Work Text:
There was an oil substance that Arthur learned to brew once he became a knight.
It was a knight tradition. Every new recruit would be salved with the substance.
Uther, when he was yet to be king, was allowed to choose whether or not it would be used on him. Just because he was the crown prince. He had denied it and forgotten about it´s existence. But they had kept using the method. It was tradition, after all. Arthur was granted the same privilege.
It was so old, and so known to the knights, that nobody questioned if it was connected to magic in any way. Which, in hindsight, should have been an obvious concern.
The oil was brewed from herbs. But enchanted by a crystal that the knights hid in the armory.
It caused the body of the knight to change into a much younger form.
A premature one. The child would know nothing of the knight they were going to be. But they would know one thing:
That what gave their life meaning.
To break the enchantment, that meaning must be broken. The meaning must be lost.
Using this method, the knights would gain further knowledge about each other. It formed a deeper bond between them.
Though the knights would never remember what they had done in their child form.
It was an unspoken agreement that they would never be told what they had done. It was part of the ritual to upheld one´s honor.
As you could not be embarrassed by having done something you don´t remember. It could also not be held as blackmail.
If a knight would break that promise, they would be exiled for treason.
That as well, was one of the reasons why only the most trusted knights knew how to make the oil.
One was Arthur. The other was Leon. Elyan was about to learn of this, as well as Lancelot.
Arthur didn´t know what had happened when he chose to let himself be treated with that oil substance, behind his fathers back.
Uther didn´t approve of Arthur´s decision to be treated like every other knight. Because a premature knight was a weak one. A child prince would be helpless to his surroundings.
Arthur also wondered what had happened to Leon, when he used the salve, as Leon was a knight far longer than Arthur was.
But he remembered Gwaine using it.
Gwaine´s self apparently only ever wanted a friend. Wanted someone to give his life meaning.
Which had surprised both Arthur and Leon. And it was heartbreaking to go around and make sure, Gwaine wouldn´t find a single one.
It was even harder to convince Merlin to keep ignoring the boy. Gwaine was so hurt by this, Arthur had almost considered leaving him be a child until he returned to be himself naturally.
But they had to break the spell. That was a rule. Breaking it would be breaking the knights code.
Percival´s meaning in life was to train, to be strong enough to rescue his family from Cendred´s kingdom.
To break his spell, they had to tell him his family had already died. Which wasn´t a lie, but it was hard to get it through to Percival.
Arthur started to hate using the oil on his men like that. It used to be more fun, when his knights were all just knights without a worry in the world. Instead he got traumatized commoners.
Elyan was easier to take care of. The meaning in his life was that he´d do anything for his sister.
To break the spell, Gwen had to give him a task, he couldn´t possibly fulfill.
She ended up making him catch chickens. Which young Elyan was horrible at. That broke the spell easily.
Lancelot´s meaning in life was – to become a knight. Arthur had almost laughed as they realized that. They just told him he was no royal and therefore could never be a knight. Which wasn´t a real lie, but an old rule that didn´t apply anymore.
Every knight had a meaning in their life. And Arthur was proud to say that each one of them was honorable, and kind.
Some more depressing than others. But all devoted to Camelot and the people they loved.
One day, however, Arthur made the mistake of leaving the oil lying around in his room and forgetting about it. They had just knighted a young man and Arthur was too exhausted to care about supervising the ritual.
He had been in a hurry, because they were off to fight a dangerous sorcerer on the other side of the forest. The sorcerer had been spotted by a few farmers.
His manservant had made the unfortunate assumption that it was a salve to cure ones wounds.
So it was taken with them on the trip.
After a small battle that forced Arthur and his men to retreat back to their camp, Arthur decided they´d wait the night to treat their wounds. Before they would fight again in the morning.
Even Merlin had been wounded and that was something that rarely ever happened.
Arthur was checking up Lancelot´s wounds, when he heard Leon shout in Merlin´s direction.
Merlin, who was treating his own wounds with a salve that shouldn´t be here.
