius sent him scurrying all around the town delivering medicines, pounding herbs in a mortar until his arms were sore, and memorizing the spell to turn Arthur back until he couldn’t think straight. Finally, Merlin collapsed on a bench and sat his head down on the table. “You’re worse than Arthur.”

Gaius chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Hard work is good for the soul. Now, why don’t you take Arthur his dinner?”

Merlin groaned. Gaius set two full plates in front of him. Merlin sighed and grabbed the plates. Gaius opened the door for him and he walked in.

Arthur was curled on Merlin’s bed, Sir Bear in his arms. Tear tracks stained his cheeks as he stared off into space.

Merlin’s heart wrenched. He set the plates on a bedside table and sat down next to Arthur. He put a hand on his arm. “Arthur.”

“I wish you had told me,” Arthur said. “Older me. If not in front of my father, then later. That was a shoddy thing for a friend to do.”

“I know,” Merlin said. “That’s always been one of my biggest regrets.” He had had the opportunity to open Arthur’s eyes to magic and he had blown it. Not to mention he had lied to him about his mother.

“But you’re right,” Arthur said. “If I kill my father, I’m just as bad as he is. And I am regent now, so it’s not like he’d even know what he’s being punished for.”

“You know, that’s actually something I learned from you,” Merlin said. “You have a good heart, Arthur.”

Arthur brightened a bit. “Really?”

“Really.” Merlin rubbed his arm, then picked up a plate. “Hungry?”

Arthur nodded and sat up.

Merlin handed him the plate, then picked up his own plate. “There’s actually a bit more that we just found out about you being born from magic. That’s why you heard us talking about it.”

Arthur poked at his food. “Is it more bad news?”

Merlin shrugged. “It depends on how you look at it. Because you were born from magic, you have the ability…” He pulled himself together. It was so strange to connect those words with Arthur. “You have the ability to perform magic. I don’t think you can do it on your own, but with something to channel it, such as that staff, you can do magic. It’s why you’re able to blast holes in the wall.”

“I’m not blasting holes in the wall!” Arthur cried.

Merlin struggled to restrain his smile.

“I’m not!” Arthur protested. He drooped and poked at his food some more. “Is that why my father hates me so much? ‘Cause I have magic?”

“Your father doesn’t hate you,” Merlin said. “It may seem like that now, but I’ve seen him when he’s almost lost you. You’re the light of his life. He would give his life for you. And coming from me, praise for Uther is a big deal.”

Arthur shrugged. “If he loves me, why is he so mean?”

“I think from what you remember of him, he just hasn’t realized he loves you yet, so he’s not treating you right. It’ll come,” Merlin said.

“Maybe.” Arthur dug into his food, then spoke with his mouth full. “I want to do stuff with magic!”

Merlin froze, terrible visions of a young Arthur creating havoc and getting himself arrested. “Why don’t we wait until tomorrow?”

“I don’t want to,” Arthur said.

“If you wait to do magic until tomorrow, I’ll…” Merlin cast about for some way to bribe or threaten Arthur. “Tell you about the Great Dragon.”

Arthur’s mouth dropped open. “A dragon?”

Merlin nodded. “Dragon today, magic tomorrow?”

“Okay!” Arthur dug into his dinner. “Tell me about dragons.”

Gaius peeked in on his boys. Merlin and Arthur sat on the bed facing each other, empty plates forgotten. Merlin spread his arms, a dragon made of sparks following them and swooping down on knights made of sparks. He animatedly told the tale of Arthur and Merlin fighting Kilgarrah. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, young Arthur exclaimed at all the right parts.

Gaius chuckled. While not exactly how he’d pictured it, he’d dreamed of this sight for ages. His boys talking freely about magic and simply enjoying each other’s company. No destinies or responsibilities weighing them down. Just two friends relaxing and enjoying each other for who they were.

He supposed he could do the dishes tonight. Let the boys have their fun.

“Arthur? Merlin?” Elyan called. “Are you awake?”

Merlin groaned and forced himself awake.

“Just go ahead and wake them up,” Gaius said. “They’ve been sleeping too long.”

A fuzzy bear face stared into Merlin’s face. Merlin jumped up.

Arthur was sprawled on the bed, Sir Bear on the pillow next to him.

Merlin stared at him. Should he wake him up? That was his job, after all.

No, not when Arthur was six. Besides, who knew who was outside the room?

Merlin wrenched his door open and stumbled down the stairs. “Morning,” he mumbled.

“Enjoying your days off?” Gwaine asked.

Merlin snorted. Days off? Tiny Arthur was even more high maintenance than regular Arthur.

Lancelot, Elyan, Percival, and Gwaine stood in the room. “I suppose you want to see Arthur?” Merlin asked.

“Well, you too, but we would like to see Arthur,” Elyan said.

“He didn’t exactly have a childhood, so we’d like to make that up a bit,” Lancelot said.

Merlin smiled. Now this he could get behind. But what were they going to do about Agravaine? “Where’s Leon?”

“Delaying Agravaine from taking charge,” Lancelot said.

Merlin relaxed. Leon was good with the court but firm when he needed to be. He could handle Agravaine. “All right then.” He turned and hollered. “Arthur!”

After a minute or so, Arthur stumbled out of Merlin’s room hugging Sir Bear and rubbing his eyes, his hair sticking up everywhere.

“Good morning, Arthur,” Percival said.

“Morning.” Arthur stumbled over to an empty table and climbed onto the bench. “What are you here for?”

“We’re here to have fun.” Gwaine ruffled Arthur’s hair.

“But I’m hungry!” Arthur exclaimed.

“Come on, I’ll help you get dressed, and then we can stop by the kitchens for breakfast,” Merlin said.

“But the cook’s scary!” Arthur said.

The knights all laughed.

