Chapter Text
“I don’t know why you come out here,” Will grumbled, “Gutting the fish makes you ill.”
Merlin shrugged and looked up towards the branches of the tree, to avoid looking at Will and his knife, “It’s better than pulling up radishes. I always get a sunburn.”
“Shouldn’t you be able to do something about that? Can't you just…” Will trailed off and waggled his fingers meaningfully.
“If I could I’d never get the chance. You know what my mother is like.”
Will didn’t respond. He knew as well as Merlin did that Hunith did her best to keep Merlin safe. This close to the border of Camelot, their suspicion bled over. It didn’t matter that by all rights, Merlin should be allowed to conduct himself freely. Legality did nothing to sway long and deeply held suspicion. He was a poorly kept secret, most in Ealdor suspected that someone in the village had magic. They just could never pin it on anyone in particular, and were more focussed on keeping peace. As long as the pot wasn’t stirred, they left each other alone. All of Merlin’s knowledge came from a spell book Old Uncle Gaius had given him years back, practiced in the dead of night hidden from view from the rest of the village.
Early spring sunshine filtered through the tree branches. It wasn’t warm yet, but it was warmer than the long days of huddling together against icy rains and snows under a blanket of heavy dark clouds. Merlin closed his eyes and tilted his head further up, letting the light bathe his face. Sometimes, when he took a moment to stand still like this, he thought he could feel the very mechanics of the world at work. He could feel the trees and grass and fields of crops drinking in the sunlight and breathing in the air, could feel the animals that relied on those plants for sustenance nibbling away at them, and the animals that relied on those animals hunting. On and on it went until Merlin felt more like the world itself instead of his own person.
A sharp tug on his sleeve brought him back to reality.
Will raised his eyebrows at him, “You could at least help me catch the suckers if you’re not going to gut them.”
“Right. Sorry.” Merlin said and took the fishing spear that will brandished at him.
He leaned it against the trunk of the nearest tree and kicked off his boots. He balled up his socks and shoved them into his boots, rolled up his trousers, and followed the half submerged rocks until he was standing in the middle of the river. It was usually his job to wade out to get the bigger fish. Will couldn’t swim, but Merlin could, which meant if he fell he could make his way back to the bank without any trouble. He exhaled slowly and squinted his eyes. Instantly, the world slowed down around him, the water ran slower than it ever had, and the fish didn’t dart about in the shadows of the rocks. He could see them clearly. With a snap of his wrist, he speared one of the fish and held it aloft for Will to see.
“Show off.” Will muttered.
“You’re the one that wanted my help. I can always set the spear down and go back to daydreaming.”
Will muttered something else rude under his breath and went back to his own style of fishing. Which involved a lot of stabbing at the water and hoping that he struck something in the shallows where the fish came to catch low-flying insects and lay their eggs.
Once they had a basket full of fish, they slung their spears over Merlin’s shoulder. Will hefted the basket himself and together they made their way back to Ealdor proper.
Safe to say when they returned, they expected to see the usual hustle and bustle of village life. Farmers pulling crops and dividing them up for personal homes, versus village stock. Children feeding chickens and causing trouble with one another. What they did not expect was to walk into the village at a dead stand still. For a fleeting moment, Merlin thought he’d somehow frozen time again without noticing, but no. The light breeze that had kicked up still tossed stray hairs and loose clothing. It tangled with the crimson capes of the knights sitting astride their horses.
“Merlin,” Will said lowly, “is that Camelot?”
A knight turned a little in his seat to say something to one of his fellow knights, and Merlin caught the golden emblem stitched onto the shoulder of the cape. There was no one else it could be. Camelot knights. In Ealdor. They had no rights to cross the border into Essetir. Doing so, especially with this many knights, was as good as a declaration of war. Unless they were on a diplomatic mission of some kind. That didn’t seem likely. Cenred and Uther had been feuding for years. Ealdor had been spared the worst of their clashes with each other when Merlin and Will were little. They were difficult to get to on the other side of a mountain. Shortly after a truce was upheld after Essetir and Camelot both lost too many men, and rumors began to circulate about Uther’s witch hunters. Cenred had used it as an opportunity to accept a new wave of fleeing citizens and recruit them into his army. They had reached a stalemate, and so they’d backed off. It wasn’t exactly peace, but it wasn’t all out war and that was a lot better.
“Do we go in and see what’s happening, or hide by the river and hope they leave?” Merlin whispered back.
The choice was taken from them. The knight that had turned to say something turned further in his saddle, and his eyes alighted on Merlin and Will. He frowned at them and made a gesture to cut off what was being said to him. His hair glinted a coppery red-blonde in the sunlight.