Merlin fell unconscious, as all the knights had, when the oil had been applied to them. Only then did Arthur recognize his mistake.
Arthur rushed forward, to catch Merlin in his arms.
His knights knew what this was about, as soon as they saw the salve. They knew what must have happened.
“Merlin, you idiot, why did you bring that with you!”, Arthur could hear himself shout, confirming to the knights that this situation was in fact, Merlin´s fault. Not his own.
“Sire, is he okay?”, Lancelot rushed forward now, checking if Merlin had gathered a fever. He put his hand on Merlin´s face and shook his head in relief.
But it was clear that Merlin´s features were slowly decreasing into a much, much younger form.
The timing, Merlin. The timing!
The thing was, Arthur couldn´t really remember anyone turning this – young.
All Arthur knew was that the one person the oil is applied to, changes to the last day before they matured.
That of course, didn´t mean physically, but mentally.
Before they had to take care of their family or before they fought their first battle.
Merlin, in Arthur´s eyes, was still a child. Merlin was around three years younger than himself, which made his loud mouth even more impressing.
But his impression of the man contradicted with what Arthur saw now. The Merlin in his arms turned eight years old.
Eight years.
Elyan had been fourteen before he left home and became a mercenary. That´s why he turned fourteen when he used the salve.
Percival had turned twelve. That was the day before he started his training in Cendred´s kingdom.
Gwaine had been thirteen when his father died.
And those were about the youngest Arthur knew of. Leon had told him once that Arthur had been the youngest of them. Apparently, Arthur had turned around ten years old. That was as much as Arthur allowed Leon to tell him.
But eight years?
Merlin was a farmer on the Border between Camelot and Essetir. Why would an eight year old farmer need to grow up so young?
Merlin´s eyes shot open and he sat up, confused but not terrified of his unknown surroundings. As though he was used to waking up in strange places - surrounded by strangers.
“Merlin, you´re okay!”, Arthur sighed in relief and the other knights laughed too.
Well, child Merlin couldn´t be much harder to protect than old Merlin, right? They should be equally powerless.
“What? Where am I?”, Merlin asked, shaking his head in search for something familiar.
Then he noticed the people surrounding him wore chain mail and weapons and he immediately shied away from them to push his back against the next tree. He turned around, searching for someone. But the crest and the men were unfamiliar to him.
“Who are you! What do you want from me?!”, he asked, eyes furrowed in a warning that made Arthur almost chuckle.
If it wasn´t for the fact that Merlin was being hostile towards his own friends.
“It´s fine, Merlin. We´re your friends. We´re knights of Camelot – we -”
“Knights!?”, Merlin frowned in disbelieve. “Of Camelot? Why are you in Essetir? Where is my mom?”
Arthur blinked at his young servant. He had never seen Merlin so – angry? Demanding? Self aware?
Well, not quite true. The first day they met, Merlin had kept implying that he could defeat Arthur easily. Which was simply ridiculous. But he now wore the same expression as back then.
“We are not in Essetir. We are in Camelot. My name is Arthur. I´m the -”
The something in Merlin´s eyes changed. “Arthur Pendragon, crown Prince of Camelot.”, he said, as though he recognized the name.
Arthur grinned slightly. “Yes, that´s me.” Weird. Merlin shouldn´t know who he was. He certainly didn´t know the day he started calling Arthur a prat. That could only mean one thing.
Merlin tilted his head at Arthur, as though he was trying to understand what his head was telling him. And Arthur wondered what this was too.
If Merlin recognized Arthur, that meant that whatever Merlin´s meaning in life was – it was connected to Arthur.
Which might actually make sense. Merlin was stupidly loyal. Maybe Merlin´s meaning in life was to annoy Arthur. Maybe it was to be his friend? Which Arthur thought would be sad. Maybe even sadder then Gwaine´s story.
“You-”, Merlin interrupted Arthur´s train of thought. Merlin looked as though he didn´t quite understand the meaning of his own thoughts.
“I have to protect you. I have to keep you alive.”, Merlin blinked, causing Arthur to straighten his back. Merlin looked just as confused as Arthur felt.