“That she is, Arthur,” Gwaine said. “But I have a lot of experience dealing with the big bad scary cook. I can face her for you.”

Arthur frowned but nodded. “Okay.” He hopped off the bench and ran up to Merlin, then tugged on his shirt.

Merlin bent over and whispered, “What is it, Arthur?”

“Can we practice magic after we play with the knights?” Arthur whispered in his ear.

“Of course,” Merlin said. “Now come on, I’ll help you get dressed.”

“Now here’s someone who appreciates my cooking!” the cook said proudly.

Arthur wriggled in his seat and smiled. Merlin had expected a knockdown drag out fight with the cook to get food for his “brother Tom,” but the cook had taken one look at Arthur and started dishing up breakfast for him on account of his “uncanny resemblance to Prince Arthur.” His big blue eyes, pouting lip, and refusal to let go of Sir Bear couldn’t have hurt either. Some people had all the luck.

“Can I get a little something?” Gwaine reached out for an uncooked dumpling.

The cook smacked his hand with a wooden spoon. “Keep your grubby hands off my dumplings.”

“Can I have a dumpling?” Arthur asked.

“Of course, love, they’ll be ready in a minute,” the cook said. “Get some water boiling, we need to cook these dumplings!” she barked.

Arthur smiled.

Merlin scowled. How come Arthur, in any form, was the cook’s one soft spot?

Arthur had been wary of the knights’ games at first, but slowly Merlin, Lancelot, and Elyan softened him up, and now, they were all playing a variant form of tag where they all chased Arthur around.

Arthur’s laughter pealed through the training field, more carefree than Merlin had ever heard him before. He ducked under Lancelot’s swiping arm and dove through Gwaine’s legs.

Straight into Merlin’s arms. Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur, who shrieked.

“Surrender, Arthur!” Merlin demanded.

“No!” Arthur shouted.

Merlin tickled Arthur. Arthur shrieked with laughter and wriggled so much Merlin could barely keep ahold of him.

Merlin’s feet slipped from under him. He kept his arms firm around Arthur and tickled him some more. “Give up?”

“Never!” Arthur cried, his words punctuated by giggles. “I’m the...prince regent of Camelot, and... I’ll...never surrender!”

“What do you mean, he’s the prince regent of Camelot?” Agravaine said. “Surely that can’t be...Arthur Pendragon?”

Merlin froze. No. No, no, no, no, no...

Agravaine stood on be edge of the training field, a scowling Leon running to catch up with him. 

Arthur scrambled up and crossed his arms. “Yeah, that’s me. I’ve been enchanted to be younger. Who are you?”

“You can’t be serious.” Agravaine turned to Leon. “How long were you planning on keeping this from me? Don’t you think I deserve to know that the regent is unfit to rule?”

Merlin stood up. “It’s only three weeks. Gaius examined him and he should be back to normal by the end of the month.”

“That’s hardly a comfort, is it?” Agravaine asked. “Camelot needs a ruler now, not in three weeks. What if Morgana attacks? I must bring this to the council.”

“But…” Merlin started.

“It’s shameful that all of you kept this a secret from everyone,” Agravaine said. “Bordering on treason, in fact. You should be careful I don’t bring that up to the council as well.”

“You didn’t answer my question!” Arthur said.

Agravaine spun around and stalked back towards the castle. Arthur started after him, but Merlin caught him. “Don’t. Let Leon handle this.”

Leon ran after Agravaine. “Lord Agravaine!”

“What now?” Elyan said.

“I want to play some more tag,” Arthur said.

Chapter Text

Merlin propped his head up on his hand and sighed. Arthur was determined, but had very little stamina, and so had been pretty easy to get to bed without magic practice. Now, they were all waiting around after dinner for Leon to come back and update them on the situation.

“Look at you all, sitting around here moping,” Gaius scolded. “One would think you couldn’t survive without Arthur.”

“He’s the one that makes the plans,” Gwaine said.

“He always knows what to do,” Elyan said.

“And even if he doesn’t, he pretends he does,” Percival said.

Merlin just sighed again. His solution to political problems was to suggest violence or immediate exposure and have Arthur or Gaius shoot him down until he either came up with a wild magical solution that didn’t solve the ultimate problem or helped Arthur refine his own plan. The most political instincts he had had been honed by years of being around Arthur and the constant attempts on his life.

“Well, you can either stop moping around and start planning or help me prepare some potions,” Gaius said.

“The best idea I can think of is to knock Agravaine out and keep him unconscious until Arthur’s back,” Merlin said.

“Merlin!” Gaius exclaimed.

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Gwaine said.

“Use magic to turn Agravaine into a toad?” Merlin suggested. 

“Magic is illegal,” Elyan said. 

“Besides, I don’t think Arthur would be particularly pleased if we turned his uncle into a toad,” Percival said. 

“We could get Agravaine really drunk and then keep him drunk until Arthur re-ages,” Gwaine said. 

“Of course you would suggest something to do with alcohol,” Elyan said. 

“You’re more likely to give him alcohol poisoning than anything else with that plan,” Gaius said. 

“Maybe Agravaine won’t be that bad,” Lancelot said. 

“If you think that, you really are dense, mate,” Gwaine said. 

The door opened and Leon walked in. He scrubbed a hand over his face and sat down at the table with a sigh. “The Council agrees with Lord Agravaine that there must be a temporary ruler until Arthur comes of age again. I tried to suggest Gwen, but Agravaine shot it down because she’s a servant. They’re going to vote on it tomorrow, but all indications are that Agravaine will get the position due to his kinship with Arthur.”

The knights erupted into exclamations and argument. Merlin joined in at first, but after a bit, he pulled out the sigil Arthur gave him and turned it over and over in his hands. Usually this was the moment when someone came up with a brilliant solution to save the day, but he had nothing and the knights were quickly delving into inanity. They were all going to let Arthur down. 

