King Arthur of Camelot rides out to slay a monster that's been terrorising his kingdom. Once he finds it's lair he successfully slays the beast and discovers a frightened child that's been hiding inside the cave.
As he takes the child, Merlin, back with him to the castle, little does he know that Merlin is not a victim but the monster's offspring. By the time Arthur figures out Merlin is developing the same powers as his mother he has grown to love the child and will protect him with everything he has.
Warnings: child!Merlin, which, of course, means absolutely adorable fluff. Older!Sister figure reader which adds another dollop of adorable.
A/N: I shouldn’t be entrusted with childcare under any circumstances. This is coming from a woman who managed to flood her basement, nearly break her washer and dryer, and disintegrate a rug all in the same day. Clearly I am not yet a functioning human. Anyway…
Also, thanks for 400 followers!
In times of war, organization on the battlefield was everything. Row after row of soldiers, as carefully pruned and prodded as a garden hedge, waited neatly on the verge of battle. Such tidiness couldn’t be afforded elsewhere, it seemed.
The physician’s chambers was a whirlwind of books and poultices and soldiers. Things could easily get swallowed whole in the clutter, never to be seen again. Just this morning, you were elbows deep in a pile of papers, searching for a particularly elusive one.
No one was immune to the mired messiness. Even Merlin, usually besotted with orderly chaos, had sunk into just plain chaos. His chambers were a mess; his hair was a mess; his life was a mess.
“Y/N! Y/N? Have you seen my spell book? I can’t find it anywhere!” He panted, clearly tired from running all around to find it.
“I’ve got it, don’t worry.” You chided, pressing it into his hands. Your other hand swept up and smoothed down a rampant lock of hair on Merlin’s forehead. “Found it underneath last year’s census. What it was doing there, I don’t know.”
“Thank you! I’m sure there’s a spell in here that will help us win… It’s quite fascinating, really, what some of these are supposed to be able to do. Did you know this one can be used to make a man dream of his ancestors. Can’t imagine what use that would do, but–”
“Merlin?”
“Yes?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be leaving at noon?” You pointed out. The sun was high in the sky, waiting patiently at its apex until it could sink again. Merlin was late. In a flurry of rushed goodbyes, you escorted Merlin to the door. You didn’t want to see him go. He was your best friend. If anything happened to him… What would you and Gaius do?
“Goodbye, Y/N. I promise we’ll be back soon.” He said, tucking the spell book under his arm.
“Hurry home and be careful.” You reminded him. “Take care of Arthur.”
Merlin grinned and wrapped you into a brief hug with his free arm. You could tell he was excited to get to use his magic, but you could only hope he would apply common sense and not do anything stupid.
“You know me,” he said, “I always do.”
–
Hours passed. You watched; you worried; you waited.
Finally, news.
You jumped a foot out of your chair when you heard the door open. Though it was the middle of the night, you were wide awake, your mind not letting you rest a moment. Gaius trod through the door, looking worse for wear.
“What happened?”
“We won the battle.” He said with a glum disposition. Certainly this isn’t the attitude of one who’s just won? You frowned.
“Gaius, is everything alright? Where’s Merlin?” You asked worriedly.
“He’s here. Well… Sort of.” Gaius sidestepped, revealing a small figure behind him. A child was gripping onto Gaius’s robes with fierce determination.
“Merlin?” Your eyes widened.
“Hi.” He said shyly, his head thrown back nearly all the way so he could look up. Merlin’s eyes were bright and wide, innocently gazing up at you. His face was certainly a lot rounder, with chubbier cheeks, though his ears stuck out all the same.
“He was hit with a spell,” Gaius explained, “and now, it seems, he’s a child again.”
“A child?” You were stunned.
“Y/N,” I need you to take care of him. I need to find a reversal for the spell and, frankly, having a four year old around isn’t going to make it any easier.“ Gaius said, urging Merlin forwards to stand by you. "I need to go to the library.”
“But, Gaius, I don’t have any experience taking care of children,” you lowered your voice, “especially magical children.”
“It’s our Merlin, how bad can it be?” He pushed his lips together in a firm line.
“I don’t know…”
“I promise it won’t be for long. I just need to find the counter spell.”
Before you could protest, the physician had already disappeared down the hallway and back into the night. You shifted your attention to Merlin. By gods, he was short.
He rubbed at his eyes tiredly. It seemed that the spell had hit only him, and not his clothes, for his red tunic swept down to nearly his ankles and his trousers were no where to be found. Even his neckerchief was too large for him, hanging almost off his shoulders.
“Hungry.” Little Merlin said in a small voice.
“Right.” You said, a mild look of panic on your face. Well, the kitchens had to have something left over this time of night, right?
“Okay? Merlin, don’t move. I’ll be right back. I promise.” You told him, swiftly running down to the kitchens. You had a very bad feeling about leaving him alone–children being notoriously irresponsible–and wanted to return as soon as you could.
The head cook was certainly not the most eager to aid you, but she did her job nonetheless and aided you. With a loaded plate balanced precariously on your hands, you hurried back to the physician’s chambers as quickly as feasibly possible.
When you returned, you found Merlin curled up like a cat in one of your laundry baskets, dead asleep. His thumb was in his mouth and the small fingers of his other hand wound around the sleeve of one of your gowns, holding tightly.
Well, you couldn’t wake him up now. You carefully wrapped the plate of food in a cheesecloth in case Merlin wanted it in the morning. Though it was the middle of the night, you were hardly tired. Taking a seat by the laundry basket, you grabbed a book, faintly hearing little Merlin’s breathing.
You may have dozed off, for when you next came around, your book was on the floor and Merlin was squalling. The laundry basket had overturned and he sprawled on the floor, fat tears rolling down his face. He appeared to have had a nightmare.
“B-bad dream.” He cried, clumsily crawling towards your outstretched arms.
“Shh, shh.” You soothed, letting little Merlin climb into your lap and curl up in a ball. His tiny body shook with sobs and you gently rocked him back and forth.
“It’s alright. I promise that everything will be alright.”
When you were a child, you often remembered your own mother singing lullabies to you to calm you to sleep after a nightmare. Perhaps Merlin would like a lullaby. After all, it couldn’t hurt. While you were rocking him, you began humming.
Merlin seemed to like that, so you began signing the actual lullaby. It had been years since you’d heard it, but you remembered it as if it were yesterday your mother had sung you to sleep.
“Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly,
Lavender’s green
When you are King, dilly dilly,
I shall be Queen
Who told you so, dilly dilly,
Who told you so?
‘Twas my own heart, dilly dilly,
That told me so”
You sang softly at first, but gained confidence when Merlin stilled in your arms, relaxing and letting his head droop. His tiny body stilled, his breathing deepening and evening.
Child who's learning his first words from an older, drunk as usual Gwaine. "Do you know what shit means?" (I am not sorry omg)
Merlin looked up at Gwaine. He blinked before shaking his head. "Is that something nice? Tell me what it means." He smiled. "I want to learn and be able to say it to Momma."
