The harvest season, and with it Samhain, was an odd time for Merlin. It was between summer and winter and Merlin often felt the earth settling down and going to sleep. Waking in the morning was sometimes confusing and disorienting until Merlin got used to the more subtle ebb and flow of the world. When he lived in Ealdor, there were many chores that needed to be done to distract Merlin from thinking too deeply. There was always food to be harvested and stored and winter to prepare for. Otherwise, Merlin would find himself staring off into the distance, mind blank.

Then there was the real problem with the harvest season. His Mother had always told him that the Veil between the living and the dead became thin around Samhain and it was best to keep your wits about you. His Mother had no idea. Merlin had been about five years old when he had seen Mrs. Cobbs stomping up the path toward her house. The only probably was that old Mrs. Cobbs had died in the spring. Merlin had screamed for ten minutes straight and been inconsolable for hours afterward. The event was later added to the long list of things that made little Merlin very strange indeed to the village folk of Ealdor.

This was to be the first Samhain with Merlin in Camelot and that made him very nervous. The potential for slip ups was huge and if he caused suspicion to fall upon him then he was good as dead. Apparently, Samhain made King Uther twitchy. The notorious witch holiday made the elder Pendragon see magic in every corner of the castle. The harvest atmosphere was strangely subdued from what Merlin was used to in Ealdor. Even in the village, they had sung and danced on that night. They had hung berries and brightly colored leaves around their windows and doors and carved out turnips and gourds for lanterns. Those in the castle seemed content to watch the day pass without marking it in anyway.

Merlin rested a hand upon the window edge and looked out into the courtyard. He felt uneasy and off balance. There was something weird in Camelot he was not used to. Maybe it was the press of people or the odd attitude regarding the holiday. Or, it could be that the season apparently caused Arthur to be more of a prat than usual. Merlin felt hands grab at his sides and screamed. The cry echoed off the walls and was joined by loud laughter. Merlin spun to glare at the prince. "Arthur! Stop doing that!"

Arthur grinned at Merlin. "It's not my fault you were woolgathering again, Merlin. You leave yourself wide open to attack. What man could resist?"

Merlin had been trying to figure out a way to the stables without having to go through the cloisters. There were shadows there that disturbed him. But the prince didn't need to know that. Merlin scowled at Arthur. "You just enjoy making people miserable, you prat," he snapped. He was in a foul mood and didn't want to deal with Arthur right then. Merlin turned and stormed away.

Unhappily, Arthur followed. Because he was a prat and only existed to make Merlin's life more difficult. "You can't speak to me like that." Merlin didn't respond. Arthur said those words to him a lot and they had lost any heat a long time ago. "I thought I told you to go see to the horses."

Merlin winced at that. He had been taking roundabout routes to almost everywhere the past few days. It was getting ridiculous but Merlin did not want to have any contact with the shadows he's been seeing increasingly around the castle. He had a bad feeling he knew who they were. He would have to leave the castle proper and go around to a side entrance to get to the stables. He would get odd looks from the guards on duty but then he always got odd looks from the guards. "Yes, sire. And I am going to do that right after I get a drink from the kitchen," Merlin said placidly.

Arthur stopped on the top of some stairs as Merlin continued down them. "I think you may be getting more useless by the minute, Merlin!" called the prince. Merlin ignored him and sped around the corner out of sight.

*****

The castle was silent as Merlin fell into bed that night. Thankfully, there appeared to be no spirits or shadows lurking in Gaius' workshop. Merlin tugged up the blanket and snuggled down against the chill in the air. The last few days had been tiring, to say the least. He felt like he had walked every inch of the castle, attempting to not be where the shadows were, and Arthur had been more frustrating than normal. To say nothing of his father, King Uther. Yesterday, a young woman had been executed for making corn dollies. The day before that, a man for doing a harvest ritual in his fields. It made Merlin sick and he buried his face in his pillow.

Merlin didn't know for how long he had slept when something startled him awake. Some sort of noise drifted to his ears and he sat up groggily. At first, he thought the crying was from Gaius and almost leapt from the bed but after a moment he placed the sound as female. Who was crying so harshly? Merlin got up and crept to the door. He peeked through but Gaius was asleep in his bed and the workroom was otherwise empty. So, not a patient or their family then.