“Merlin!” Gaius exclaimed. “Where did you get that?”

“Arthur gave it to me a couple of weeks ago,” Merlin said. “Why?”

Gaius picked up the sigil. “Do you know what this means?”

“...that Arthur is more sentimental than he pretends to be?” Merlin asked. What was the big deal? It was a gesture of friendship, nothing more. 

“It means that Arthur has adopted you,” Gaius said. 

Merlin almost choked. “What?”

Leon froze. “That’s what he gave you that night at the fire?”

Merlin nodded. “Yeah, why. What did you think it was?”

“Just a token of friendship because he was planning on sacrificing himself to the Veil,” Leon said. 

“Yeah,” Elyan said. “I mean, none of us could hear what you were talking about, but that’s what I assumed. I never thought he’d actually adopt you.”

“He didn’t adopt me!” Merlin protested. “It’s just because we’ve talked about how he never knew his mother and I never knew my father.” Though as of last night, Merlin had told Arthur about Balinor. Maybe it was cowardly of him, but it was easier to spill his secrets to baby Arthur than to normal Arthur. 

“That may be all that motivated him, but the legality of the gesture is indisputable. Arthur giving you his family’s sigil, especially at a time when he thought he was about to die, makes you his heir. You’re part of the royal family now,” Gaius said. 

Merlin’s mouth dropped open. This had to be a joke, right? An elaborate joke Gaius was playing on him? “I... I’m not royalty. I’m just a servant.”

“Not anymore you’re not,” Gaius said. 

“Guess that solves our Agravaine problem,” Gwaine said. 

“You look more than presentable,” Gwen said, straightening the collar of the nice jacket she’d found Merlin to go with the rest of the nice outfit she’d scrounged up. Apparently he needed to present a good face to the council when telling them he was Arthur’s heir. “Just be firm but kind, and don’t insult the council like you would with Arthur. In fact, you should probably stay away from all jokes completely.”

Merlin sighed. “I don’t want this.”

“I understand that, but you don’t really have much of a choice, now do you? It’s you or Agravaine,” Gwen said.

Merlin groaned. Politics was Arthur’s territory, not his. His deepest venture into politics was “who’s trying to kill the Pendragons today,” which was more than enough to keep him occupied forever.  He never wanted to get deeper than that.

Gwen patted his shoulders. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Merlin sighed again. “I hope Arthur re-ages soon.”

“So do I. Now go!” Gwen turned Merlin around and lightly pushed him to the door.

Merlin obligingly trudged into the council room. The council members sat around the table, Arthur’s usual seat left empty.

“Yes, here he is now,” Geoffrey said. “Come forward, Merlin.”

“This is preposterous,” Agravaine spat. “There’s no possible way Arthur adopted a simple servant.”

“I have the witnesses to the adoption ceremony already in the room,” Geoffrey said. He gestured to the knights of the Round Table who stood behind Leon and Gaius.

“Well, young man, step forward and tell us of the adoption,” one of the other council members said.

Merlin gathered a deep breath and stepped forward. Speaking in front of a large group of people was the opposite of his forte, but he had to do it. He called up the rehearsed speech he had practiced.

“When I was—when we were traveling to heal the rift in the Veil, Arthur—well, he kept saying he would sacrifice himself to save Camelot, because it’s his kingdom and he’s the king, so it’s his responsibility. I kept trying to convince him to let me do it, but he wasn’t going for it. He said that a half-decent servant was hard to come by, then we started talking about our parents. ‘Cause his mother died when he was born and I never knew my father either. So he gave me his mother’s sigil. And I took it and put it in my bag. Then when we got to the tear he tried to sacrifice himself, but then I tried to do it too, and so did Lancelot, but a peasant that had been following us unbeknownst to us jumped in instead,” Merlin said. His speech had flown out of his mind, but he thought he had done all right.

“Well?” Geoffrey said.

“It does follow the ancient traditions,” one of the court members said. “Legally, the manservant is now Arthur’s son and heir.”

Merlin’s face burned. Couldn’t he have been adopted as Arthur’s brother or something? But no, he was apparently his stupid son. Arthur would never let him live this down.

“Is this as you saw it, Sir Leon?” another court member asked.

Sir Leon nodded. “It is exactly as Merlin described. They were arguing about who would sacrifice themselves to the tear, then Arthur gave Merlin the sigil.”

“And you are certain he was planning on sacrificing himself to the Veil?” The court member asked.

“I would stake my life on it,” Leon said.

“I was so certain that I was willing to give my life to save his,” Lancelot said. “I promised the prince’s lady that I would protect him with my life and make sure he came home.”

Elyan nodded as well. “I couldn’t exactly hear what they were saying, but I saw the exchange as well. It’s definitely as they said.”

“This is preposterous,” Agravaine said. “Surely the boy stole the sigil from Arthur’s chambers, and the knights are lying to back him up.”

“With all due respect, Lord Agravaine, you are a newcomer to this court,” Geoffrey said. “You abandoned Camelot when your sister died and now only show up when there’s a chance for you to profit. As nontraditional as it may be, I trust Prince Arthur’s judgement and his choice knights’ testimonies over you.”

“You cannot possibly make a servant the regent of Camelot,” Agravaine protested.

“And why not?” Geoffrey asked. “After all, even out Lord and Savior was born a humble peasant and spent His life serving others.”

“Hear, hear!” a courtier agreed.

“It’s unorthodox,” another courtier said. “It would be difficult to crown him king because he hasn’t performed the crown prince quest, but, as we’re in an emergency and Lord Agravaine has not fulfilled those requirements either, I see no obstacles in following Prince Arthur’s wishes.”