But that was what Merlin´s mind was telling him.
Ok, now this was getting really ridiculous. How could Merlin of all people think he had to keep Arthur alive?
How could he think he was able to? How was that the meaning of his life?
“Thank you, Merlin. But I´m fine. I don´t need your protection.”, Arthur said half heartedly. That would break whatever the oil did to Merlin, wouldn´t it?
Of course it didn´t.
“Somehow, I don´t believe that.”, young Merlin said unimpressed and finally stood up in his clothes that were far too big for his young body.
“If I´m supposed to protect you, does that mean we´re friends?”, Merlin asked and Arthur couldn´t help it, he nodded slowly. Never mind he had never admitted to this before. Merlin just nodded with his signature smile. Which looked weird on the young and round face. That still somehow held his high cheekbones in place.
Wobbly, not used to his small size, Merlin went for the fire and counted however many people were around him and started cooking.
Arthur stared at the sight. An eight year old boy was cooking for them?
I mean – that was technically Merlin´s job, but not in this condition! And Arthur hadn´t even ordered him to.
Not to mention how small and fragile Merlin looked.
The knights couldn´t keep their glances from the boy.
“He´s so young.”, Gwaine said quietly. Suddenly feeling bad for him.
“Well, he told me once he never met his father. I suppose he had to pick up the role of the house keeper at a very young age.”, Lancelot tried to explain and Arthur nodded.
Yes, that was about as much as he knew as well.
“But, Sire. If the meaning of his life is to protect you and keep you alive – does that mean you have to die for him to turn back?”, Percival interrupted. And Arthur had to admit, the knight had a valid point.
Remembering how it was when Gwaine had changed into a child. Lost with no direction and desperate for people to listen.
Arthur paled. He hadn´t thought about that yet.
“Maybe. Or he must believe I´m dead. Or we must convince him that I´m save!”, Arthur responded, glad that his mind was still working for him.
“And how are we supposed to do that, when we´re hunting that -”, Lancelot said, but stopped before he could say the word “sorcerer.” Arthur figured that Lancelot probably didn´t want to frighten the child.
Merlin looked in their direction. His eyes curious wandering from man to man.
-------------
They ate in silence. The soup wasn´t as good as usual, but still better than anything the knights could have made. And he decided not to criticize the boy who was waiting until everyone had their fill before he took his own.
Did Merlin always do that? Before, I mean. Arthur had figured that Merlin was usually waiting for everyone else to eat first, because of the differences in their status.
But Merlin was a child now.
Children didn´t wait to eat their food. They didn´t cook. They didn´t wake up in the middle of a bunch of strangers without panicking. Like that was normal.
“Say, Merlin, friend. How old are you?”, Gwaine finally spoke up. He had stared at his oldest friend intensely. Merlin met his eyes with a childish smile before speaking up.
“I´m seven. I´ll turn eight next month. I think.”, he said, before looking at the plants and trying to figure out what time of year it was.
“Next month is November, isn´t it?”, he asked, but Gwaine just gaped.
“He´s seven!”, he mouthed to Arthur in exasperation.
Arthur gulped. “Aren´t you hungry, Merlin?”, he asked instead.
Merlin turned to Arthur, looking at his own food plate that he hadn´t touched yet.
“Cendred said I´m not supposed to eat, until my king has finished. I guess if you´re my friend, that means you are my king too, right?”
Arthur´s spoon fell onto his plate. “Cendred!”, he asked in shock. “You served under Cendred?”, he asked, absolutely flabbergasted. Merlin was seven years old, for god´s sake.
But he spoke like a servant already. A fine one at that. Like Arthur imagined one to behave.
Merlin was seven. And he didn´t even act like a child. Opposite to what the Merlin he knew did.
“I do, yes. Did? Is he still holding my mom hostage?”, Merlin explained, slightly confused at his contradicting thoughts. “In our village. He said he´d hurt her, if I don´t do as he says.