Merlin almost went back to bed but the crying was so heartbreaking that he slipped on his shoes and quietly left. What if someone was hurt? He should help them. It was simple reasoning to Merlin. He followed the sounds down the stairs and through a corridor. Once, he had to backtrack and choose another archway when his way was blocked by a gathering of shadows. Merlin was some distance away from his room when he realized that there was no possible physical way he could have heard the crying from his bed. He paused and thought about turning back. This was no normal person crying and this was no normal night to be wandering about the castle.

Merlin kept going. Many of the spirits he had seen around Samhain had made sounds and even spoken to him. This one just happened to be sobbing their heart out. Well, if they had a heart to sob out. Merlin followed the weeping to a door and pressed his ear against the wood. Yes, whoever was making the noise was inside. "Hello?" he muttered at the door, feeling foolish. "Hello? Is anyone there?" he asked louder. The crying continued in the room and Merlin tried the doorknob. It was locked and Merlin bit his lip.

Well, he had already followed the crying half across the castle. What was one more sin? Merlin's eyes burned gold and he heard the soft click of the lock opening. He pushed open the door and peeked inside. It was a bedroom, although it hadn't seen occupants for some time. Dust settled on the faded red rug and cobwebs hung from the bed posts. There were dark shapes on the floor and Merlin narrowed his eyes to see through the gloom. A small wagon revealed itself and Merlin was confused. Toys? Was this a child's room?

Merlin pushed open the door and walked in, nudging away a carved figure with his foot. Then he almost fell over himself as the source of the noise came into view. It was a woman and she was glowing softly in the dark. This was new. Normally the spirits Merlin saw looked perfectly human except for the fact he knew them to be dead. This woman had a soft silver light surrounding her. She was wearing a splendid light blue dress and had long blond hair. She was clutching a stuffed toy to her chest and crying in apparent sorrow.

Merlin's heart sped up. He knew this woman. He had seen her in a small painting Arthur kept hidden in a drawer in his bedroom. Merlin had to move it every time he got out Arthur's feast clothing. It was his mother, Queen Igraine. Merlin swallowed and walked hesitantly forward. "Queen Igraine?" he asked softly. "Are you alright?"

Bright blue eyes lifted to face Merlin and he started. They were Arthur's eyes, a vibrant blue Merlin saw everyday. "Please," whispered the woman. "Where is my son? Why can I not find him?"

Her son? She must mean Arthur. Merlin glanced around the room. Had this been Arthur's bedroom when he was a child? He would have long ago moved from this room if that was the case. "Your son is not here anymore," answered Merlin.

Igraine sobbed, a tiny wail escaping her lips. "Where is my son? Where is Arthur?"

Merlin had never seen a spirit like this before, one so distraught and confused. He sank to his knees and reached out a hand. He stopped before he could touch her, not brave enough to find out if he would meet ghostly skin or if his hand would pass right through. "Arthur has a new room in a different part of the castle, Queen Igraine. Your son no longer resides here." He hoped he was making sense to the woman, that something of his words were reaching her. He wondered how long this spirit had wept in this empty and cold room for her child.

"A new room?" breathed Igraine, lifting her eyes to stare at Merlin.

Merlin smiled and nodded. He felt a little odd speaking to the ghost like this. "Yes. Arthur is fine, Queen Igraine. He's just in a different room."

Igraine dropped the stuffed toy and latched onto Merlin's hands. To his surprise, she could touch him and he her but it was like touching ice. Merlin gasped in a breath as she looked imploringly at him. "Can you take me to him? I want to see my little boy!"

That was unexpected. The spirit of Igraine seemed to be stuck in the past, probably working off the same information that led her to believe Arthur still lived in his nursery. "Queen Igraine, Arthur is not a little boy anymore. He's a man. He was crowned and named Heir Apparent a few weeks ago."

"A man?" echoed Igraine.

Merlin nodded gently. "It's been many years since your death."