“I propose a vote,” a different courtier said. “All in favor of recognizing Prince Regent Arthur’s adoption of Merlin and instating him into the position of regent until Arthur is restored to his proper age shall write aye and pass the papers to the court secretary. All opposed shall write nay.”

“Well?” Gwen asked. “How did the vote go?”

Merlin leaned against the door, his vision spotting. He pressed a hand to his spinning head. “They voted yes. They accepted me as Arthur’s son and heir. I’m now the prince regent.”

Chapter Text

It was only after sorting through Arthur’s papers that Merlin realized how much he didn’t actually know about Arthur’s duties. He had thought he knew what Arthur did and how he did it. After all, Merlin helped him file his papers, sorted through the important and the unimportant ones, occasionally wrote speeches for him, and prepared him for each day as prince regent. Surely holding down the fort for a couple of weeks shouldn’t be that hard.

And it was true, Merlin was good at sorting out the important papers from the unimportant ones—most of the time. He was good at writing speeches—that half the time served only as outlines for Arthur. He was half-decent at scheduling, though half the time, Arthur had to correct him as Merlin had overestimated the political importance of one function and underestimated the political importance of another.

Merlin groaned and thumped his head down on Arthur’s desk. There was one inherent thing he lacked for this job that he didn’t think he could ever make up. Arthur had an innate understanding of Camelot, of what made the processes run and kept the people happy and healthy and loyal to him. Arthur had earned the love of his people through his hard work and sacrifice.

And Merlin? Merlin wasn’t even from Camelot. Sure, he understood nature, magic, destiny, physical health, and servantry better than Arthur, and his different perspective made him able to give Arthur good advice, but that didn’t mean Merlin would make a good king. He didn’t want to be king. Would he appreciate a higher-ranking position? Yes, he would. Did he want to be recognized for the magical work he used to save Camelot? Yes, he did. Did that translate to “I want to be the king of Camelot”? No, it freaking did not!

Gwen stepped into the room, chuckling. “You look lost, Merlin.”

“I didn’t want this! I don’t know what to do! How does Arthur do this every day?”

“He’s been trained for this role since birth,” Gwen said. “You just got it today. Give it some time.”

“I don’t want time, I want Arthur to take over,” Merlin said. He picked up a paper. “Look at this. The Camelot Poetry Festival invites the Pendragon family to make a speech inaugurating the event on Jupiter’s Day this week. Uther obviously can’t go, and Arthur is too young at the moment.”

“I guess that leaves you,” Gwen said.

Merlin struck a wide smile. “How about you, Gwen? I bet you love poetry.”

“What, because I’m a girl? Don’t you remember, I’m not a Pendragon?” Gwen pressed.

“But you will be!” Merlin protested. What did it matter that Arthur hadn’t proposed yet? He would eventually, and that was all that mattered.

Gwen blushed. “We don’t know that.”

Merlin rolled her eyes. “You have true love’s kiss with him. How could he not choose you?”

Gwen’s blush deepened. “I think we’re getting off the subject.”

Merlin sighed. “Yeah. Think you could help?”

Gwen pulled up a chair and sighed herself. “I can do my best, but I make no guarantees.”

Merlin grinned. “It’s good practice for when you become Arthur’s queen.”

“Shut up,” Gwen said. “Or I won’t help you.”

“Arthur’s rubbing off,” Merlin said.

Gwen shoved him. “Stop it. You’re as bad as Elyan.”

Merlin chuckled. “All right, all right.” As Gwen bent over the papers, he whispered, “True love’s kiss.”

Gwen kicked him under the desk.

Words swam in Merlin’s head. He stumbled down the halls. All he wanted to do was collapse in bed. It would be nice to have a bath as well, but he didn’t fancy hauling any water, so that wouldn’t be happening. He wrenched open the door to Gaius’s chambers.

“What on earth are you doing in here?” Gaius asked.

“You’re joking, right?” Merlin asked. “I live here. These are my chambers.”

“Not anymore, they’re not,” Gaius said.

“Very funny.” Merlin plopped himself down on the nearest table. “What’s for dinner?”

“Your dinner isn’t here. It’s in your chambers,” Gaius said.

“These are my chambers,” Merlin said.

Gaius stood firm, staring down at Merlin.

“Gaius?”

“You’re the prince regent now,” Gaius said. “You have far better chambers now, my boy.”

But Merlin liked his chambers. This wasn’t fair. Stupid Arthur and his stupid gestures of friendship. “What about Arthur?” Merlin asked.

Gaius sighed. “I’m afraid he’s been returned to his own chambers.”

Merlin’s heart thumped. He had to be so scared, all alone with no one to comfort him. “Alone? And you let them? He’s just a baby!”

“No, I’m not!” Arthur said indignantly. His voice was muffled.

Merlin spun. Tiny Arthur popped out of a barrel in the front of Gaius’s chambers.

“I wanna practice magic!” Arthur climbed out of the barrel and ran to Merlin’s room, emerging with the staff.

Merlin groaned and kneaded his forehead. “Arthur, not today.”

Arthur stomped his foot. “You promised!”

“It’s too late. I’m too tired.” Merlin was well aware they were just excuses, but he didn’t know the first thing about teaching magic. Especially when that magic had to be channeled through a highly explosive staff. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“That’s what you said yesterday!” Arthur protested. He stomped his foot again. “I command you to teach me magic. Right now!”

“I’m the prince regent at the moment, so I currently outrank you.” Merlin’s temples throbbed. He stood up and took hold of the staff. “Let go, Arthur.”

“No!” Arthur braced his feet on the floor and tugged. “You let go! Teach me magic!”

“No!” Merlin said. He tugged back. “Let go, Arthur!”

“Nooooo!” Arthur screamed.

They both tugged at once. The staff jolted. Magic flew out of it into Merlin’s bedroom.