Which is why I don´t understand. Why does my mind tell me I´m serving you? You are not Cendred.”
Arthur´s mouth was wide open.
“Are you sure we are friends?”, Merlin kept asking. He sat straight before them, glancing hungrily at his plate.
“You should eat, Merlin.”, Arthur said quietly. Apparently that was answer enough for Merlin, because his eyes filled with hope as he turned his attention back to his food.
And started shoving spoons into his face.
So that was why Merlin had to grow up fast. That was why he despised fighting.
Arthur had heard of Cendred´s cruel rule and the way he tortured his own people. He never thought he did the same with children. He expected even less for one of them to be Merlin.
Which left the question of how and why Merlin came to Camelot. How had he escaped? And why was it that he had forgotten his manners along the way?
Gwaine didn´t seem satisfied with that answer.
“Merlin, I´ve met Cendred before. I – er – my father used to fight in his name.-”
Merlin interrupted him. “You father was a knight in Essetir?”, he asked with wonder in his eyes and Gwaine shut his mouth. Before slowly, more hesitant than any of the knights had ever seen him, he nodded.
The reaction was instant.
If Gwaine´s father was a knight that meant -
“You actually are a royal?”, Lancelot whispered in surprise. Jealousy in his words. Of course he would be.
Everyone knew how hard it was for commoners to become knights. Under Uther´s rule at least.
Only under Arthur´s short reign were they given the title. And not all knights were happy about that. Especially Gwaine had been a thorn in their eyes.
They had despised him. Said he lacked the honor of a true royal knight of Camelot. Lacked everything that should run in the blood of a man of good upbringing.
And now it turned out he had everything that required him to be a true knight. More so than Lancelot.
Gwaine nodded, ignoring the majority of the reactions, especially Arthur´s. Who was gaping at him with wide eyes. Never mind Merlin, what the hell?
“Cendred doesn´t do child soldiers. He trains them, yes. But he doesn´t actually use them or force them to become knights. Especially not some farm kids.
And he has more than enough servants. He doesn´t need a child for that. Why would he hold your mom hostage just to get to you? What do you have that he wants?”
Merlin shrugged. “I don´t know. He said he knew my father. He said that as soon as my father was dead, I would be of good use for him.
I already am, he said. Because I´m talented.”
Arthur blinked. Talented? “What do you mean by talented?”, he asked. Because Merlin could barely hold a sword. He was clumsy and had a loud mouth. What talent could this child have that Cendred wanted it?
And if like on cue, there was a noise in the bushes, as arrows flew right at Arthur, right at his men and the sorcerer revealed himself from the ends of the forest. Barely twenty feet away.
It was as if time slowed down.
At first Arthur thought it was all just in his mind, but then the other knights jumped to their feet, ready to fight the sorcerer who stared at them in confusion.
The arrows had frozen right in front of them.
But it didn´t look like it was the sorcerer´s intention to do so.
Slowly, Arthur turned around to see what the man was staring at.
And once again, he found the eyes of his servant. Who were not directed at him and they clearly weren´t blue anymore.
Merlin´s eyes were transfixed on the arrows, until he nodded at them and they fell to the ground.
Merlin still sat on the ground, now looking at the confused sorcerer.
“How on earth did you -”, the man, a typical old geezer whispered in disbelieve. Because clearly, him and Arthur shared the opinion that what they had just seen was absolutely impossible.
“Hello, friend.”, Merlin said with a smile. Kind, but powerful. As though Merlin was the royal in their midst. A magical royal. A sorcerer. A child with magic. Arthur´s eyes widened even more. So THAT´s what he meant by talented.
“That – you didn´t use incantations, where did you learn? Where did you study?”
Merlin blinked at him in honest confusion. “I never learned anything. I could always do this.”, Merlin waved at the arrows, that flew up in the sky again, now directed at the sorcerer.
“That´s not possible. You use it like an instinct! That´s not how magic works, you -”
The sorcerer made a quick decision as he took a knife and send it towards Arthur´s throat.
Arthur couldn´t breath, but he felt his skin break apart, as he felt the cold metal against it.