The woman lowered her head. "Death?" she whispered. Merlin winced, fearing a hysterical reaction. It had not crossed his mind that Igraine might not know she was dead. All the other spirits he had meet seemed to be very aware that they were ghosts coming to visit. How long had Igraine been wandering around in her spirit form, confused and lost? "Yes, my death." Igraine seemed to nod to herself. "My death so that my son could live. You cannot give a life without taking a life away."

Merlin frowned. "Queen Igraine?"

Igraine raised her head and Merlin saw that her eyes were calmer and some of the panic had bled out of her face. "Nimueh warned us that a life would be taken for our son to be born." Merlin froze, astonished. "She warned us and Uther thought us to be above the rules of magic. It was a heavy price we paid for my husband's pride." Sadness washed over the beautiful Igraine. "My son, my poor Arthur. He has grown without me? He is a man now?"

Merlin swallowed and nodded. "Yes. Arthur is twenty one summers now."

"I think I knew that," muttered Igraine. "Somewhere in my mind was that knowledge. Somehow I have seen him grow." Merlin supposed that was possible. People in Ealdor often said that their ancestors watched over them. "And, who are you?"

"I'm Merlin, Arthur's manservant," the dark haired boy replied.

Igraine stared at Merlin intently. He began to fidget slightly, uncomfortable with the situation, when Igraine suddenly smiled widely at him. "Ah, yes. The young sorcerer that often saves Arthur from his enemies." Merlin gasped and went pale. Igraine frowned and patted his hands. "You need not fear me, child. As they say, dead men tell no tales. Or, in this case, dead woman. I do not hate magic as my poor husband does, blinded by sorrow. I knew what I was doing when I agreed to let Nimueh help me conceive a son by magic." She smiled again. "I must actually thank you. Without you Merlin, my son would have died. No mother wises that for their child."

Merlin sucked in air, feeling panic drain down his spine. "Forgive me, but if King Uther found out…"

Igraine nodded sadly. "I know." Now she looked up at him imploringly. "Will you take me to see Arthur? You know where he sleeps now. Can you take me to see my son?"

Guiding the ghost of the Queen through the corridors of the castle on the night of Samhain? He knew it sounded like madness but Arthur looked so much like his mother and Merlin could never deny that blue gaze a request. He nodded, "I will."

They stood and went to the door. Merlin peeked out and then motioned for Igraine to follow him. They both slipped out into the corridor and Merlin led the way back toward Arthur's current bedroom. He glanced back at Igraine but it seemed the spirit had stopped glowing. If Merlin did not know better he would have sworn he was with a living person. The dead Queen looked sadly around the quiet castle. "On Samhain I remember there used to be a feast and celebration into the early dawn," said Igraine.

Merlin shook his head and led them up some stairs. "Now, everyone is too scared to even leave their rooms at night. They fear King Uther and his axmen too much." It was perhaps a bit too harsh to speak so of Igraine's husband but the Queen only looked back at Merlin with sad eyes. Merlin finally came upon Arthur's door and took out his key.

Igraine looked at the door and smiled. "My son?" Merlin nodded and unlocked the door, creeping inside. The spirit glided into the room soundlessly. Moonlight streamed into the bedroom, falling upon the bottom of the bed where the familiar form of Arthur rested. Merlin stopped at the table and leaned against a chair as Igraine walked forward and gazed down at Arthur. A fond look passed over the Queen's face and she reached out a hand to touch her son's cheek.

"Don't," muttered Merlin. His heart almost broke when Igraine looked up at the sorcerer in confusion. "You are the mother he has never seen, never been with, and I don't think his heart could stand it when he learns he cannot keep you." Merlin didn't even know if Arthur would be able to see Igraine if he woke and he wanted to spare both the prince and the spirit the heartache.

Igraine looked saddened but pulled away her hand. She instead sat softly on the side of the bed. "I have vague memories of him growing up," she muttered after awhile. Merlin sat in the chair at the table and cupped his chin in his hand. "I have seen him do many wonderful things but then a mother always thinks everything her children do is wonderful."

Merlin smiled. "No, Arthur really does wonderful things. I'm constantly amazed by him."

Igraine grinned at the young sorcerer and Merlin saw a bit of the impish attitude he often saw peek out in Arthur. "Even when he is at his most annoying and pratish?"

"Especially then," said Merlin with a soft chuckle.

