Title: Salt and Ice

Fandom: BBC Merlin

Rating: 13+

Disclaimer: BBC Merlin does not belong to me, just this story/fanfiction.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Swearing, Blood/Gore later on. . .

Main Pairing: Merlin/Mordred, Merdred

Full Summary:Merlin is de-aged by a sorceress and left as an innocent five-year-old. It's down to the Knights and Arthur to protect him in his younger, vulnerable state. But with interfering Druids, the looming threat of Morgana, and dangerous suppression magic, are they fighting a losing battle? Sick!Merlin, Protective!Mordred. Magic is a gift, not a curse.

Notes: Thank you to everyone who has favourited or followed! Special thanks to xx ShamiksXa xx, sannescheltinga, FreyaMyth10, Fai's smile, and AxelsFire96 for your support, your comments keep me inspired. To parimalik, I'm glad you like the story so far, suppression magic is an idea I've had bouncing around in my head for a while, I just hope I can do it justice :) To Hope94, thank you for your support! Dark Mordred breaks my heart, but I'll have to see where this story takes itself :) To Fitz, I'm so happy you liked the start to this story, I'm going to try and keep updating as regularly as possible. I thought it would be nice to have a 'villain', who isn't evil for the sake of being evil and my plan is for this to be both Merdred pairing later on, but initially friendship between little!Merlin and Mordred. To Sachiel Angelo, thanks for your support, it's so difficult to write Mordred convincingly and hopefully I can keep up to your expectations! :) To Zephyr of the Mind, thank you for the first comment, I know it had be difficult to review a new story so I just wanted to say that I'm extremely grateful for the support! :)

I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to check my mistakes. There will be a few, so I apologise beforehand.

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Salt and Ice

Chapter 1 ~ Whiter Shade of Pale

Mordred struggled to contain his breaths. Between the progressively louder shouts from city guards and their nearing footsteps, he was running out of time. Something was wrong.

The presence of Emrys' magic felt weaker, like a bonfire had dimmed to a candle and then a barely an ember. But, presently, the other warlock was nowhere in his sight. So instead of leaving the boy at the guard's mercy, he chose the latter of his two options. Gathering the small child in his arms and taking shelter under the woodland canopy, Mordred's eyes blazed gold.

His heart flung against his ribcage, desperate to escape his body. His mind raced back to those dark, uncertain moments in his childhood, when the only thing between him and execution were a few and fair standing trees.

Crouching lower, Mordred's hold on the boy tightened as the guards entered the clearing. Their unsheathed swords and armour shone silver in the young moonlight. Mordred's breath caught in his throat. He was all too afraid to be heard. Perhaps he should risk using his magic.

Winter would soon encompass the land, the deathly chill in the air held as a warning of the cold weeks, months to come. The guards didn't look at all too pleased about venturing beyond the City's protective walls. All seemed eager to return as soon as possible.

Cautiously Mordred entered their minds. Rewriting what they heard, only for them to believe the noise to be nothing more than the storm's frivolous wind. He pulled back, choking on the intoxicating allure of his magic as it threatened to take control. Closing his eyes, Mordred sought the minds harboured within Camelot. Each one easy to take over, rewrite, remake. He almost lost himself in the vastness of possibility when his thoughts turned to Emrys. An existence that burnt as brightly as the sun yet seemed to have disappeared from his sight.

Mordred searched and searched but reeled back in fear when he was unable to find the incarnation of magic. Shook to the core, he pulled his mind back to reality and unsteadily rebuilt his mental walls.

One by one the guards left in a daze, convinced the commotion had been nothing but figments of their imagination. When he was certain they all had dispersed, Mordred stood and took a better look at the child in his arms.

The boy was incredible light and frail - sickly looking even. But he definitely knew magic, yet it was in such small amounts that it barely registered with his own.

Mordred sighed because now he was in a difficult situation. The boy could either be the Witch's offspring, thou he doubts any mother would leave her child behind, or a child stolen from the Druids. That could become troublesome. Especially with the Druid ambassadors visiting the City next week. He debates how he'd explain harbouring a child of theirs in Camelot. Looking around, Mordred conceded - he had to tell someone, he needed to trust someone. And despite the friends he had made, there is no one but Emrys who understand his true nature. Emrys and one other.

Leaning the child into his chest, Mordred took advantage of freeing one arm. Unravelling his clock string, he then tugged the material of the boy's small frame. The wind blew ferociously and Mordred ran while the noise of branches crashing obscured his hasty footsteps. Without further thought, he willed his magic forth and walked in plain sight through Camelot's streets without a single eye seeing him.

