No matter how small! (tobreakthespell; gen, pg)
Title: No matter how small!
Contributor: plumora
Medium: Fic
Fairytale Prompt: Issun-bōshi
Pairings/rating: Gen, with background Balinor/Hunith and Uther/Igraine; rated PG
Spoilers/warnings: For small details in 2.13; warning for ogres and a much more cheerful Camelot than is depicted in the show
Word count: 2,167 words
Author's note: Beta credit goes to infernallysly. The title and a portion of the summary text (and one line in the fic itself) come from Horton Hears a Who, by Dr. Seuss.
Summary: A person's a person, no matter how small. Being a sorcerer helps.
No matter how small! After Hunith lost the child, everything fell apart. Though midsummer had just passed, she often felt cold at night; though she slept next to Balinor, she had never felt more distant towards her own husband. The nights were endless. She hardly slept, and when she did, she was plagued by nightmares.
The days weren't much better, as images from her nightmares replayed themselves in Hunith's mind. She continued her duties in the village, against Balinor's admonitions. She could tell the other women sensed something awry with her, yet they never approached her, and Hunith would never tell them what had happened.
One day, out in the fields, she heard the song of a merlin in the air. Squinting against the sun, she saw the falcon, his black tail dipping in and out of the air as he soared. She collapsed as she watched him, her weak legs giving way beneath her. The other women fluttered about her like birds, crying out. Balinor's voice broke through the calls, and, picking her up, he carried Hunith to their home.
"Hunith," he whispered to her. "Don't let go."
Her eyes fluttered briefly; her hand was cold and small in Balinor's own. "I want a child," she groaned. Tears ran down the sides of her face. "No matter how small. Just one child."
Somewhere above the tiny house, the merlin's song ceased altogether.
* * *
Hunith flopped down exhaustedly on the ground, tired from the midsummer's eve celebrations. The merlin, the one she had seen nearly a year before, had strengthened her, had given her hope. The very next day after she had seen him, she had remembered his melody, and the song her father had always sung to her in her youth.
"Shouldn't such a lovely lady be dancing?" asked a voice behind her.
Hunith smiled. "This lady is tired from the sport; her husband has made her dance with him for every song."
Balinor kissed the top of her head and sat down next to her. "'Tis because you look beautiful when you dance."
"I can't dance too much, even if I wanted to," Hunith said, lowering her voice. "I am with child."
Balinor's smile quickly faded. "Are you sure?"
"Of course." She looked at him, the light from the bonfire reflecting in her eyes. "I won't lose him this time." Hunith grabbed Balinor's hand and kissed the back of it.
"I hope not," Balinor said. "I hope you do not lose him, with all my heart. I could not stand to lose my child and my wife, for a second time. I could not bear it."
"I know," Hunith whispered. "I know."
* * *
Hunith smiled when she saw her son.
The midwife held him in the palm of her hand: a child the size of a leaf shoot; but a child, nonetheless.
* * *
"I would swear it, Balinor; the merlin granted my wish for a child. He sang the song my father always sang to me when I was a girl. He granted my wish."
"I do not pretend to understand it; such a creature in Ealdor... It would be worth all the gold in the world to be able to learn from such a bird. The boy is beautiful, though. You just have to squint to see him."
Hunith smiled. "Aye," she said. "Perhaps we can learn from this bird, instead. I wish to name him Merlin."
Balinor looked from his wife to the child in her hands.
"Merlin," he said. "So it is." He kissed his thumb and put it to the boy's little bald head.
* * *
The other boys always laughed when he wielded the sword. (Okay, so it was a sharp bit of metal with a handle, but it hurt - Merlin could attest to that.)
"Merlin, come on!" Will urged. "Cedric isn't worth it."
Merlin ignored Will and rushed at Cedric anyway. He didn't strike him, but Cedric cried out and fell to the ground. Merlin noticed his sword was emitting cinder-like sparks.
Before he could make anything of it, Will had scooped him up and was carrying him away.
"You might have told me you could do magic before, you idiot!"
Merlin stared at his sword, wide-eyed. "I didn't know!" The sword wasn't spitting out sparks any longer, but the blade was now glowing a dim red color.
* * *
"What should we do?"
Balinor glanced at where Merlin was sleeping in his miniature bed, and then looked at Hunith.
"He should be trained, of course. Natural magic can be dangerous if it isn't tamed. And it would greatly be to his advantage to harness it, given his size."