Merlin´s eyes turned furious, as he waved at the knife that now joined the arrows, directed at the seemingly powerless sorcerer.
“I will not allow you to touch him!”, Merlin whispered, eyes wider than they were supposed to be, as the weapons flew at the old man. The child stood up, fury in his eyes.
Arthur didn´t know why, but something told him this was all wrong. Well yeah, maybe “why” wasn´t the right question.
“Merlin, STOP!”, he shouted, unable to feel betrayal. This was a child. Someone who could control magic but – as the sorcerer had said – he used it on instinct. Like – like he was born with it. Like he had no choice. Like it came to him by itself.
Merlin, to Arthur´s and his knights surprise, stopped. And turned to Arthur with a question in his eyes.
“He – I -”, Arthur lost his voice.
Lancelot picked his own up. “Merlin, we probably need him. He can tell us why you can use magic so – freely.”, he said, as the one knight who didn´t even seem surprised.
Merlin nodded, slowly. The stopped arrows falling to the ground again.
“What are you, boy?”, one of the knights said with a gasp. They all feared magic. They all had been taught how evil it was. And yet here was a child. Seven years old, sworn to protect their prince. Using magic against their enemy.
The sorcerers eyes widened slowly, as he seemed to understand what was going on.
“Oh my. You can´t be....
You are, aren´t you?”
“Am I who?”, Merlin asked, still sitting in the middle of the knights, who were glancing at Arthur, waiting for instructions.
“Emrys. Protector of the once and future king.”
Arthur gasped. Once and future king. He had heard that name before. From Merlin´s mouth. But he had never heard of the name Emrys.
“My name is Merlin. I protect Arthur.”, was what the boy said. His eyes were squinted. He didn´t understand what Emrys was. He didn´t know who the once and future king was.
He didn´t know of his own destiny.
The sorcerer looked between the child and Arthur and decided not to risk it. He knelt down before them.
Head bowed deep to the ground.
“Forgive me, my lord. I have come to these woods to help the druids that were attacked by bandits. All of a sudden I was hunted by knights. I didn´t know you were with them. If I had known I would have abandoned this place as soon as I could.”
Arthur blinked at how surreal this had just gotten. This sorcerer was bowing to child Merlin. And Merlin shot questioning glances at Arthur. How was he supposed to answer?
“Tell us what or who Emrys is.”, he demanded instead. If anyone had answers, clearly it would be the sorcerer.
Speaking of magic, did this mean Merlin had been a sorcerer the entire time he´s been in Camelot? No way... the possibilities Merlin had to kill him or his father -
instead, the boy had kept saving their life´s. Arthur´s head started spinning.
Merlin had TOLD him that magic was evil. He had told him how Morgouse tricked him into believing his fathers ways were unjust.
Then again, Merlin had been friends with Will. Another sorcerer – or was Will ever a sorcerer at all?
Had he died and taken Merlin´s secret with him?
What kind of man was Merlin that people gave him such trust and loyalty?
“Emrys, Sire. Is the most powerful warlock to ever walk the earth. He is magic itself. And he is destined to help the once and future king reunite the land of Albion. The greatest king this world has ever known.”
Other words that Arthur recognized. So Merlin knew of this destiny, clearly.
But this child didn´t.
If this child didn´t – that meant Merlin´s meaning in life was not this great destiny.
It was – as he had said – to protect Arthur. Not the once and future king. Arthur Pendragon. That´s all he remembered. Save and serve him. And him alone.
“If I´m supposed to protect you – does that mean we´re friends?”, Arthur repeated in his mind.
God – how stupid Merlin was. Was that really the most logical explanation for this child?
Arthur opened his mouth to say something, then he closed it again, before reopening it once more.
“How can he be magic itself?”
The sorcerer smiled quietly.
“I don´t know. But magic is life. It is everything that surrounds us and this boy it connected to it all. He will live longer than any kingdom you may encounter. And passed their demise. He will see empires build and fall. And he will wait for the once and future king to return when the world needs him most.”, the sorcerer recited. As though this was a prophecy. A prophesy concerning Arthur and whatever happened after his death.