In the dark, the young Druid pushed the door to the physician's room open with his foot. The room was doused in shadows, as very little light managed to creep inside.

'Emrys,' he called.

Mordred flinched in surprise when his mind slammed straight into a powerful mental block. The shock had him tripping over his feet and falling into the side of a table. Sending a wide array of bottles and glasses crashing to the floor. Mordred winched, caught in the silence before the storm.

"What in all that's sacred!?" A rough voice yelled, followed shortly by the clatter and bang of someone trying to navigate in the dark. "Merlin, I swear if that's you-" The man stopped abruptly in front of Mordred with a curious expression washing over his features. "Ah, Sir Mordred I wasn't expecting you. I wish Merlin would tell him if he's having company. . ."

The Druid's face darkened. Because Emrys couldn't even look at him, let alone entertain the idea for an ordinary conversation. Since Mordred has been Knighted, he had only seen hatred in Emrys' eyes, conversations cut short and constant glares sent his way. The crushing thought of knowing the one person he would die for, holds no trust in him, breaks him little by little each day. Shaking his head, Mordred jested to the child in his arms.

"You have me wrong, Gauis, I am here for a different reason." He kept his tone bitter, whatever delusion the old man held he would do well to oppose.

"Who's that?" Gauis arched his eyebrow, drawing closer for a better look.

"I found him outside Camelot's walls," Mordred began. "He had crossed paths with a Witch, however I'm still unsure of her intent. My presence chased her away."

"Quickly, lay him down over here, I'll check for any injuries."

Mordred complied. Now guided by the few candles Gaius had lit, he positioned the boy above the cheap sheets of the spare bed. Leaving the cloak wrapped around his small frame, Mordred gentle brushed the boy's bangs across his forehead. As Gauis approached, Mordred stepped to the side. He watched as the old man took a pulse, checked the boy's temperature, looked over his pale skin and then sighed.

"He has a weak fever, but nothing to be worried about. You may retire, I'll have Merlin help me look after him through the night."

Mordred nodded taking one last glance at the boy and turned on his heels. Deciding in that moment to return in the morning before training to retrieve his cloak. Something told the Druid that Emrys wouldn't be too happy to see him here when Gaius woke him in order to help look after the child.

So, without hesitation, Mordred almost ran from the room, not saying another word and heading straight for his chambers. His inability to reach Emrys' mind had Mordred wondering if the warlock had finally found a way to shut him out - permanently.

.

. .

. . .

. .

.

Morning had been and gone, leaving the castle to settle in the afternoon frost.

One moment Mordred had been peacefully wandering the corridors, gingerly resting the extent of bruises acquired in training earlier. He hadn't gone back to retrieve his cloak just yet, keen to avoid visiting the physician's chamber for as long as possible. Mordred decided a month ago to keep his distance from Emrys. The young warlock had past the point of civil and Mordred was at a loss on how to fix what he doesn't understand is broken.

Half way to the armoury, Emrys' screams crashed over his mind like an ocean storm. It was so loud that the Knight covered his ears on reflex and fell to his knees. He had broadcast so loud, anyone able to hear through magic certainly would have.

After the initial shock, Mordred was on his feet as his mind reached out through the palace for Emrys'. His fingers trembled fearing the worse. Extending his search, the young Knight soon sensed the presence of foreign magic. Powerful and from a source he did not recognise.

Hand on his sword's leather-bound handle, Mordred found himself sprinting to the physician's chamber.

Weaving through the deserted corridors, he found little comfort in the knowledge that Emrys is the most powerful creature to ever walk the earth. As the Druid approached, he could feel the warlock's mind in a deep, unreachable slumber. Different from the night before, he briefly felt Emrys' presence crying out like a wounded animal, restrained and in pain.

Mordred's pace slowed as he heard the rustle of papers. He peered through the half-open door and braced himself at the sound of footsteps. Redirecting his attention to the scene inside, he searched again for Emrys' mind.

Absolutely nothing.

Something tightened around Mordred's heart as he stepped into the physician's room, fingers trembling. He widened his search for the threat, for Emrys when his mind brushed against something innocent.

Mordred frowned as he watched a shadow shift abnormally and turned in the direction of its source. Crouched in the corner was a small child who looked no more than five. The boy - the one from last night - seemed to be pushing further than humanly possible into the wall while tears streamed down his face. The Knight's entrance had not gone unnoticed and upon releasing he had been discovered the child screeched to the high heavens. Immediately, Mordred resheathed his sword and knelt onto one knee.