"Could you do it? Could you teach him?"
"I fear not; I could try my best, but I had a hard time controlling my own magic when I was younger. I see that in him. He'd be best off at Camelot; 'tis where I learned my craft."
* * *
So it was that, years later, Merlin found himself sitting on the edge of the pigs' water trough, watching his father put the finishing touches on Merlin's new sword. Merlin was preparing to leave for Camelot, the place where, his father had said, he could learn to tame his magic, harness it so that it was controllable and yet become powerful. He had already picked up some knowledge from his father, but his magic was still unruly, and he could hardly stop it from coming to life whenever he became impassioned; Cedric had long ago learned to keep away from him - or, at the very least, not to provoke him.
Unfortunately, he had to make the journey alone, as it was spring, and the people of Ealdor had their duties to the land. Merlin, having set some of the previous year's crops on fire, and having just seen his twenty-first winter, decided that it was as good a time as any to set off for Camelot. The green of the trees and the grass was astounding; the ice and snow had all melted away. Flowers bloomed on the hills ahead of Merlin as he began his journey, humming a familiar tune, watching life begin anew around him.
* * *
All was well on his journey - he had managed to evade the birds of morning, who seemed fond of poking at such small creatures as himself, and had made friends with the squirrels and raccoons he met along the way. He was as near Camelot as he had ever been, and suspected it was but a few days' journeying until he reached the city... when he was nearly mistaken for prey in a forest, and narrowly avoided an arrow through his middle.
Merlin looked up at the men surrounding him, as he stood up and brushed himself off.
"And who might you be?" one man asked, squatting down to look at Merlin better.
"I am from Ealdor," Merlin said, bowing his head and quickly regaining his stature with pride. "My parents have sent me to Camelot to learn magic. My name is Merlin."
"Is that so?" the man asked. Merlin nodded. "Then it is my duty to welcome you," the man continued, "for I am Prince Arthur, son of King Uther of Camelot."
* * *
Merlin caught his first glimpse of the castle from where he was leaning into the neck of the Prince's horse. It wasn't a particularly good view, but the Prince sensed his discomfort and halted, turning the horse to the side so Merlin could see the castle in all its glory.
"Wow," he said. He could practically feel Prince Arthur smiling behind him.
"Indeed," the Prince said, and they rode on.
* * *
Merlin was embraced with the utmost enthusiasm at the castle, much to his surprise. The King and Queen seemed to revere him for his ability, and no one mentioned his size - in fact, it seemed as if no one had noticed he was only as tall as a man's palm.
Gaius was to be his mentor; the man was both the Court Physician and the Court Sorcerer. He was, Merlin learned, the very reason Arthur was alive; magic had played a part in the births of both the Prince and Merlin. When they learned this similarity, the two of them began to grow to be friends; in fact, it almost seemed as though they might be brothers.
Merlin's time at Camelot was spent roaming the castle grounds in search of various flowers and herbs for Gaius's potions and staying up late studying spells and their uses and practicing them. So far, he had managed to brew an excellent sleeping draught, turn Queen Igraine's hair a color to match her dress (accidentally - and luckily, she was amused), and, in a moment of frustration at not having achieved the spell he was then studying, he had turned one of the statues in the courtyard into the very dog it resembled. He had so far been unsuccessful at turning it back, and Gaius was forcing him to care for it. Fortunately, Stanley had at once decided that he didn't like the way Merlin tasted.
* * *
One morning, as Merlin was cleaning in nooks and crannies of the shelf of chemicals - with the aid of magic, against Gaius's instructions - Arthur entered Gaius's chambers.
"I'm going hunting," he announced. "Merlin?"
"Here," Merlin said, coming out from behind a particularly large, unlabelled vial. Arthur came over to the shelf.
"Would you like to join me?"
"Hunting? I'd hardly be of any help. Besides, you might kill me. Remember last time?"
Arthur smiled. "Give me cheek and you won't have to worry about me inviting you anywhere. No, I've had Tom make you a crossbow and a spear. I thought having your company on a hunting trip might be useful; you could easily hide, and injure an enemy before it sees a man as myself."
"So you want to use my size to your advantage?" Merlin asked, raising his eyebrows. "You know, I'm starting to think you keep me around for a reason, and not just because you actually like me."
"Yeah," Arthur said, and left, smiling. Merlin sighed and climbed down the ladder. Gaius never gave him a break, even when it was the Prince who took him away from his chores.