“Are you residents of Ealdor?” he called.
Merlin and Will glanced at one another. An entire conversation passed between them in subtle twitches of eyebrows and grimaces. In the end, they agreed to tell the truth. They had already been caught. No point in lying and getting taken in for poaching or something equally as ridiculous.
“We live here!” Will called back.
“Join the rest of your village in greeting their new prince!” the knight called.
Reluctantly, Will led the walk from the edge of the forest to the village. Passing in front of the knights of Camelot made Merlin understand the plight of the rabbit better than he ever had. The knights were the hawks, circling just overhead waiting for the slightest twitch so they could dive down and snap his neck. He and Will wove through the crowd, keeping their heads down. They found Merlin’s mother in the middle of the pack and slotted in to stand next to her.
“What’s going on?’ Merlin whispered.
“Camelot has signed a peace treaty with Essetir.” she answered, ”The land along the base of the Ridge of Essetir was given over as part of it.”
He didn’t get a chance to ask her any more details. At the front of the group of knights, a blonde knight dismounted from his horse. He was of a height with Merlin, but had the broad build of someone who had handled swords his entire life. Dismounting threw his face in shadow, but Merlin could make out a tidy blonde-brown beard that was trimmed so that it didn’t sit far from his natural jawline. When he turned to look at the assembled village, something about his eyes seemed off. They were too blue and darted around the assembled people like they were trained to pick out something specific.
“I am Prince Arthur of Camelot.” he announced in a carrying voice.
A murmur rose among the assembled people. Most were shocked to have royalty in their village at all. They had certainly never seen hide nor hair of Cenred. Occasionally a royal messenger would ride out to check on them if their taxes were low that year. Safe to say none of them had ever seen a prince, let alone heard one address them.
Merlin’s heart swooped down to his feet so fast he felt ill. He pulled in a deep gasping breath and tried to steady himself. A hand that must have been Will’s came up to rest on his shoulder.
Bad enough his home was now part of the fiercest anti-magic kingdom in all five kingdoms, but a witch hunter was in his village. Uther was the stuff of every sorcerer’s nightmare. He’d started the purge a few years before Merlin was born, and around the time Merlin was ten rumors had begun spreading. They spoke of Uther kidnapping sorcerers but not killing them. Some thought they were being tortured, but most told sotries of Uther using their magic for his own twisted means. It spoke of men crying out in the night as magic ravaged their bodies in ways it was never meant to. When Merlin was thirteen, Uther had finally announced his own small band of Witch Hunters. Men who had made the noble sacrifice of subjecting themselves to magic in the hopes of eradicating the threat altogether. They could sense magic even if it wasn’t being used, were tougher than any regular knight, and had their own limited magical capacity to defend themselves against spells and enchantments.His own son had been the first example.
The son currently standing in front of all of Ealdor and announcing, “In a treaty with Cenred of Essetir, we agreed to come to peace. He gave us some of his farm land and in return we gave over an equivalent in mines. That makes the village of Ealdor a part of Camelot, from here on out.”
“My knights and I were tasked with staying in Ealdor for a year to get things in order. We’re here to oversee the adherence to the laws of Camelot, and report back to my father about the state of things in Ealdor. As long as things go smoothly, you will be free of us within a year, and a new era of peace will reign.”
A round of applause went up through the assembled villagers. Merlin thought he was going to faint. He’d never fainted before, but there was a buzzing in his ears. Loud buzzing. Like he’d stuck his head in a beehive. Will hissed something at him, but he didn’t hear what it was. The Prince of Camelot here for a year? Merlin could barely hide his magic from people who refused to see it. There was no way in hell that he was going to keep it hidden from a man specifically altered to be able to detect it.
“I need someone to work as a scribe for me, and in the interest of getting to know the community I would prefer it be someone from Ealdor. Does anyone know how to read and write?” Arthur asked.
“Hunith can read, can't she?” Old Woman Frena asked of the village at large.
“I can, but I’m afraid I can’t be a scribe for you, Sire.” Hunith answered immediately. Merlin was amazed that her voice was so steady. “I’m the village healer. I spend all my time to either help pull in crops or brew remedies for the ill. Taking me away from my duties would put the village at risk.”
“Is there no one else that can read and write?”
“Not to the extent you would need to take notes for the kind of reports you are sending to King Uther.”
“I thought you had taught your son.” Old Man Simmons said accusingly.
“You’ve all met him, he’s an idiot!” WIll protested, making a valiant effort to keep Merlin out of Arthur’s piercing gaze.
Arthur’s gaze flickered between Will, Hunith, and Old Man Simmons. It alighted on Merlin and his eyes narrowed, “Are you her son?”