'It's okay. . . little one.' He sought a mental link and struggled to form comforting words. 'My name's Mordred, I promise I will not cause you harm.' His voice cooed, using the all-too-familiar tone the Druid elders had when he was a child.

The boy tears stopped almost instantly, and his stared with awe-struck eyes at the Knight. Mordred shuffled uneasily and unused to that kind of reaction.

'You have magic?' A small, innocent voice echoed in his mind. 'You shouldn't, some one gonna see you.'

He spoke so earnestly, such fear in his tone, that Mordred's heart bled a little.

'Mummy said it's a secret. . . Have you seen her?'

The Knights eyes softened. 'I'm sorry, little one. I do not know where she is.' He immediately regretted his honesty when fresh tears collected in the child's summer-blue eyes. 'But it's okay, it's okay.' He hushed quickly, panicked. 'I will help you find her.'

'Promise?'

'Promise.'

The small boy's stiff posture relaxed as he slowly calmed down. He looked around the room curiously, inquisitive eyes absorbing every little detail.

'Do you have a name, little one?'

Mordred questioned, bringing the boy's attention back to him.

'I'm not little,' he glared stubbornly at the young Knight. 'I'm Merlin.'

The Druid froze as everything shifted into place. Quickly recalling how Emrys hadn't shown up at the Knight's training to watch him in distrust. How Arthur had been half-hearted complaining that Merlin could possibly be the worst servant in the history of servants. The Witch's words. How Emrys presence seemed to have disappeared over night. Had he truly been so blind?

The door swung open causing Mordred to stand on instinct, and to his surprise, had Merlin bolting behind his legs. The young Knight was greeted by the form of a very tired-looking physician. No doubt the man had been up all-night diligently tending to his latest charge.

"Gaius?" He asked as the man stopped abruptly at the sight of him. Instead of responding straight away, he looked around the Knight.

"Sir Mordred, I-" The last reserves of colour leeched from the old man's face as his eyes rested on the tangled mess of sheets on the empty bed. "The boy, where is he? Where did he go?" Gaius raised his voice in panic.

"It is alright." Mordred replied calmly as the physician ran across the room in a frantic search. "He is over here."

Gaius stilled and whirled around, his eyes settling on the Merlin's half-hidden face as he peaked out from behind the Knight's legs. He sighed in relief. "Thank the heavens."

'He scares me.' Came an innocent little voice in the Knight's head and Mordred failed as he tried to suppress a snigger. The old physician raised an eyebrow again at his peculiar behaviour.

Without wasting a second, Mordred allowed his face to fall blank.

'He scares me too, Em-Merlin.' The Druid replied, eyes wandering down to the little boy who was giving me a quizzical look. The ruffling of bed sheets had them both looking back to the physician. Whatever question lingered in the child's mind was swiftly forgotten as Gaius finished remaking the bed, then turned to the Druid with a red cloak in hand.

"I suspect you'll be needing this back, Sir Mordred." He nodded respectively as the Knight took the folded material from his worn hands then he turned to Merlin. "Now, let's get you back to bed. Your fever still hasn't gone completely, you need to rest."

Seemingly ignoring the old man's words, the boy's grip on the Knight's trousers tightened as he stared transfixed at the cloak. Just visible was the golden dragon, weaved onto the fabric with care.

Fear, panic, dread, worry, distress, betrayal washed over his young features and crashed through their mental link.

For a moment, the Druid had trouble sorting Merlin's frantic thoughts, all too chaotic to form any coherent sense. Then as the boy backed away from him in terror. . . Mordred finally understood.

'Blood. It's coloured with blood.' Merlin screamed silently, tears glistening in his blue eyes. 'Liar! Lair! You promised you don't hurt me! You just want to get my blood to paint cloaks!'

Mordred backed away, fully anticipating the burst of defensive magic surely to explode from Emrys. Tentatively, the Knight readied his own in order to protect Gaius and himself. But then. . . nothing happened. . . aside a few desperate sobs and cries for an absent mother. To say Mordred was surprised would have been an understatement.

When he was such an age, his magic was uncontrollable, untameable. Constantly reaching out to protect him whenever he felt afraid. So surely, Emrys with all his might, should be able to do the same? Perhaps not. Mordred left himself very little time to ponder, before laying the cloak over a nearby chair and pacing over to Merlin. Kneeling down again, he swarmed the young boy in a firm hug. It was awkward because Emrys tried to wiggle free and push away. Finally, when he settled, Mordred took his chance to reach for Merlin's mind.

'There's no blood here, little one.' He promised, standing Merlin in front of him, allowing the small boy a few shaky sniffs. 'I would never cause you pain or hurt or fear. And I won't ever let anyone harm you.'