They dropped the staff as one. Merlin bolted into the bedroom. His bed was on fire, and on the bed was Sir Bear, blazing away.

“Oh no,” Merlin said. He held out his hand. “Nanraebrof!”

The fire died. Merlin snatched up Sir Bear. Half his head was burned away, and the rest of the body was scorched black. His mouth went dry. Maybe Arthur wouldn’t notice.

Arthur screamed, which melted into tears. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” He bolted out of Gaius’s chambers, slamming the door behind him.

Merlin stood staring after him, unable to move, his heart pounding and his legs growing a tad shaky. “Oh, no,” he repeated.

Chapter Text

Merlin didn’t sleep much that night. Dressed in fancy new nightclothes—which they could deny it all they want, but he knew they’d stolen them from Arthur—and in large, dark chambers with a far too comfortable bed, he couldn’t stop thinking of Arthur. Why hadn’t he just given in and tried a lesson? Arthur probably couldn’t sleep now because Merlin had set his stuffed bear on fire. And he’d said he hated him. He’d forgiven him for lying about magic and stuff, but those were things incomprehensible to a six-year-old. But destroying his beloved stuffed animal? That was unforgivable.

Merlin sighed and lit a candle, then dug out the magic books he’d smuggled out of Gaius’s chambers. Maybe there was a spell to restore the bear somewhere in here.

Merlin’s head was pillowed against books. Still half-asleep, he mumbled one of the spells he’d been studying before he passed out.

He jerked up. The bear sat on the desk, fur fluffed up and both eyes gleaming.

He snatched it. The bear was restored. It worked! Arthur wouldn’t hate him forever! He ran out of his new room and down the hall, bursting into Arthur’s room without knocking.

“I fixed it! I fixed Sir Bear! Look, Arthur, I fixed it!” Merlin waved the newly restored bear above his head.

Tiny Arthur sat in the middle of the bed, swamped by the size. He sat up, rubbing both eyes with his fists.

As Merlin drew closer, he drew in a breath. Arthur’s cheeks were tear-stained and his eyes were red. Despite the early hour, he seemed to be wide awake, even though Arthur hated getting up in the morning.

Merlin’s stomach twisted. Nightmares. Gaius had said Arthur suffered from them without Sir Bear. Poor thing. And it was all Merlin’s fault for setting the bear on fire.

“Here.” Merlin held out the bear. “He’s all better.”

Sniffing, Arthur grabbed Sir Bear. His face lit up. “He’s even better than before! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He darted up and flung his arms around Merlin. “He’s so fluffy! Magic really is a good thing after all!”

Merlin smiled. “So you forgive me?”

Arthur nodded. “I forgive you. ‘Sall better now.” He pulled back and hopped on the bed. “So what are we gonna do today?”

“I have to do all your duties that you can’t do because you’re six,” Merlin said. Huzzah. Hip hip. He was going to have such a fun day.

“Can I help?” Arthur asked. “Father never lets me help, but I’m gonna be king one day, so I gottaknow, right?”

Merlin shrugged. Why not? Maybe some vestiges of big Arthur were in there and could help him with this mess. And if not, he could put off Pendragon duties by tickling tiny Arthur instead. “Sure. What do you think of going to a poetry festival?”

Arthur wrinkled his nose. “Poetry? Poetry is for girls!”

Word had clearly gotten around that Arthur had been de-aged. Despite the tiny prince’s disdain for poetry, he was delighted with the attention he received at the festival. One of the lady poets made him a flower crown (which he only wore because Merlin made him be polite but that he quickly warmed up to when he got lots of ladies calling him adorable) and some of the male poets (of which there were quite a few, to Arthur’s shock) called him little princeling. Arthur wasn’t sure what to think of that either until Merlin explained it was a nickname, and nicknames were fun ways people called the ones they were fond of. Arthur was delighted the more people called him princeling after that—“They all like me!”—and wouldn’t stop wriggling on his seat next to Merlin. A few of the old ladies commented that Arthur looked so much happier than he had at that age, which made Merlin want to slug Uther even more than he already did.

Unfortunately, Merlin didn’t know much about poetry, and Percival’s unexpected pointers didn’t help. And Merlin wasn’t good at speeches either. So he just tugged Arthur with him to the wooden stage with his stuffed bear and his flower crown and distracted the crowd from Merlin’s short speech with Arthur’s cuteness.

All the excitement of the attention, though, couldn’t keep Arthur’s attention forever. Before long, he was bouncing in his seat. “How much longer do we have to stay here?” he whined.

“Just a bit longer,” Merlin said. “Gwen said the earliest we can leave without causing scandal is in about an hour.”

“A whole hour?” Arthur whined. “But that’s forever from now! Can’t we go home and get something to eat?”

“You’ve had plenty to eat,” Merlin said. The merchants had set up booths around the crowds selling sweets. Unable to resist Arthur’s big blue eyes, Merlin had bought far too many for him, leaving the young prince with sticky hands and a sticky face.

“But I want moore,” Arthur whined, arching his back and throwing his head backwards so he could gaze at the crowd upside down. “I’m hungry.”

“Enough,” Merlin said. “Whining and complaining never got anyone a royal commendation.” Goodness gracious, he was turning into his mother.

Arthur pouted and hugged Sir Bear with both arms.

The current declaiming poet, a gangly young lad whose face was scarred with acne, stepped down, allowing an older plump lady with clothes slightly better than the average peasant to take his place.

The lady cleared her throat and held a paper to her eyes. “I shall be performing my new poem, ‘The Young Boy and the—’ ”

Arthur gasped audibly. “Nanny!” he cried. He jumped off his chair and bolted to the stage. “Nanny, Nanny, Nanny!”

The lady poet pulled her paper down and gasped. “Prince Arthur? Young Prince Arthur? You really have been de-aged!” She flung her arms open. “Oh, come here, you.”

