Chapter Text
Of course his reckless servant had to step in the way of the stupid spell…he had no sense of danger, no instinct of self-preservation. Arthur couldn’t be sure what it had done to him, but he feared for the worst. No sound was heard following that thunder-like impact against Merlin’s brittle chest. No scream, no grunt, no groan of pain…For all he knew the spell could have killed him instantly, and just the thought of it was breaking his heart. But then he heard a muffled cry in the distance, seemingly coming from the tree Merlin’s body had been projected to, and his heart was filled up with a faint glimmer of hope. His instincts told him that something wasn't right, but he chose to ignore them. He knew Merlin could be a scaredy-cat at times, but he was never one to cry like a baby in the face of fear. In fact, he had proven just that moments ago. Still, he hoped with every fiber of his being that those sobs were coming from his injured, but pretty much alive friend.
There was no sign of the old sorceress who had inflicted that curse on his friend, but still he proceedded with caution. It wasn’t until he stepped closer to examine his condition that he found out who was really making that sound. Not a baby...but a small child in Merlin’s place. Not big enough for his neckerchief, let alone for his tunic, that was now dangling at his feet. Before the child could spot his presence, he cowardly hid behind the nearest tree. He was ready to find his friend wounded, breathless, bloodstained...but nothing could have prepared him for this. He wasn’t sure how to approach him, or even if it was really him. But, once he managed to get a closer look, all his doubts vanished. The boy had his same nest of dark hair, his same big ears that so often refused to listen to him, and, perhaps most telling of all, the exact same shade of dark blue in his teary eyes...he would recognize those eyes anywhere. There was no denying that it was Merlin, but now no older than five or six years old. And that realisation alone was paralyzing.
Arthur stood there motionless behind the tree for a few minutes more, heart racing, telling himself that he was waiting for the right moment. But, gosh, he couldn’t bear to look at those sad eyes and to hear the boy’s muffled cries any longer. Merlin was clearly overwhelmed by the situation as well. It couldn’t be easy to make sense of suddenly being a little boy again. And, in that moment, Arthur was strangely consumed by an overwhelming urge to hold Merlin in his arms, to tell him that everything would be alright, that they would sort this out together, like they always did. Merlin might be just a child now, but he was still a grown man and he would have to get over himself and muster up the courage to be brave for them both. So he approached the boy slowly so as to not startle him and lowered himself to his knees to meet his sorrowful eyes.
“Shh…It’s ok, everything is going to be alright, Merlin,” he said in the most reassuring tone he could manage, in an attempt to comfort the boy. The little boy sniffed and wiped out his tears on the droopy sleeves of his tunic before looking up, instantly flinching at the sight of Arthur.
“Who are you? And how do you know my name?” The startled boy asked in a distressed tone.
Arthur's heart instantly sank upon hearing the boy's unsettling questions. No sword could have dealt it a stronger blow. And of all the things Merlin could have said, of all the clever insults he could have thrown at him in that moment, nothing could have possibly hurt him more. How could Merlin have forgotten all they had been through together? How could he possibly forget the man he spent most of his days with, the man he had rushed to save just moments ago?
After a long silence, Arthur finally managed to ask the question he wasn't sure he was ready to hear the answer to.
“You don’t know who I am?” His words came out shaky, he couldn't hide the heartbreak in his voice. But he needed a confirmation, he needed to know that his friend was still somewhere in there.
“Oh, I know who you are…", the little boy retorted, and for a moment hope returned to his heart, "…you’re a knight of Camelot! My mother warned me about you. You have no business being here, this is not even your kingdom. Leave me alone!”
'Not even his kingdom?' What was he on about? Arthur was baffled by little Merlin's reaction to seeing a knight. If anything, he should feel safe and relieved by finding a knight on his path eager to help him. But to see him so scared of him, was hurting him more than he would like to admit. Merlin was always so quick to befriend his knights…In fact, he could sworn that some of them were even more loyal to Merlin than they were to him. What could have happened to make him so fearful at the sight of one of his men? Had any of them bullied or harmed Merlin behind his back? No, that was impossible. After all, if any of his knights had recently engaged in bad conduct, he would have been informed by now. But before he could make sense of Merlin’s newfound distrust of knights, the child began running deep into the forest with the speed of a startled stoat, until he was almost out of his sight. Merlin’s new form may be quicker, but Arthur wasn’t going to get outrun by a child. So he swiftly raced after him.
When he finally caught up with him, he managed to sneak up behind him and grab him by the wrist.
“Come on, that's enough, I’m going to get you home,” he said in a somewhat gentle tone, though his patience was wearing thin. But still the child protested.
“Let go of me!” Merlin demanded, while wriggling his arms and kicking his feet at him, in a desperate attempt to free himself from his grasp. But when Arthur refused to give in, he resorted to screaming and crying.
“Help! Mum! Mummy!” The boy repeatedly cried out, his voice getting increasingly more hopeless and shrill every time.
He didn’t mean to further frighten the poor kid, but he had no choice but to cover Merlin’s mouth before the entire forest and the whole of Camelot heard him. It was only a matter of time until someone came to the rescue of that poor little boy, who was being excruciatingly tortured by the sound of it. It certainly didn’t look too good on him. Holding a child against his will like that. And just when he was about to feel sorry for putting Merlin through so much distress, he began to feel the sharp sting of little teeth sinking into his fingers, forcing him to release the hold on his little mouth.
“What the…Did you just bite me?” Arthur blurted out in shock.
“That’s for being a prat! Now let me go, before I start screaming again!” Merlin retorted with a devious grin.
Had it been any other situation and he would have agreed to his request, but he was tired and just wished to go home to fix whatever mess this was. It was unbelievable how tiny Merlin even managed to be more of a prat than his regular self was…to the point that he had actually found himself missing Merlin's usual prattle. Besides, it wasn’t his job to put up with misbehaving little kids.
“That’s enough! Now I’m taking you back to Camelot, whether you like it or not,” he said in a decisive tone, tightening his grasp on the child's wrist and pushing him to move along.
“No! Please, don’t! I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I swear!” The child desperately pleaded, his eyes threatening with tears again.
Now he was fearful of Camelot too? It didn't make any sense. Camelot had been his home for years now. Why could he possibly be scared to return to it? What child would be scared to return home? More and more questions began flooding his mind, when he heard the loudest and most acute scream he had ever heard, apparently coming from the little boy he was holding. Then, the last thing he remembered was a flash of blinding light and an overpowering force pulling his back against the tree a couple feet behind them. The boy was immediately released to the ground by the impact. And even though it took Arthur a couple seconds to regain his conscience, the child stood motionless before him. He didn’t understand why he didn’t take his chance, when he was so eager to run before. But what surprised him most was the sorrowful look forming in the boy’s face as he waited for him to open his eyes.
Had this been Merlin's doing? Was he sad to see him hurt?