The words 'you had been the one constant ray of hope to walk on this earth' goes unsaid, but Mordred kept the truth to his tone.

"Merlin, this is Gaius." He introduced, leaning so the boy could see the physician. "He is one of my friends and he has magic too."

The old man stared bewildered. "Merlin? Our Merlin? When- How?"

"We spoke before. It is him." Mordred replied simply. Merlin had returned to stand behind him, attention having turned to suspiciously eyeing the red cloak. "What will we do? Without Emrys, Camelot is unprotected from her enemies." The knight begged, the threat of Morgana seeming just that bit more deadly in his eyes.

"Pray."

"That is not at all comforting." Mordred replied dryly and waited for the physician to carry on.

The old man sighed tiredly. "It was sorcery that did this, and only sorcery can change him back. Well beyond anything I could achieve." He exhaled defeatedly, before looking to the Druid expectedly.

Mordred shook his head dispelling any hopes the old man might hold. "I know of no spells to undo this kind magic, and the Witch responsible is long gone. I should have done more. I should have been there sooner and stopped her."

"There's no point dwelling in self-pity, we have no choice but to find a way to reverse this until then. . ." He sighed, eyes drifting to Merlin.

The young boy had guardedly approached Mordred's cloak and wrapped his small fingers over the corner of the material. In one motion he pulled it off the chair and stumbled backwards as weight toppled into him. Mordred rushed forward and caught Merlin in his arms before he hit the ground. The boy tilted his head back and smiled sheepishly at him.

". . .We have to look after him." Gaius finished wearily.

"A task easier said than done, I fear." Mordred said, righting Merlin and allowing him to run his fingers over his red cloak.

'See? No blood.' He whispered softly.

The Druid smiled gently, watching as the young boy nodded, but did not reply with words. Verbally or mentally. Instead, his brow stitched together in confusion.

"The King is holding a meeting at noon, all are to attend, especially the Knights, his words." Mordred explained to the physician. "To be missed on pain of death."

'Em-Merlin, I need to leave. But I will be back, can you promise to be good while I am gone?'

The little boy looked fearful again and shook his head violently in protest. Mordred bit his cheek in thought. Then he brought his hands together. In a rare display, he whispered ancient words and allowed his eyes to blaze gold. Merlin inhaled sharply, watching as a silver butterfly escaped from between the Druid's fingers. Instantly raising one finger to his lips, Mordred fought against smiling at the young warlock's awestruck expression.

'This is our secret, Emrys. You cannot tell anyone.' He said not realising his mistake. Merlin frowned and nodded eagerly anyway, but narrowed his eyes at physician, who was pretending to rearrange some glass vials.

'A secret between Mordred and me?'

The Druid nodded before looking back to Gaius.

"What will we tell Arthur?" Asked the Knight, his mind racing with all the implications their situation now held.

"Tell me what, Sir Mordred?"

Both men jumped and turned in the direction of the door. Arthur was leant against the wooden frame, arms crossed over his chest and an amused expression lacing his features.

"Care to explain?"

"Sire." Mordred greeted, bowing slightly. Procrastinating on giving an answer to difficult to form in words. The young Knight swallowed thickly.

"I'm waiting." The King arched an eyebrow and Gaius glanced between the two nervously, but his main focus rested on Merlin. The little boy had crouched under the side table and so far, he seemed to have gone unnoticed by Arthur. As the blond stepped further into the physician's room, it was clear he was yet to see the three and a half feet of trouble lurking just out of sight.

"I'm teasing, Mordred." He smiled brightly and trusting. "I'm actually here for that lazy, good-for-nothing servant of mine, have you by chance seen Merlin this morning?"

At that the little warlock perked up, regarding the blond with a dubious stare and then, quick as lightning, rushed from his hiding place to his apparently favourite spot behind Mordred's legs. Whatever Arthur had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. He looked questioningly at his youngest Knight.

"Who's this?" He said keeping his tone gentle, but irritation was clear in his eyes.

Mordred took a deep breath, in this situation lying might temporarily mask the issue but, in the end, the problem remained. He felt a pang of annoyance that the physician had decided to stay so conveniently quiet and leave him under the King's scrutiny.

"Sire, there's been an. . . accident." He began delicately, realising too late that probably wasn't the right once choice of words. So, he tried again. "Merlin. . . Merlin was attacked by a sorceress. I'm not sure what her intentions were, but the spell she used. . ." He struggled to finish the sentence, watching the colour leach from Arthur's face.