Arthur flung himself into her arms. He wrapped his arms around her neck and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I missed you! I’m not really six so I’m not a page anymore, and Father’s mind’s sick, so he can’t tell me to not love you anymore!” He beamed wider than Merlin had ever seen him smile before.

“Ooh, you’re cuter than a button, little Arthur.” The lady poet—Arthur’s old nanny—pinched his cheek. “I missed you too, little bug.”

“Look, Sir Bear’s got his eye back!” Arthur brandished his bear in his nanny’s face.

“Oh, wow.” Nanny felt the bear’s face. “I bet that made you happy. You cried like nobody’s business when it got lost in the river.”

“I didn’t cry!” Arthur protested stoutly. “I never cry!”

“Now, sire, what have I told you about lying?” Nanny asked.

Arthur mumbled something Merlin couldn’t hear from his frozen spot in the seat of honor.

“How’s that?” Nanny said.

“’Snot becoming of a prince to lie,” Arthur said.

“That’s better.” Nanny kissed his cheek. “Why don’t you run along to Merlin now, and I’ll see you after I read my poem.”

“Okay!” Arthur slid down and ran back to Merlin. “That was my nanny!” he whispered.

“I know!” Merlin’s heart wrenched. The poor little guy was so happy. The nanny was probably the closest thing to a mother he’d known, and Uther had told him not to love her anymore. Did grown Arthur even know his old nanny still lived in town?

Arthur climbed onto Merlin’s lap and leaned back. “I guess we can stay for a little longer.”

Merlin’s cheeks warmed. The innocent gesture of trust warmed his heart more than he could say. He wrapped his arms around Arthur.

“ ‘The Young Boy and the Butterfly,’ ” Arthur’s nanny declared. “ ‘A golden-haired boy ran in the sun…’ ”

Arthur scowled as the poem continued. “She wasn’t ever s’posed to talk about that again,” he muttered.

Merlin snickered as he realized Nanny must have been inspired in her poetry by none other than Arthur Pendragon. The young boy and the butterfly, indeed. Girly, huh?

Nanny sniffed. “Not to speak ill of the king, but it just about broke my heart when he ordered me away from Arthur. He needed me, he did. Poor boy, without a mother’s love. Who was going to give him hugs and kisses without me around?” She blew her nose in her handkerchief around Arthur sleeping in her arms.

Merlin nodded. Arthur’s aversion to touch had clearly been created by Uther’s strict rules and punishments. Arthur had no trouble hugging Nanny, and big Arthur had no trouble hugging and kissing Gwen, but he didn’t want anyone to see that and didn’t like anyone else touching him beyond those “cheering” punches and whenever he knocked Merlin about or trapped him in a headlock and messed with his hair. Merlin’s chest hurt for his best friend.

He sighed and glanced around the hall. “Here, we’ll use the throne room as a short cut to Arthur’s room.” He pushed open the doors and gestured Nanny and Arthur inside.

Nanny gasped. “Oh my!”

Merlin stepped in the throne room. His face drained. Morgana stood in the middle of the throne room, Agravaine standing at her side. Two guards lay at her feet, most likely dead, their swords a few inches from their hands.

Merlin stepped in front of Nanny and Arthur, holding his arm out to keep them back. “Morgana.”

Morgana smirked. “Hello, Merlin. I heard there’s been a little accident with Arthur.”

Arthur sat up and scrubbed at his eyes, dropping Sir Bear on the floor. He caught sight of Morgana and cocked his head. “Who’re you?”

“As I said, no memory of his life before he was six,” Agravaine said.

Merlin gritted his teeth. The traitor. He knew something had bugged him about Agravaine.

“Hello, Arthur. I’m your sister, Morgana.”

Chapter Text

Previously:

“Hello, Arthur. I’m your sister, Morgana.”

“That’s not true, ‘Gana’s Gorlois’s daughter!” Arthur cried. “And she likes brushing her hair, she’d never look like you!”

Merlin smothered a laugh at Morgana’s wide eyes.

Nanny pressed Arthur’s head to her shoulders. “Arthur, now’s not the time for speaking up.”

“Why not?” Arthur asked.

“I’m here to take the throne,” Morgana said.

“But it’s not yours!” Arthur said. He wiggled out of Nanny’s arms and darted forward, holding onto Merlin’s leg. “It’s Father’s first, then mine. Even if you are ‘Gana and my sister, you still wouldn’t get to be queen ‘cause you’re a girl and boys inherit first and you wouldn’t get it at all ‘cause Father’s not married to your mother. That’s just silly. Nanny says you shouldn’t ever take something that not yours.”

“It’s rightfully mine!” Morgana screamed.

“No, it’s not!” Arthur screamed back.

Merlin laid his head on Arthur’s head. “Arthur’s right, Morgana. You have no right to the throne. Leave now and I might let you live.”

Morgana laughed and lifted her hand. Before Merlin had a chance to think of a spell, he flew back and crashed into the wall. His head banged against the stone. Spots floated in his eyes. He fell to the ground, gasping.

Arthur shrieked. He scooped up the sword of one of the guards and pointed it at Morgana.

Agravaine drew his own sword and lifted it. “With your permission, my lady.”

“Go ahead,” Morgana said. “Somehow it isn’t the same killing Arthur at this age.”

Merlin lifted his head, room swirling slightly. He’d never get to Arthur in time to defend him. Forget the nanny, Agravaine, and Morgana. There was no other way. He lifted his hand. What was that spell, any spell that would save Arthur?

Ah, yes. “Āciereth æt cerdices ealdgecynd ealddóm Arthur Pendragon!”

Arthur grew, his clothes splitting around him as his body returned to its proper age. He blocked Agravaine’s swing and leveled the sword at his chest. “Uncle.”