Arthur felt something heavy sink in his guts. Merlin. Really?! His servant? His Merlin was supposed to be immortal? Destined to protect him? Destined to advise him?
Merlin sat down on his stone, overwhelmed by these information.
“I – I think we should all sit down and – and take a break.”, Arthur finally decided. Unsure if it was a good idea to lower their weapons at the sorcerer who had entered their midst.
Or the magic child that had been there all along.
The knights seemed to sense his discomfort, but followed his command.
“I warn you, sorcerer.”, Merlin quietly said, not even looking at the man. “Don´t you dare raise a hand on my king.”
Arthur gulped and the sorcerer readily bowed once more. “I wouldn´t dream of it, Emrys, my lord.”
-----------------
The knights took turns watching the sorcerer.
Despite their fears, Arthur had not assigned anyone to watch Merlin. That was a task he´d rather tend to personally.
It itched under his skin, as he watched Merlin just sit around and be quiet, unless someone decided to talk to him. Merlin was never quiet.
But Merlin also never lied. He had never had secrets.
Arthur´s world had never been turned upside down like this.
Maybe if Merlin suddenly started to grow a second, head things would return to normal somehow.
“Merlin?”
Merlin´s head snapped up. He relaxed when he realized it was Arthur who was talking to him.
“Yes?”, he responded shortly.
“Since when have you had – magic?”, he asked, feeling how eyes turned to him. The light flickering from the fire that Merlin was playing with. His eyes either golden or mirrors of the fire.
“If you´re my friend, shouldn´t you know?”, Merlin asked him with confusion. But he didn´t look like he was blaming Arthur. More like he was honestly surprised.
Arthur wondered what it must be like. To be trapped inside the body of a child. Not knowing who or where you are. Not knowing whom to trust. All you really knew was where you were before, which is where you´re not anymore. And that voice in your head that told you the one guy with the sharpest sword was the person you had to protect.
The very same man who was the crown prince of the kingdom that constantly wants you dead.
The only other option a man who held your mother hostage to use your powers for himself.
Merlin wasn´t smiling, as Arthur just sighed. “Just tell me.”
Merlin shuffled in his seat, before looking at Arthur once more. “I was born with them.”, he said.
Arthur nodded slowly. After everything he´d heard before, he wasn´t even surprised by that answer. And he believed every word.
Merlin was the one constant in his life. The one person who would never betray him. At least that´s what Arthur wanted to believe. Now that Merlin was a child – it was hard to judge him.
It would have been hard already, if Merlin was an adult.
Now it was even harder. Because despite everything, Merlin had displayed absolute loyalty to Camelot. To Arthur.
And then there was the fact that the sorcerer had stopped attacking them as soon as he saw Merlin. Moreover, he had told them how he helped the farmers and druids from bandit attacks and blessed the crops.
He even spoke some blessings upon the wounds that he had inflicted the day before.
He had apologized profusely. Multiple times. And since none of Arthur´s men had died by the sorcerer´s hand, since his only goal had been Arthur himself – it was hard to stay mad at the old man.
“Why didn´t I tell you?”, Merlin asked, And Arthur realized that Merlin must know that there is a long life span missing from his memories.
“I don´t know.”, Arthur said, biting his lips. That was the question, wasn´t it?
“Maybe you didn´t trust me.”
The child narrowed his eyes, considering Arthur´s explanations. “No, I don´t think that´s the problem.”
“How would you know? You can´t even remember anything.” Arthur felt so stupid, arguing with a child. Then again, that was little different then talking to adult Merlin.
“I can feel it. I trust you. I only just met you, but I trust you. I don´t think it has anything to do with trust.” Merlin said.
“But then why -”
“I don´t know!”, the child shot his arms up in exasperation. Confusion and frustration.
“How would I know! I just woke up here, I don´t even know what has happened to me! I don´t know who you are and you are asking ME questions! How am I supposed to know! I just want my mom.”
