Archive of Our Own ^beta

     “Listen to me, Merlin. You cannot use your magic outside the house. There are bad men who would hurt you for it, men who would take you away. Your magic is for emergencies only, do you understand?”

     “Yes, Mama.”

     For two years now, Hunith had drilled that into him, and Merlin tried his absolute best to listen to her. Hunith knew about his magic, but no one else, and Merlin tried to keep it that way, not wanting to disappoint his mama or risk being taken away from her. But Hunith’s son had always been an impulsive boy. Her child had a heart of gold, and even at such a young age, he was not one to stand back and let things happen when he could help.

     So when a wolf got into old Mary’s yard and chased after her two young lambs while they were visiting one day, Hunith saw it coming as Merlin broke free from her. “Merlin!” She called her baby’s name in vain as he paid her no heed and ran towards the lambs.

     The lambs ran toward the house, and Merlin stepped right between them and the oncoming predator, holding his tiny hand up as he shouted. “No!” Power erupted from his small frame as his voice echoed across the field, and the wolf went flying, tumbling across the grass with a yelp before picking itself up and limping away with a whimper.

     For a moment, it was quiet, and then Hunith heard a thud and turned to find Mary on the stoop, her broom on the stone in front of her. “Mary.” Hunith started quietly but didn't get any further as the old lady turned and fled into her home.

     Hunith rushed after her, afraid of Mary panicking and spilling their secrets. She managed to get to the door before it fully closed, putting a foot in the jamb before Merlin's voice behind her granted her pause.

     “Mama?” His voice wavered, her child sounding downright terrified as he spoke. “I-I'm sorry! It was a ‘mergency!” He wailed, sniffling hard as Hunith felt him hug her leg. “Don't let them take me, Mama! I'm sorry!”

     Tears stung at her eyes, and Hunith blinked them away, pulling herself together as she turned and knelt down, placing her hands on Merlin's shoulders. “No one is taking you away, Merlin.” She said firmly, gripping his chin to make him look at her, her heart breaking at the desperate look in his eyes. She pulled him close, hugging him tight as he cried. “It's all right. It was an emergency; it's not your fault.” She soothed, letting him cling to her for a moment longer before pulling away. “Listen to me, Merlin. I want you to go home. Right now. Straight home, lock the door, and wait for me. Now go!” She ordered, sending her child off with a heavy heart.

     Once he was gone, she stood, opening the door to Mary's cottage. Her eyes were trained on the floor as she stepped inside, and her voice was choked with grief as she spoke. “I'm sorry you had to see that, Mary.” She muttered, slowly raising her head to stare the old woman in the eyes.

     Horror was painted on the woman's face, but that meant little as the old woman gasped out, “Hunith, please. That child is evil! You saw what he did! It's not natural!”

     The words were careless, bigoted, and twisted with hatred, and rage compounded the terror that was flooding Hunith's veins. “That child is my son!” She shouted, rushing the older woman. “I won't let you hurt him!” Panic had a solid grip on Hunith now, and the thin veneer of safety she'd built crumbled like sand between her fingers as adrenaline flooded her veins. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she grappled with Mary, drowning out the old woman's protests and pleas as Hunith pushed her down onto her cot.

     She had to protect Merlin. She had to keep her son safe. She'd promised herself the day he was born that she'd do anything to guarantee his safety. Anything. Merlin would be safe. She would be sure of it.

     Hunith's vision was blurred with tears as she pressed a pillow to Mary’s face and held it there, her own sobs muted to her ears as her heartbeat thundered with fear. She had to protect her child. Merlin had to be safe.

     Time slowed like molasses as Hunith waited for Mary's struggling to stop, for her hands to stop scratching at her arms in favor of falling limp at her sides. For Mary’s body to twitch and jolt in desperate need of oxygen before it went deathly still.

     Hunith's chest was heaving, breaths wet and heavy when her adrenaline started to wane, and her heartbeat slowly faded from her ears. With trepidation, she pulled the pillow away from Mary's face, took one look at her face, and promptly burst into tears once more. Her sobs wracked her body, and Hunith’s stomach threatened to empty itself as her cries crescendoed into an inconsolable cacophony.

     At length, she got up and tucked Mary into her bed properly. She cleaned Mary's hands, as well as the scratches that had been left on her arms. She went outside and put the lambs in their pen. Finally, Hunith headed home and took Merlin into her arms, holding him for hours until his trembling and cries died out, assuring him through the lump in her throat that everything would be okay.

     When the next day came with the news that Mary had been found dead, having passed in her sleep, Hunith endured the guilt and the worry, only flinching at the way Merlin had looked between her and the messenger before his eyes had gone wide with understanding.

     A week passed with Merlin barely talking after that, and Hunith was too scared to address it. Then, on the eighth day, they were at Will's family's house, and a fox attacked the hen house while the boys were playing nearby. Fear gripped Hunith's heart as she hurried outside to Will's shouts, finding the boy throwing stones at the fox as it got away with one of its trophies in its mouth. Meanwhile, Merlin was kneeling by the henhouse, a mangled and bloodied yellow ball of fluff in his hands as he cried silently, his body shaking hard with his sobs.

     That night, Hunith held Merlin in her arms as he mourned the chick's death and pleaded for reassurance that he'd done the right thing- that he saved Will by not saving the chickens.

     “Yes, Merlin,” She assured him, running her fingers through his hair. “You did the right thing,” Hunith said, closing her eyes as she wished someone would give her the same reassurance. She had saved her child. She made sure that Merlin was safe, but Hunith couldn’t help but see the blood on her hands, the way it stained her fingers, the way it rubbed off onto Merlin with every gentle touch. She had kept her promise, but at what cost?