Igraine smiled down at Arthur again. "You have been good for him," muttered the Queen. Merlin cocked his head curiously at her. "Even I can admit that my son was truly horrible before you came to Camelot, Merlin." She looked up at him. "The Dragon was right when he said you would change that." Merlin blushed and Igraine chuckled at him.

"I don't know what you mean," complained Merlin. "Arthur thinks I'm an idiot and we barely tolerate each other."

Igraine shook her head and raised her hand to hover over Arthur's hair. She moved it as if she were stroking her son's hair, although she did not lower her hand enough to actually touch. "That's not true," the Queen said. "You have changed many things in Camelot, Merlin, including my son's heart."

Merlin hugged himself, suddenly feeling chilly. "That's ridiculous!" he muttered, shaking his head. "I'm just a servant." Igraine looked up at him with an enigmatic smile and Merlin looked away. "You really are Arthur's mother. You're as frustrating as him." The blond woman laughed softly and Merlin turned back to see her stroke the air above Arthur's cheek. Merlin laid his head down on a forearm and smiled. Igraine looked much happier, so different from the unhappy spirit he had found in an old abandoned room. The young sorcerer blinked groggily, watching mother and son. Soon, Merlin didn't open his eyes again.

*****

Something was poking him in the side of the head. Merlin sleepily flapped a hand at the annoyance and rubbed his cheek against the pillow. The object returned after a moment, tugging at his hair. More awake now and irritated about it, Merlin slapped at it. His hand meet air and Merlin sighed, rolling his head to the other side. There was some sort of sound and the poking returned to his head. Damn it, what was that? Merlin flailed a hand and opened his eyes, glaring into the bright sunshine. An amused face and blond hair swam in front of him. Queen Igraine?

With a gasp, Merlin shot upright and almost overturned his chair. Arthur burst out laughing as Merlin stared at him with wide eyes. "You should see your face! It's priceless!" Arthur slapped his palm down on the table as he laughed. Merlin frowned and looked around the room. It was morning, sunlight bright in the windows of Arthur's bedroom. He couldn't find Queen Igraine. Had dawn forced her to leave? He assumed that all spirits returned to the land of the dead once Samhain was over. He hoped she was okay and at peace. "Merlin!" He started and turned to look at Arthur, who now had a concerned look on his face. "What are you doing here? You look upset. Is something wrong?"

Well, he couldn't tell Arthur what really happened last night. Somehow he didn't think telling the prince that he had guided the spirit of his dead mother to his bedside last night would end well. He thought fast and produced a wild eyed look on his face. "I think I just had the freakiest dream last night."

Arthur blinked at him and then grinned. "And you came here?" Merlin winced to himself. Arthur laughed again. "You are such a girl! Don't worry, Merlin, I'll protect you from the big bad boogies!" Merlin flashed back to the shadows lurking around the castle and wished that were true.

Merlin scowled at the prince. "It's not funny, Arthur!" The blond prat just kept grinning at him and Merlin stood up in a huff. "I need to get down to the kitchens and Gaius will be looking for me," he said tightly. Merlin was about to step away when Arthur shot out a hand and caught his wrist. Merlin looked down into Arthur's suddenly serious face in surprise.

"You'd tell me if something was really wrong, wouldn't you Merlin?" asked the prince, staring Merlin in the eye. "You wouldn't be trying to deal with something by yourself? You'd tell me if there was something you needed, right?" Merlin blinked at the protective edge to Arthur's voice and found himself nodding dumbly. Arthur then smirked and released the other man's wrist. "Very good, Merlin. See that you do. Now, how about you go down to the kitchen and see if you can't get something hot for breakfast."

Arthur fairly pushed Merlin from the room and shut the door behind him. Merlin blinked, standing in the busy corridor. A few of the passing servants glanced at him strangely but he didn't notice. His mouth moved for a moment, no sound coming out as his brain rushed through several thoughts at once. He turned around to face the door and raised a hand to knock but paused. Slowly, a grin bloomed across Merlin's face. Perhaps Igraine knew what she was talking about after all. Merlin turned and walked away, a funny little smile on his face. "He's still a big prat, though," muttered Merlin.