Merlin hugged himself on the little rock he was still sitting on.
That´s when Arthur remembered – once again – that Merlin was just a child right now.
“Merlin, hey, it´s fine.”, Arthur tried to talk as calm as he could. And for the first time, he moved closer to his oldest friend. Awkwardly, he reached out his hand to touch Merlin´s shoulder, but the boy sneaked himself passed his arms and hugged him closely.
Just to sniffle into his chain mail.
Arthur blinked. He had not expected this and no – he was definitely not used to this.
Shakily and a little nervous, Arthur tried to ignore the snot that was now glued to the metal of his armor and tried to pat the child on his back.
He made a face that Merlin couldn´t see, but had Gwaine laughing from where he watched the sorcerer.
Weird, wasn´t it? Less than an hour ago, this child had been declared to be the most powerful sorcerer of all times, immortal and a strong protector and ally of Camelot.
And now he was but a child sobbing into a knights arms, crying for his mom.
No wonder Merlin was only seven when he had to grow up.
But Arthur wanted Merlin back. The older one. The one who knew who he was and who could explain whatever the freaking heck was going on right now.
But for that – they had to break the meaning of Merlin´s life. They had to kill Arthur.
-----------------------
“Is there another way?”, Arthur asked, while Merlin calmed down in his arms. But made no move to change his position.
Apparently he didn´t mind the metal that rubbed into his skin and was about to leave bruises on his face.
The sorcerer, who was chained close to the fire, and was telling the knights stories of wondrous magical beasts, looked up surprised.
Then, Arthur remembered, they had to tell him about the oil.
“You´ve been using magic the entire time?”, the sorcerer asked in shock, after they finally explained the whole story to him. The man rubbed his hands together.
“No.”, Arthur frowned. “It´s an old tradition of knights -”
“Yes, but the crystal. From your description, I´d guess it is a shard from the crystal of Nemeth. It holds powerful magic.
The crystal is said to see into the future or the past. The ritual you describe harnesses that power and changes your knights back into their child form.
Where their journey began.
You can´t seriously believe that crystal had nothing to do with magic? How do you explain the changes that happened to Emrys?”
Arthur opened his mouth to answer. But yet again, he failed to find the right words.
He had been using magic? ALL this time? And he hadn´t even noticed? And Merlin probably had too. Like Morgana or the numerous witches and sorcerers that had done so right in front of his nose.
How oblivious could one person be?
“But I´m not corrupted.”, he finally said, causing young Merlin to stare at him with wide eyes.
“Magic corrupts?”, he asked, confused, eager to listen to what Arthur had to say.
“Magic is evil.”, Arthur nodded, like he was taught himself.
The sorcerer shook his head, as tears gathered in Merlin´s eyes once more. “But – I was born with magic. Am I evil? Am I going to hurt anyone?”
Arthur flinched, as the words dug deep into his guts. No. This was Merlin. This was a child. How could he believe that -
“Shh, no Merlin. You just – stop using it?”
Merlin´s mouth shivered at that. “What if I can´t?!”, he whispered quietly, afraid the knights would hear him. They did, but Merlin didn´t need to know that.
“What do you mean, you can´t?”, Arthur asked, careful not to frighten the boy. But Merlin looked up at him with wide eyes. “My mom said I shouldn´t use it. She said she wants to protect me. But when I don´t use it – it just – makes boom.”, Merlin waved with his arms, showing an explosion with his gestures.
Arthur looked startled, like some of his knights did, too.
“You, see, Arthur Pendragon. Magic is tied to people´s emotions. You can´t just stop feeling.
But back to your question – you said you have to break the meaning of his life to get him back to normal?”
Arthur nodded slowly. Unsure if he liked where this was going.
“And the meaning of his life seems to be to protect you?”, the sorcerer added, starting to understand the dilemma.
“Well. I suppose we could make it look like you died. But as far as the prophecy is concerned, your death won´t end the meaning of his life. You are the once and future king. You will return, one day. And he will wait no matter how long it takes.”