“Yes. Sire.” Merlin said hoarsely.
“Are you an idiot like your friend claims?”
“Oh, yes. Massive one.” Merlin agreed with a gormless grin, “Can barely add two numbers together.”
“In my experience, the more someone claims to be an idiot, the less idiotic they are. I’ll start by giving the job to you. If it turns out later that you’re incompetent, then I can send for a scribe from Camelot.
“For now, you can all go back to your usual duties. I need to speak with the alderman.”
As one, the villagers disbanded and went back to their usual spring duties of pulling and planting crops, and repairing any damage that had come of harsh winter conditions. Merlin didn't wait around to hear from his mother or Will. He went straight home. He didn’t run. Running signaled to predators that you were prey. He did, however, walk at the briskest pace he could without running. Once safely inside, he pulled out the older leather pack that sat inside on one of the shelves in their home. He didn’t own much. Just a couple of shirts and trousers. They went into the bag. No one had had time to make bread yet, so he was short on food supplies. Maybe he could convince Will to give him some of the fish they caught. It should hold him until he was safely back within Essetir’s borders. He could deal with where to go from there once he didn’t have the first Witch Hunter breathing down his neck.
The front door of the hut banged open with a loud thud and WIll appeared in silhouette. His eyes landed on Merlin’s bag and he heaved a sigh of relief, “At least you have the good sense to be packing.”
“Any chance you could spare a few of the fish we caught?” Merlin asked as he crammed his book in among the clothes and drew the top of the pack tight shut.
“I think so. No one would know the difference.”
The door opened much more calmly, and Merlin’s mother stepped in, “I hope you’re not running away, Merlin.”
“Mother, I can't stay here. It’s not safe.”
“Running away now will only make him suspicious. He’ll want to know why you left your home the night after he gave you a position most peasants and farmers could never hope to achieve.”
“Tell him I’ve gone anywhere. I could be going to help a relative in another village or have an apprenticeship already lined up somewhere else. It’s not like he’d know better.”
“Merlin, it will look strange and if he starts asking questions about you to the others he’ll find out soon enough that Gaius is the only family we have. How would you get an apprenticeship without family? Or being off to visit a sick relative?”
“I’m with Merlin.” Will said, “Witch Hunters can sense magic, and Merlin has more of it than anyone.”
“Clearly he can't sense its source, or he would have cut you down the moment you set foot in the village.” she insisted, “Merlin, my love, you know I would never put you in danger unless I thought leaving would make it worse.”
Merlin hesitated. There was no one he trusted more than his mother. She had kept him safe his entire life. If she thought he was safer right under Arthur’s nose, then he might be. She had a point. Arthur hadn’t cut him down the moment he’d entered. Maybe the tales of being able to sense magic were exaggerated. Maybe it was only that they were tougher against sorcerers once they were found.
“I’ll stay, but I’m leaving my bag packed. I want to be able to leave in a hurry.”
“I was right.” WIll groaned, “You are an idiot.”
Merlin’s Mother rolled her eyes and reached over to smack Will on the back of his head. Will squawked in protest and rubbed the back of his head.
There was a knock at the door and Merlin hastily stuffed his packed bag in the barrel they used as a table. When the door opened, it admitted the red haired knight from before. He had a beard of his own, but it wasn’t as neatly groomed as Arthur’s. It was just that much fuzzier.
“The prince wishes to see you.” he said.
Merlin wiped his suddenly sweating palms on his trousers and left with the knight. The sunshine that had felt comfortably warm after a winter locked inside was hot on his back. Most people barely glanced up at him as he passed by, but every sideways look burned a hole straight through the fabric of his jacket. He was led to the Alderman’s house. The Alderman of Ealdor, Matthew, had been in charge for a bit over ten years. In his time he’d done a decent job. Bandits were common in these parts, but he was usually able to negotiate with them so that no one was harmed and a minimal amount of food was taken. In all those years, Merlin had never been to his house.Barely anyone had. Some went if they were old family friends and were having a dinner together, but usually if you went to Matthew instead of him coming to you, it meant something had gone horribly wrong.
Prince Arthur was leaned against a table when Merlin arrived. He’d done away with his crimson cape and was left just in his chainmail. He set aside the cup he’d been drinking from when Merlin entered with the knight.
“Thank you, Leon.”
The knight inclined his head, said “My lord”, and walked off. It left Merlin standing under the unflinching, too observant, stare of Prince Arthur. Merlin always thought the moment he stepped into the room with a Witch Hunter, his life would be forfeit.
“I never got your name.” Arthur said.
“Merlin, Sire.”
“Well, Merlin, no time to adjust. I need your help now. Gather some papers and ink and meet me outside.”