Morgana screamed. She raised her hand, ready to blast Arthur away.

He’d never withstand her magic. Merlin raised his hand and shouted a random spell on instinct.

Lightning blasted through the ceiling and struck Morgana several times until she exploded.

Merlin’s mouth dropped open. Oops. Just like Nimueh. He hadn’t exactly meant to kill her, especially like that, but…well…

Agravaine gasped audibly. “What have you done?” he cried.

“Surrender now and your life might be spared,” Arthur said.

Agravaine glared at Arthur. “You. Just like your father. If it wasn’t for you, Ygraine would still be alive.”

“That’s my father’s fault, not mine,” Arthur said.

Agravaine dashed forward, sword raised. Arthur met him and dispatched him in a few blows.

Merlin lay on the floor, panting. He wasn’t quite sure he could stand up without his legs giving out. It was over. Just like that, it was over. “Just so you know, I didn’t exactly intend to kill Morgana.”

Nanny let out a cry. “You…you have magic!”

Merlin cringed. Arthur had forgiven him for magic as a child, but now, as an adult, in front of his nanny?

Arthur lowered the sword. “I…he…it’s…” He glanced at Merlin. “We’re thinking about raising the ban on magic. You…won’t tell, will you?”

“She’s dead!” Nanny cried. “Morgana’s gone at last. You’re finally safe.”

Arthur glanced around, then glanced down. He flushed. “Perhaps we should discuss this some other time, Nanny?”

“Of course, sire.” Nanny curtsied and hurried out of the room.

Arthur stood stock still for a few seconds.

Merlin climbed to his feet. The room spun. He stumbled for a step, but then got his bearings. “Arthur, you…you said that you were lifting the ban on magic.”

Arthur just stood there. He glanced around. “Merlin, I’m not wearing anything.”

“Of course.” Merlin pulled the cloak off one of the dead guards and draped it around him. “I’ll go get clothes your size. And Gaius!”

Merlin never stopped running. First, he scooped up some clothes in Arthur’s room, then bolted to Gaius’s room. “Arthur needs you in the throne room!” he called, then ran back to the throne room without waiting for Gaius to catch up.

Arthur hadn’t moved from where he stood in the middle of the throne room. Merlin gently pulled the sword from his hand and placed it on the ground.

“Do you want to put on clothes now?” Merlin asked.

Gazing off in the distance, Arthur nodded. Most of the time, he dressed himself, but this time, he just let Merlin do it. Once he was dressed, he pulled out of Merlin’s grip and wandered off.

“Arthur, are you all right?” Merlin asked. He hadn’t said a thing since commenting on his lack of clothes.

Arthur stooped and picked up Sir Bear. He touched his eye, the one that had been missing and that Merlin’s magic had restored.

Gaius burst in and raised an eyebrow. “Arthur, what happened? What’s wrong?”

Arthur raised his head. Something glinted in his eye. “Gaius…” his voice rasped.

“Oh, my boy. My poor, poor boy.” Gaius shuffled forward and wrapped Arthur in his arms. “It’s all right.”

Arthur lowered his head. His shoulders shook.

This moment wasn’t one Merlin was meant to see. He silently slipped out through another door.

Merlin sat up as Gaius finally left the throne room. “How is he?”

“He’s in shock,” Gaius said. “He’s finally processing everything he learned as a child with his adult brain. Not to mention his uncle’s betrayal and death along with his sister’s death.”

Merlin stood up. “But is he…”

Gaius patted him on the shoulder. “Just give him time. Guinevere’s with him now. Let him be for now. She’ll let you know when he needs you.”

Merlin glanced at the door. He normally would wait around with Arthur, but since he was likely the source of much of Arthur’s confusion, perhaps it was best he leave his best friend to Gwen for now. “I suppose so.”

“Let’s take a look at your head,” Gaius said.

Gwen walked into Gaius’s chambers. “Merlin, Arthur wants to see you.”

Merlin hopped up, abandoning his dinner. “How is he?”

“Be gentle on him,” Guinevere said.

Merlin nodded. He curled his hands into fists. His heart pounded as he made his way to Arthur’s chambers. No matter what Arthur said, Merlin wasn’t going to get angry or upset or sad and he wasn’t going to reference what a horrible father Uther was and he wasn’t going to fight if Arthur wanted him arrested. Probably. Actually Merlin had never gotten that far in his scenarios of Arthur finding out about his magic and he wasn’t quite sure what he’d do. He obviously wouldn’t let himself be executed because he couldn’t keep Arthur alive if he was dead and he didn’t exactly want to die anyway, but he wasn’t sure what he would do. The cells weren’t a terrible place to spend the night, though, if Arthur needed to get throwing him in the dungeon out of his system.

He stepped into Arthur’s room. Arthur sat at his desk, his fingers absently playing around with Sir Bear’s foot, gazing off into the distance.

Merlin stood in front of the desk and clasped his hands behind his back. “You wanted to see me?”

“You have magic,” Arthur said. “You’re a sorcerer.”

Merlin nodded.

“You shouldn’t have lied to me about my mother,” Arthur said. “That really was a shoddy thing to do.”

“I know,” Merlin said. “I never could be sure if it was really her, but…I knew you’d regret killing your father later. I couldn’t let you just run him through and I didn’t know what to say, especially in front of him. I am so sorry I lied to you about that. I’m sorry for all the lies. I never wanted to, not once we became friends. But…”

“You didn’t want to make me choose between you and my father. I understand,” Arthur said. “You have a crappy hiding place.”

Merlin snorted. “No, I don’t. I have a very inquisitive friend.”

One side of Arthur’s mouth curved up. “Yes, you do.” He glanced at Sir Bear. “I slept in that room all the time, you know. When my father was…” He trailed off. “I hid things under that floorboard too, but never magical items.”