* * *
The ogre towered over Arthur, a horrendous smell coming off its greenish skin. It looked from Arthur to the man sitting on his shoulder, confused. Without wasting a second, Arthur struck at the ogre, but it knocked the sword out of his grasp. Merlin fell from Arthur's shoulder and landed on the ground with an oomph. He reached for his crossbow and shot the ogre in the foot as it tried to trample him. A subsequent shot by Arthur into the ogre's eye caused it to howl in pain.
Reaching down blindly, the ogre managed to grab Merlin around his middle. Merlin couldn't reach for his sword before the ogre had tossed him into its mouth and swallowed him whole.
Arthur froze. "Merlin!" he cried. But the ogre had triumphed and was now advancing toward Arthur. He held up his crossbow, but could find no suitable place to shoot that would mortally wound it and not harm Merlin - assuming Merlin was alive.
Suddenly, the creature cried out again. It bent over and, as it did, Arthur saw a tiny sword sticking out of its torso. It fell to the ground, blood and guts and Merlin spilling out.
"Merlin!" Arthur cried again.
"Yuck," was Merlin's reply. Arthur laughed and picked him up, and they returned to the castle.
* * *
When they got there, Arthur recounted their adventure to Uther and Igraine. Merlin, having just bathed - twice - to rid himself of ogre breath and ogre innards, bowed deeply.
"What honor can we give such a brave man?" Igraine asked of him. "And don't say 'nothing.'"
"Then I ask for no thing in return for doing what was my duty."
"Then we shall give you two things," Uther said, laughing. "I first shall bestow upon you the honorary knighthood you so deserve. The second thing is that I ask that you remain here at Camelot, indefinitely. The entire castle values your presence; and so I ask that you continue to remain here."
Merlin frowned. "And may I never return home to Ealdor? For I left so much there, and..."
"Of course you may!" Igraine said. "Whenever your family needs you, or you them, you may leave. We only ask that you always remember your family here as well."
Merlin smiled and bowed his head quickly. "Of course, Your Majesty."
* * *
That evening, Merlin found the right spell to turn Stanley back into the statue he'd always been.
He didn't, though. A knight needed his steed... and anyway, it was lonelier without him.
Contributor: plumora
Medium: Fic
Fairytale Prompt: Issun-bōshi
Pairings/rating: Gen, with background Balinor/Hunith and Uther/Igraine; rated PG
Spoilers/warnings: For small details in 2.13; warning for ogres and a much more cheerful Camelot than is depicted in the show
Word count: 2,167 words
Author's note: Beta credit goes to infernallysly. The title and a portion of the summary text (and one line in the fic itself) come from Horton Hears a Who, by Dr. Seuss.
Summary: A person's a person, no matter how small. Being a sorcerer helps.
No matter how small! After Hunith lost the child, everything fell apart. Though midsummer had just passed, she often felt cold at night; though she slept next to Balinor, she had never felt more distant towards her own husband. The nights were endless. She hardly slept, and when she did, she was plagued by nightmares.
The days weren't much better, as images from her nightmares replayed themselves in Hunith's mind. She continued her duties in the village, against Balinor's admonitions. She could tell the other women sensed something awry with her, yet they never approached her, and Hunith would never tell them what had happened.
One day, out in the fields, she heard the song of a merlin in the air. Squinting against the sun, she saw the falcon, his black tail dipping in and out of the air as he soared. She collapsed as she watched him, her weak legs giving way beneath her. The other women fluttered about her like birds, crying out. Balinor's voice broke through the calls, and, picking her up, he carried Hunith to their home.
"Hunith," he whispered to her. "Don't let go."
Her eyes fluttered briefly; her hand was cold and small in Balinor's own. "I want a child," she groaned. Tears ran down the sides of her face. "No matter how small. Just one child."
Somewhere above the tiny house, the merlin's song ceased altogether.
* * *
Hunith flopped down exhaustedly on the ground, tired from the midsummer's eve celebrations. The merlin, the one she had seen nearly a year before, had strengthened her, had given her hope. The very next day after she had seen him, she had remembered his melody, and the song her father had always sung to her in her youth.
"Shouldn't such a lovely lady be dancing?" asked a voice behind her.
Hunith smiled. "This lady is tired from the sport; her husband has made her dance with him for every song."
Balinor kissed the top of her head and sat down next to her. "'Tis because you look beautiful when you dance."
