JMJ

Hello, so I decided to write a fanfiction for Merlin since I watched a few episodes, after years of being away and healing from the emotional trauma. XD

This fanfiction is, as usual, an exploration of Merlin and Arthur's friendship, but I wanted to explore the early friendship and how Arthur was really raised to not get attached to anyone. I think you can see this very clearly in Valiant Season 1 Episode 2. Go back and watch it and see what I mean. I think fanfictions gloss over this point too much sometimes. So I wanted to explore the early years and what made Arthur who he was in 1X1.

Some things that you need to understand from the beginning. My fanfictions will never have a Merlin and Arthur romantic relationship. This is because I think they are friends and it is a beautiful and powerful platonic friendship. I am not hating any who thinks in the contrary. I'm just stating my opinion, so please don't ask to make this romantic. Frankly I usually don't write much romance at all in any of my fanfictions even if the couple is straight. I find friendship a more compelling subject!

Peace!

Beth

Men rush toward complexity

but they yearn for simplicity.

They try to be kings

but they dream of being shepherds.

G.K Chesterton

SIX YEARS OLD

"A prince does not have friends!"

The terrifying and harsh voice of the castle tutor rang through the stone corridors of Camelot. Startled servants stopped what they were doing and paused over their baskets and work to listen a moment.

The soft voice of the little crown prince said something back too quietly to hear before ending with a squeak when the tutor slammed his fist onto the desk.

"Do you hear me? You do not have friends because they will secretly want your power and your title. No-no I will hear no more of that young master. You can trust no one as a friend, just as an equal as an ally in the great chess game of life!"

The repeated slam of the fist on the desk caused all the eavesdroppers to jump, including the west wing scullery maid who dropped her two empty buckets onto the stone loudly. With a jolt, all of the servants scurried out of the corridor and out of the way. The scullery maid quickly picked up her load and dashed out of the hallway as the old head of the tutor popped out of the library door and glowered down the hall ominously. With a sigh of relief, the servants slowed their paces, returning to their tasks, quietly shaking their heads in commiseration with the young prince.

No one denied that when magic ruled Camelot, the land had been in Chaos. People suffered under the sorcerors' sway. Though Uther was harsh, there were truly not many in the kingdom who would change Uther's tactics for the horror of magic on the land. Yet since the death of the queen, the King had grown more distant and left raising his son to tutors and nurses that he thought would instill the firm, steely resolve a prince of Camelot would need.

The tutor withdrew his head and closed the heavy oak door of the library with a sigh murmuring something about the common rabble. As he turned back into the darkly lit room, his eyes readjusted to the sight of the young prince standing in front of his desk. The little prince's fingers interlaced nervously behind his back, but his bright blue eyes were locked onto the fierce visage of his tutor. This man was a bully, Arthur had realized, and bullies needed to be faced down. So, he set his tiny jaw and frowned up at the old man, in what he hoped was an intimidating glare but was actually more of a pout.

The tutor returned behind the desk, a physical barrier between him and the crown prince.

"What about playing?" Arthur asked. "Father lets me play with the children of the lords! They're my friends."

The tutor passed a hand over his face wearily and sat back in his chair.

"Sire, have you ever seen your father, AHEM, at balls?"

Arthur scrunched his nose at his tutor's constant clearing of his throat but forced himself to answer."Balls are boring."

"That was not my question."

Arthur bit his lip before responding. "Yes, he is always dancing, and talking to grown-ups. He smiles..."

"Very good. Now a ball is sort of like how a grown-up plays. Ahem. We talk and run around and have fun. Yes, we even smile. Now, does your father have any friends?"

Arthur paused and thought a moment and realized that he couldn't think of any. His little face fell, and he looked at the toes of his leather boots. A long red string was lying between two tiles of stone and Arthur tried to focus on it.

"No Arthur, your father has no friends. He has playmates and allies. People he can use for a while so he smiles and plays nice until he can use them. He knows that he cannot trust them and so he has no friends."

"Not even Gaius?"

"Oh, ESPECIALLY not the court physician. He knows a lot about your father, aHEM and so your father keeps him close. To watch him, as he watches over the dragon in the cave below."

Arthur decided right then that he didn't like his father's way. If you can't have friends, why bother playing nice with them. Why did he have to fake a smile? Why did he have to pretend to be something he was not? Arthur knew he was little, but he knew that he wanted to be honest with himself.

"Ahem, do you understand sire?" The tutor asked in his harsh and worn voice.

"I understand." Arthur looked up and said with a resolve that startled the tutor.

"Very well then, let us return to your history lesson."

Arthur walked back to his chair by the fireplace where his heavy textbooks sat. But as he slid up onto his seat and pulled the heavy book down the wheels in his brain were turning.

Arthur understood that his father was deceitful. Arthur realized that he could not have any friends. So Arthur understood that if he couldn't have any friends, he wouldn't bother trying to be nice to ANYBODY.

TWELVE YEARS OLD

It was the feast of De'laya, an old folk tradition in Camelot where the townspeople would gather together for a mummers parade and dance at the winter solstice. Local men carefully designed masks of different animals and would on the night of De'laya scurry about town in a long parade, accompanied by flute playing bird masked men. From square to square they'd run, lighting lanterns and singing loudly, keeping everyone awake until they'd throw down coins and food to send them away and make them quiet. Shopkeepers would stay open late and vendors would roll out carts peddling their wears to people who wanted to watch the parade, despite the late hour.

This was a parade for commoners.