“You blasted holes in my wall,” Merlin said.

“I did not blast holes in your wall,” Arthur said. “And it’s technically my wall. It’s my castle.”

Merlin made a face at Arthur.

“If you’re not careful, your face will freeze that way,” Arthur said.

Merlin scowled. Now Arthur sounded like Merlin’s mother.

Arthur sighed. “Merlin, about Morgana…”

Merlin froze. “I know she was your sister, I didn’t exactly mean to blast her into bits, it just sort of happened—”

“Merlin,” Arthur broke in. “I’m not sure I would have been able to do that myself, but… It needed to be done. So for that, and for…some other things that were recently brought to my attention, I thank you.”

Merlin raised his eyebrows. “What?” He’d expected a bawling out, not a thank you.

“I’m not going to repeat it, Merlin,” Arthur said. “And another thing.” He crossed his arms and leveled a stern glare at Merlin. “A little bird told me you’ve somehow become the prince regent.”

“Take it back!” Merlin said. “Take it all back! The title, the duties, the Pendragon name, you can have it all back! I’d rather die than do your job, it sucks. I just want to be your servant again, please just let me be your servant again.” Becoming the regent had been, quite frankly, hell. He’d rather wash Arthur’s stinky socks than do that again.

“I’m afraid that ship has sailed,” Arthur said.

“Huh?”

“Let me put it simply: you’re fired.”

“What? Why?” Merlin propped himself up on the desk. “Am I banished? Please don’t say I’m banished. I don’t want to be banished.”

“Of course you’re not banished,” Arthur said. “How could I banish my son and heir?”

Merlin’s face dropped. “Arthur, no. You’re not sticking to that. You can’t! I just want to go back to normal!” He waved his hands in the air. “Why can’t we go back to the way we were before?”

“Because, despite what you or I might have intended with that sigil, the Council has accepted that as sign that I adopted you, however inadvertently,” Arthur said. “I had forgotten about that law, but I’m hardly going to tell them that now, or you’d be thrown in the dungeons for usurping the throne. You’re a Pendragon now. You may as well get used to it.” He paused. “I don’t suppose you have any recommendations for a new manservant?”

“You don’t need a new manservant, you’ve got me,” Merlin muttered.

Arthur grinned. “Not for me, for you. Gwen recommended someone named George. Apparently he makes jokes about brass. You’d find him very amusing.”

“Arthur, no.”

“Arthur, yes.”

Merlin scowled. Was it treason to kill the regent if he was also your adopted family?

“Come on, Merlin, you won’t have the time to do any chores, you’ll be too busy helping me draft some new laws,” Arthur said.

“I don’t want any—” Merlin paused. New laws? Was he saying what he thought he was saying?

“After all, you brought this mess to my attention, now you’re going to have to help me get out of it,” Arthur said. “And I still want those lessons you promised me.”

Those…lessons? The magic lessons? He still wanted him to teach him to blow things up with magic? Merlin wanted to dance and sing, shout to the sky, tell everyone that the world was just finally coming to rights. So naturally, he said the only thing appropriate for the occasion. “Prat.”

“Dollophead.”

“That’s my word!” Merlin protested.

“Do you even know what it means?” Arthur taunted.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Prince Merlin.”

“I hate you.”

“I hated you first.”

“Prat.”

“Idiot.”

Chapter Text

“Arthur, why are we camping in this spot?” Merlin complained.

“Because it’s late and I still need to teach you to track so we can have something to eat for dinner,” Arthur said.

Merlin groaned. Arthur was taking this “Merlin is my heir” thing way too seriously. Trying to teach him sword fighting and archery and hunting and how not to trip over air every three feet.

“A knight must know how to track and hunt,” Arthur said.

“But I don’t want to be a knight!” Merlin protested. “We’ve changed the law now and Uther never even noticed. I can do magic freely. Can’t I just be the Court…Sorcerer or something?”

“Of course,” Arthur said.

Merlin smiled. Free at last.

“As long as you’re also a knight,” Arthur said. “Which means you must develop certain skills…”

“That I don’t have,” Merlin muttered. “Fine. Prat.”

Arthur smiled, sliding off his horse. “You’re a Pendragon now, Merlin. You have a certain standard to uphold.”

Merlin slid off his own horse. “But don’t you think we should make camp in a bit of a different spot?”

“And why is that, Merlin?” Arthur tied his horse to a tree.

Merlin tied his horse next to Arthur’s. “Don’t you recognize it? This is the place where you were struck by that sorcerer and became a child.”

“Indeed it is,” a voice said. “I would have hoped you had learned your lesson by now.”

Merlin jumped. A cloaked figure stood at the edge of the small clearing.

Arthur drew his sword and pointed it at the figure. “And what lesson is that?”

“Get off my lawn,” the sorcerer said.

“What?” Merlin asked.

“Get off my lawn,” the sorcerer persisted. “I hit you with a harmless, temporary, incredibly inconvenient spell.”

“A very powerful spell,” Merlin said.

“From a very powerful sorcerer,” the sorcerer said. “That only wants one thing.”

“And what’s that?” Arthur asked.

“Get off my lawn!” the sorcerer shrieked.

“Fine.” Arthur sheathed his sword. “We will trouble you no further.” He untied his horse and swung himself up into the saddle. “Come on, Merlin.”

“But…” Merlin started.

“Better go,” the sorcerer said. “Unless you’d like to become six years old as well.”

“No!” Merlin untied his horse from the tree and swung himself up. “I’m going.”

“Very well,” the sorcerer said. “I hope to never see you two again.”

Arthur nodded and set his horse to a canter out of the clearing. Merlin followed him.

“And just remember one thing, Emrys and the Once and Future King,” the sorcerer added.

Merlin and Arthur paused.

Merlin glanced back. “Yes?”

“Stay off my lawn!”