"Where's Merlin? Is he hurt?" The King stepped forward and grabbed Mordred's shoulders roughly. Looking around the workshop, his hold tightened on the tense Druid when he could not immediately see his servant.

"Mordred," he said slowly, dangerously. "Where is Merlin?"

The Knight opened his mouth to reply, but a young voice beat him to chase.

"I'm here. Don't hurt Mordred, don't use his blood as paint."

Arthur frowned and pushed Mordred to the side, revealing that small boy. His eyes widened and breath caught in his throat. "The sorceress did. . . this?"

The Knight nodded in the silence that followed as Merlin and Arthur refused to break the other's gaze.

"Does he remember?"

The King asked, and even though it's an ambiguous question, Mordred managed to shake his head in response. Slowly, Arthur knelt in front of the boy, brow furrowed at the way his small frame shook and sorrowful eyes searched out the Knight for support.

"Merlin, do you know who I am?"

Arthur's words brought the dark-haired child's piercing regard back to him, and now at eye level it seemed that little bit more intense.

"Please don't-" He hiccupped, glancing at the cape hanging from Arthur's shoulders and then sobbed. "Red capes mean flames, I was good- I promise."

Arthur panicked slightly at the outburst before hushing the child.

"Shhhhh, it's okay. Calm down." He half-ordered, half-pleaded.

The boy's wails already giving him a headache. But when Merlin neither stopped nor quietened, Arthur gathered the small boy in his arms and sent Gaius a desperate look.

"Sire, he's quite overwhelmed. Perhaps let Sir Mordred take the boy? He seemed more accepting of his presence."

If Arthur felt upset or disheartened by the statement, he did not let it show. Schooling his features, he carefully placed the boy in his youngest Knight's waiting arms. The King then stepped back and allowed surprise wash over his features as Merlin's cries lessened.

'Everything is alright, Merlin.' Mordred cooed. 'There is nothing to be afraid of.'

The Druid blushed as the boy reached out with one hand and clutched his chain-mail. He struggled to believe Emrys was ever this small, this tiny, or this vulnerable. All things from little seeds grow but having met Emrys later on when the warlock was in his teen years, it was difficult for Mordred to see them as one and the same. The little boy in his arms was not Emrys yet, and if they couldn't reverse the spell, he might not be for another sixteen years.

'Arthur would not hurt you.' He tried to promise, but even now Mordred wondered what actions the King would take if he became aware of Merlin's magic. Emrys looked up at him with adoring eyes, too wide and innocent for the cruelty of this world and sat up a little in the Druid's hold.

'Does he know about magic?' He asked timidly.

Mordred's heart skipped a beat.

'No.' He replied perhaps a little too sharply and regretted it immediately when Merlin flinched at his tone, but Mordred knew better than anyone that fear is the necessity of survival. 'He mustn't ever know.'

Their secret conversation was cut short by Gaius' stern voice. Mordred looked up to see the physician and King deep in discussion. They both glanced up at him and Arthur's lips thinned.

"Sir Mordred, would you mind showing Merlin around the castle?" He questioned.

It wasn't a request. It was an order.

"Of course, Sire." The Druid bowed his head respectfully and left without another word. The little Warlock sniffled but perked up a little at leaving the room. Curiously, he leant forward to get a better look at his changing surroundings.

Arthur walked over to shut the door behind them and Mordred flinched at the sound.

. . .

"Tell me everything." Arthur demanded.

"Late last night, Sir Mordred found him alone. He was in a bad way, so he brought him to me. It was dark and neither of us knew it to be Merlin at the time. He had a high fever and only woke up shortly before you arrived."

"Okay." Arthur nodded, taking in Gaius' words. "And the spell?"

"Powerful, Sire. It has caused a regression in age and suppression of his memories."

The King sighed heavily, running his fingers through his blond hair. "Is there anything that can be done?"

"I'm afraid until I know the spell she cast, there's not much that can be done. Perhaps it's effectiveness will wear off in time, but I can't be certain of anything." Gaius shook his head disheartened.

"So that's it then? Merlin might have to grow up all over again?!" Arthur leant over a table, hands digging into the edges. "I'll have my Knights search the forest for her, she couldn't have gotten far. I'll make her undo this."

"And if not, Sire?"

"Then. . . Then I'll take Merlin in as my ward, permanently. I know Guinevere will have no reservations. Merlin is a dear friend to her."

Gaius nodded in thought. "I hope it doesn't come to that, Sire."

Arthur sighed again, resting his head in his hand. "So do I, but first things first, I'll have to inform my Knights of the situation and tell the court of my new ward."

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Please review and let me know what you think :) x