"Come on! Don't be such a stick in the mud Arthur! We're going to have lots of fun! Come on, I even heard that one of the dancers wears a mask made of a dragon and it breathes real fire!" Young Eoin Maynard, Arthur's closest...playmate, was laying on top of a rock in the training fields where the two of them had just been badgering each other with swords minutes before.

"I don't know Eoin. Father won't permit it." Arthur was laying directly below the large boulder, using its height to block the afternoon sun. Though it was winter, it wasn't too cold to spend time outdoors.

"Your father is the king, and it would be wrong to disobey him directly." Eoin stated.

"Exactly, so drop it will you?"

"But if you don't ask him directly, he can't tell you no. If he can't tell you no then even if you get caught, you weren't disobeying him directly now were you?"

Arthur reflected on the thought as he watched the gray streaky cloud stretch over the winter sky desperately. As if it were clawing out at something.

"I suppose not, but..." Arthur knew his father had directly told him not to leave his chambers after dark, and this would qualify. He really would be breaking a direct order...

A large gray shape suddenly descended, and Arthur let out a howl of laughter as Eoin threw himself down, pinning the prince down.

"So. Will you come? Or will you be a girl's petticoat?!"

Arthur laughed and wrestled himself free of his thin and spry little friend.

"All right. I'll come."

A few hours later.

Arthur wished he hadn't come. It had started out so wonderfully. Arthur and Eoin had convinced their fathers to allow them to camp out in the great hall for the night hosting their own pretend feast and sleeping on blankets spread beneath the throne. It was the closest they'd get to camping for a while.

Father was too protective Arthur out of the reach of the castle guards. Three guards were posted outside the doors to protect them, but the boys had offered them the heavy wine that had been left from the adult's feast a few hours earlier. Soon two of the guards went to sleep while a third stood guard. It wasn't hard to get past the one when he went to relieve himself around the corner.

Using ropes, the two boys let themselves into the courtyard and dashing into the stables they threw on the primitive clothes they had bought from the laundry maid. Only a few minutes later and they were in the streets of Camelot. At first, the festival was happy and lively. Little street plays were performed by talented puppet theatres. Troubadours sang emotional ballads and acrobats performed dazzling feats.

The boys were drunk with the atmosphere and swept up with the crowd they slowly made their way further into the dregs of the city. Finally, Arthur's eyes saw what they had been seeking. A group of men in intricate animals masks snuck past the alleyway they were in. Tugging on Eoin's sleeve the two ran up the street, their soft leather shoes matching the beat of the flutes that hauntingly played.

Arthur found himself at the edge of the parade and standing next to a man in a rabbit mask. Tugging at his sleeve Arthur called out loudly over the music.

"Excuse me, is this where the Mummers dance is going to be?"

The man turned and leaned into his face. Horrible smell of ale washed over Arthur.

"AYE little mastah!"

He pulled the two boys forward into the crowd and shouted: "take a look!"

The De'laya festival was a lot more brutal and coarse than it had appeared from the castle walls last year. The dancers were almost all drunk and harshly sang up at the houses. In one particular square, no one threw any money or food down to quiet them. So some of the dancers began to kick in the doors, and the crowd of peasant pushed up against Arthur and Eoin forcing them to watch up close the terrified homeowners open up their windows and throw down trinkets to quiet them.

The dancers then fought, punched and brawled over the scattered coins before hooting and hollering onward.

Eoin pulled Arthur out of the crowd, and they clung to a doorframe as they watched the drunken rabble pass.

"Let's go home, Arthur," Eoin said in a nervous shaken voice.

A cold voice stopped them in their tracks.

"There you two are."

Arthur was not sure he was more relieved or horrified that a castle guard found them.

The two of them were marched like guilty criminals straight back into the castle. Arthur felt tempted to try and cajole the guards saying if they didn't tell his father they wouldn't get in trouble for letting them escape. But Arthur was too proud to try, and the guards had too strong a sense of duty.

A thirty minutes later they were back in the castle sitting in the great hall where they would be punished in the morning.

"Don't worry," Eoin said lightly. "I'll tell them it was my idea."

Arthur gave a pained smile because he knew Eoin was going to be taking the blame anyway. But he tried to say, "Oh, no jokingly. I'm the Prince. It was my idea.

The next day Eoin was strongly chastised, and Arthur averted his gaze as he stood in his father's shadow. The loud, angry voice of his father was a loud whirr in his ears, but he glanced up to see Eoin's friendly eyes glance up at him, sad but not angry. What was even worse was Lord Maynard embarrassed in front of the court and bowing low before the king. He was allowed to excuse himself from the court and return to his fortress sooner than planned. Eoin was led out of the castle, and Arthur didn't get to say goodbye to him before he left. As the Maynards left the great hall, Arthur let out a slight sigh of relief. It was almost over.

Then the three guards who had been placed on duty were called in. The King fairly growled at them and stripped them of their duties. The requests of the men for leniency or administrative leave or suspension were ignored, and Arthur watched as the faces of the men crumpled at his father.

Guards are supposed to guard, and letting kids get by you was a serious problem, but Arthur could not see how sacking them would solve anything.

This is what I get for getting close to someone, Arthur decided. Getting close was a problem. Making friends made people suffer. Any other kid would have gotten spanked, grounded or whipped. But he was never touched, everyone around him suffered. So, I won't let anyone that I care about be around me.

Okay, I'll admit that this first chapter was a bit depressing, and we didn't get to see any Merlin, but I hope it sets the tone for what this story will be. Please leave a review or shoot me a message if you have ideas or want to talk. I love modifying stories based on people's suggestions. I'll try to update soon but I am busy in college.

Beth