"I can't dance too much, even if I wanted to," Hunith said, lowering her voice. "I am with child."
Balinor's smile quickly faded. "Are you sure?"
"Of course." She looked at him, the light from the bonfire reflecting in her eyes. "I won't lose him this time." Hunith grabbed Balinor's hand and kissed the back of it.
"I hope not," Balinor said. "I hope you do not lose him, with all my heart. I could not stand to lose my child and my wife, for a second time. I could not bear it."
"I know," Hunith whispered. "I know."
* * *
Hunith smiled when she saw her son.
The midwife held him in the palm of her hand: a child the size of a leaf shoot; but a child, nonetheless.
* * *
"I would swear it, Balinor; the merlin granted my wish for a child. He sang the song my father always sang to me when I was a girl. He granted my wish."
"I do not pretend to understand it; such a creature in Ealdor... It would be worth all the gold in the world to be able to learn from such a bird. The boy is beautiful, though. You just have to squint to see him."
Hunith smiled. "Aye," she said. "Perhaps we can learn from this bird, instead. I wish to name him Merlin."
Balinor looked from his wife to the child in her hands.
"Merlin," he said. "So it is." He kissed his thumb and put it to the boy's little bald head.
* * *
The other boys always laughed when he wielded the sword. (Okay, so it was a sharp bit of metal with a handle, but it hurt - Merlin could attest to that.)
"Merlin, come on!" Will urged. "Cedric isn't worth it."
Merlin ignored Will and rushed at Cedric anyway. He didn't strike him, but Cedric cried out and fell to the ground. Merlin noticed his sword was emitting cinder-like sparks.
Before he could make anything of it, Will had scooped him up and was carrying him away.
"You might have told me you could do magic before, you idiot!"
Merlin stared at his sword, wide-eyed. "I didn't know!" The sword wasn't spitting out sparks any longer, but the blade was now glowing a dim red color.
* * *
"What should we do?"
Balinor glanced at where Merlin was sleeping in his miniature bed, and then looked at Hunith.
"He should be trained, of course. Natural magic can be dangerous if it isn't tamed. And it would greatly be to his advantage to harness it, given his size."
"Could you do it? Could you teach him?"
"I fear not; I could try my best, but I had a hard time controlling my own magic when I was younger. I see that in him. He'd be best off at Camelot; 'tis where I learned my craft."
* * *
So it was that, years later, Merlin found himself sitting on the edge of the pigs' water trough, watching his father put the finishing touches on Merlin's new sword. Merlin was preparing to leave for Camelot, the place where, his father had said, he could learn to tame his magic, harness it so that it was controllable and yet become powerful. He had already picked up some knowledge from his father, but his magic was still unruly, and he could hardly stop it from coming to life whenever he became impassioned; Cedric had long ago learned to keep away from him - or, at the very least, not to provoke him.
Unfortunately, he had to make the journey alone, as it was spring, and the people of Ealdor had their duties to the land. Merlin, having set some of the previous year's crops on fire, and having just seen his twenty-first winter, decided that it was as good a time as any to set off for Camelot. The green of the trees and the grass was astounding; the ice and snow had all melted away. Flowers bloomed on the hills ahead of Merlin as he began his journey, humming a familiar tune, watching life begin anew around him.
* * *
All was well on his journey - he had managed to evade the birds of morning, who seemed fond of poking at such small creatures as himself, and had made friends with the squirrels and raccoons he met along the way. He was as near Camelot as he had ever been, and suspected it was but a few days' journeying until he reached the city... when he was nearly mistaken for prey in a forest, and narrowly avoided an arrow through his middle.
Merlin looked up at the men surrounding him, as he stood up and brushed himself off.
"And who might you be?" one man asked, squatting down to look at Merlin better.
"I am from Ealdor," Merlin said, bowing his head and quickly regaining his stature with pride. "My parents have sent me to Camelot to learn magic. My name is Merlin."
"Is that so?" the man asked. Merlin nodded. "Then it is my duty to welcome you," the man continued, "for I am Prince Arthur, son of King Uther of Camelot."
* * *
Merlin caught his first glimpse of the castle from where he was leaning into the neck of the Prince's horse. It wasn't a particularly good view, but the Prince sensed his discomfort and halted, turning the horse to the side so Merlin could see the castle in all its glory.
"Wow," he said. He could practically feel Prince Arthur smiling behind him.
