Chapter Text
Within the looming presence of an unmarked cemetery, a mother in mourning knelt beside a newly turned grave, tears carving rivulets down her grief-stricken face. As the setting sun dipped beneath the horizon, it bestowed a solemn glow upon the burial site. The wind, a soft mourner in the stillness, wove through the aging tombstones, carrying with it the poignant echoes of pain and sorrow.
Eleanor, her heart heavy with grief, clutched a small, silver amulet in her withered hands. The inscription etched upon it bore a solemn assurance of love and gratitude. With fingers trembling, she delicately traced the words engraved on the chilled metal, her voice breaking the silent air with heartfelt utterances.
"I can't accept this, my dear Marcus," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Not without a fight. I won't let you be taken from me so easily." Her pain turned to anger, the determination burning deep in her brown eyes.
The wind rustled through the leaves, as if nature itself mourned with her. Eleanor looked down at the grave, the reality of loss sinking in. Her son, Marcus, had been a bright light in her life, one that had been extinguished too soon. His laughter, his dreams, his future—all now confined to the earth.
Determined, the old woman stood, wiping away her tears. She raised the amulet to the sky, a silent plea to the unknown forces that governed life and death.
"I will bring you back, my son. I swear it," she declared, her voice carrying a desperate resolve.
As if in response, the air crackled with an otherworldly energy as her eyes glowed a vibrant gold.
"I will need a vessel,” she muttered to herself as she turned away from the grave, the pain too much to bear, "to form a bridge between this realm and the next. One who mirrors my son… I will find him, and we shall soon be reunited.”
The air seemed to still, holding its breath as if the very elements listened to Eleanor's plea. Then, in the distance an owl hooted, breaking the silence, and Eleanor felt a shiver run down her spine. It was a sign that her words had not fallen on deaf ears.
With newfound purpose, Eleanor left the graveside, the amulet still clutched tightly in her hand. The moon cast long shadows as she disappeared into the night, her figure silhouetted against the ancient stones.
---
“MERLIN!”
Morning had long since dawned over the city of Camelot, casting a warm glow on the stone walls of the castle. Merlin, with a tray of the prince’s breakfast in hand, hurried through the bustling halls, his footsteps echoing over the noise of the other servants going about their duties – though they went about theirs in a much calmer manner. The tray wafted the aroma of freshly baked bread and sizzling sausages.
As Merlin rounded a corner, he spotted Gwen attending to a bouquet of flowers in a vase. He flashed her a quick smile, "Morning, Gwen!"
"Good morning, Merlin," Gwen replied, returning the smile. She chuckled at the sight of his urgency. ”Late again, I take it?”
Merlin gave her a cheeky grin. “Me, late? Never!”
Before he could exchange more small talk with his friend, Arthur's voice echoed through the halls, reverberating with irritation. "Merlin!"
Merlin winced, the tray rattling in his hands. "Right, coming!" He gave Gwen a guilty smile, “See you later, Gwen.” He darted down the corridor before she could respond, navigating the castle's twists and turns with practiced speed.
He grinned as he passed by the guards stationed at Arthur's chamber door, greeting them with a breathless, "Morning, lads!"
One of the guards smirked, leaning casually against the wall. "How the prince has not sacked you yet, I’ll never know.” .
Merlin chuckled at their familiar routine. "He wouldn’t last a day without me,” he countered as he maneuvered the tray over to one arm so he could fumble with the door. ”He’d be far too bored.”
As he turned the handle to Arthur's door, he straightened his posture and took a deep breath. He entered to find Arthur standing by the window with an impatient scowl on his face as he looked outside.
"Finally!" Arthur exclaimed, turning to face Merlin upon hearing the door open. "I've been calling you for ages. Where have you been?"
Merlin rolled his eyes at the demand. ”Sorry, sire," he apologized half-heartedly as he placed the tray on Arthur’s dining table."Just a bit... caught up is all. The chef was on a tirade this morning, going off at the kitchen staff for..."
With a shake of his head, Arthur tuned out Merlin’s excessive ramblings as per usual. The prince took a seat so he could have his meal before training. As much as he liked to complain about Merlin’s tardiness, he was secretly grateful for it, as it usually meant he’d get a few extra minutes of sleep, that was unless it caused him to be late to training or meetings.
As Arthur ate, something caught his attention and irked him, ”Merlin…” His tone exasperated as he glared with annoyance up to Merlin, who halted in pulling off the blankets and sheets from the bed.
“Yes, my lord?” He called back with faux innocence.
“Why are there two less sausages on my plate than there should be?”
Merlin raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, you see, sire, the sausages have been known to vanish mysteriously in the presence of an insatiable appetite. It's a well-known phenomenon."
Arthur shot him a look of disbelief, "You're insufferable."
Merlin grinned with a sarcastic retort, "And yet, here I still am, your ever loyal servant, ready to tend to your every whim."
Arthur continued to grumble about the missing sausages and useless, thieving manservants as he returned to his meal. Merlin chuckled to himself and returned to collecting the dirty laundry, knowing full well that Arthur didn’t truly care anymore.
The manservant lifted the basket and made his way to the door. Of course he had to give off one more jibe at his prince, ”Look on the bright side, at least you’ll stay in shape. We don’t want the knights to notice any more extra holes in your belt.”
Merlin’s eyes widened as he hurriedly ducked out of the door, only for a mostly filled chalice to strike where his head had been. He poked his head back in to look at the mess, ”I’m not cleaning that up-”
“MERLIN!”
With a snicker, Merlin hurried off to deliver the laundry to the castle's laundry room, leaving behind a fuming Arthur and a mess that would undoubtedly be left for him to deal with later.
He chatted up the laundress for a few moments as he delivered the load, always happy to partake in a bit of castle gossip. As he turned to leave, he noticed one of the castle staff, a young woman who had been working washing clothes for several years now, teaching her young daughter how to fold clothes properly. Merlin’s heart ached, the feeling of missing his mother ebbed its way into his chest. He’d been in Camelot for nearly two years and had only seen his mother once in that entire time- and even then it was only because he had to fight off Kanen’s group of bandits.
He sighed dejectedly before turning and walking out the room and to the hall. He didn’t usually have time to miss his home or mother, between his duties to Arthur and Gaius along with his destiny, he was always worked to exhaustion by Arthur and Gaius without so much as a moment to rest. Normally it didn’t bother him that much, it was just the way it was. But it was moments like this, where he would see someone that just reminded him of what he left behind, and he couldn’t help but feel homesick.