Arthur paled. “So we have to wait until he – grows up?”. Arthur waved at the lump of boy in his arms. Hmm – Arthur could get used to that, actually.
* cough *
“No. I suppose you could get him back, if you use magic to reverse the effects.”
Arthur blinked. “It´s just that simple?”, he asked. The sorcerer smiled.
“Yes. It is that simple. I doubt you trust me enough to do it myself, but the boy could just use magic himself. He just needs to connect himself to his magic, and – well. He´s Emrys, he´ll figure it out.”
Arthur nodded slowly – again.
“What do you say, Merlin. Do you want to grow up again?”
Merlin grabbed his arms a bit tighter. “I feel like I´ve never really been a child. Can´t I – Can´t I be that for one more day?”
Arthur´s comforting smile fell. Jesus, this child was going to be the end of him.
“I think, Merlin. For you – growing up doesn´t mean getting political or stern or mad like most adults are. The you I know has always been a child. I think you´re even more of a child when you´ve grown up, than what you are now.”
Merlin looked up at him with doubt. But nodded with a small smile of his own. “Okay.”, he then said. As if Arthur´s words alone had been enough to convince him.
Then he closed his eyes, calling on his magic.
It was Arthur´s first instinct to move away, to distance himself from the boy who´s eye lids gleamed golden from the irises beneath.
Then Merlin took a deep breath and Arthur could feel the wind and the leafs to turn towards the boy. There was a humming, as birds and knights equally silenced on the spectacle.
Soft skin gleamed with gold as the boy reached out for something – like memories in the wind.
And then, Merlin aged. His body growing into his far too big clothes, his round cheeks hardening into something mature, his limps stretching from his body.
Until he collapsed unto Arthur. Finally – an adult again.
“See? Simple.”, the sorcerer smiled, as he drew in the gaping mouths of his audience.
--------------------
Merlin groaned as he came back to himself. What had happened? He remembered applying a salve to his wounds and then – nothing.
He must have passed out. But damn it, he had fallen very uncomfortably.
“Merlin, could you please get off of me!”, a familiar voice said, before too leather gloves pushed him from his resting place.
“What?”, Merlin asked, upon realizing exactly where he was.
Instantly he shot back up, retreating from his king to give him space, but Arthur was cackling at his expression.
“Honestly, Merlin. Next time you decide to use an aging spell, get off of me first, please.”
Merlin froze. “I used a what now?” He paled, visibly and Arthur seemed to notice. So did the rest of the knights.
The sorcerer was cackling in the background.
Arthur just shook his head. “Just tell me, you never tried to harm Camelot or -”
“I would NEVER!”, Merlin shouted with such conviction, Arthur couldn´t help but agree.
“See? Then it´s fine. But I suppose, you have a lot of explaining to do.
We´re all listening, for once. So do us a favor and start from the beginning, Emrys.”
Merlin opened his mouth like a fish. “Only if you tell me what has happened first.”, he grunted back and Arthur shook his head with laughter.
“I´m sorry. I´m afraid I´m not allowed to tell you. It´s in the knights rules, that I am not allowed to speak of what happens when you carelessly attend the ritual.”
“Ritual? What ritual? I never -”
“The salve, Merlin. Come on, Arthur. Don´t be so ominous. We had a magical salve that turned you into an eight year old. So. That´s all we can say. Now, please. Merlin. From the beginning. We want to know everything.”
Gwaine put his chin into his hands, where he sat cross legged next to the sorcerer.
Arthur rolled his eyes.
“It´s SIR Emrys, now. Gwaine. He´s the most powerful sorcerer of all times. Grand him some respect.”
“But of course, my lord!”, Gwaine bowed in a mock towards Merlin, grinning widely.
At this point, Merlin had already lost whatever was left of his sanity. Because this must be some kind of nightmare.
Then again – if they wanted the whole story – if they knew about his magic and hadn´t attacked him yet -
Maybe it was time.
So, Merlin sat down, right next to the fire and began.
“I must warn you though. This may take a while.”