"Indeed," the Prince said, and they rode on.
* * *
Merlin was embraced with the utmost enthusiasm at the castle, much to his surprise. The King and Queen seemed to revere him for his ability, and no one mentioned his size - in fact, it seemed as if no one had noticed he was only as tall as a man's palm.
Gaius was to be his mentor; the man was both the Court Physician and the Court Sorcerer. He was, Merlin learned, the very reason Arthur was alive; magic had played a part in the births of both the Prince and Merlin. When they learned this similarity, the two of them began to grow to be friends; in fact, it almost seemed as though they might be brothers.
Merlin's time at Camelot was spent roaming the castle grounds in search of various flowers and herbs for Gaius's potions and staying up late studying spells and their uses and practicing them. So far, he had managed to brew an excellent sleeping draught, turn Queen Igraine's hair a color to match her dress (accidentally - and luckily, she was amused), and, in a moment of frustration at not having achieved the spell he was then studying, he had turned one of the statues in the courtyard into the very dog it resembled. He had so far been unsuccessful at turning it back, and Gaius was forcing him to care for it. Fortunately, Stanley had at once decided that he didn't like the way Merlin tasted.
* * *
One morning, as Merlin was cleaning in nooks and crannies of the shelf of chemicals - with the aid of magic, against Gaius's instructions - Arthur entered Gaius's chambers.
"I'm going hunting," he announced. "Merlin?"
"Here," Merlin said, coming out from behind a particularly large, unlabelled vial. Arthur came over to the shelf.
"Would you like to join me?"
"Hunting? I'd hardly be of any help. Besides, you might kill me. Remember last time?"
Arthur smiled. "Give me cheek and you won't have to worry about me inviting you anywhere. No, I've had Tom make you a crossbow and a spear. I thought having your company on a hunting trip might be useful; you could easily hide, and injure an enemy before it sees a man as myself."
"So you want to use my size to your advantage?" Merlin asked, raising his eyebrows. "You know, I'm starting to think you keep me around for a reason, and not just because you actually like me."
"Yeah," Arthur said, and left, smiling. Merlin sighed and climbed down the ladder. Gaius never gave him a break, even when it was the Prince who took him away from his chores.
* * *
The ogre towered over Arthur, a horrendous smell coming off its greenish skin. It looked from Arthur to the man sitting on his shoulder, confused. Without wasting a second, Arthur struck at the ogre, but it knocked the sword out of his grasp. Merlin fell from Arthur's shoulder and landed on the ground with an oomph. He reached for his crossbow and shot the ogre in the foot as it tried to trample him. A subsequent shot by Arthur into the ogre's eye caused it to howl in pain.
Reaching down blindly, the ogre managed to grab Merlin around his middle. Merlin couldn't reach for his sword before the ogre had tossed him into its mouth and swallowed him whole.
Arthur froze. "Merlin!" he cried. But the ogre had triumphed and was now advancing toward Arthur. He held up his crossbow, but could find no suitable place to shoot that would mortally wound it and not harm Merlin - assuming Merlin was alive.
Suddenly, the creature cried out again. It bent over and, as it did, Arthur saw a tiny sword sticking out of its torso. It fell to the ground, blood and guts and Merlin spilling out.
"Merlin!" Arthur cried again.
"Yuck," was Merlin's reply. Arthur laughed and picked him up, and they returned to the castle.
* * *
When they got there, Arthur recounted their adventure to Uther and Igraine. Merlin, having just bathed - twice - to rid himself of ogre breath and ogre innards, bowed deeply.
"What honor can we give such a brave man?" Igraine asked of him. "And don't say 'nothing.'"
"Then I ask for no thing in return for doing what was my duty."
"Then we shall give you two things," Uther said, laughing. "I first shall bestow upon you the honorary knighthood you so deserve. The second thing is that I ask that you remain here at Camelot, indefinitely. The entire castle values your presence; and so I ask that you continue to remain here."
Merlin frowned. "And may I never return home to Ealdor? For I left so much there, and..."
"Of course you may!" Igraine said. "Whenever your family needs you, or you them, you may leave. We only ask that you always remember your family here as well."
Merlin smiled and bowed his head quickly. "Of course, Your Majesty."
* * *
That evening, Merlin found the right spell to turn Stanley back into the statue he'd always been.
He didn't, though. A knight needed his steed... and anyway, it was lonelier without him.