Guys, this is just the first chapter and I'm having a go and seeing whether you like it. Please R&R. ConCrit is very welcome. Enjoy. Of course, I wish I owned Merlin (cause then I could make Mergana happen properly) but I don't. Purely AU.

Chapter One-The Witch and the Warlock

In a land of myth and a time of Magic, the destiny of a great kingdom rests on the shoulders of a young boy. His name. Merlin.

Merlin was cautiously moving through the trees, watching for any interfering adult coming his way. His mother was bound to confine him to his room for a day at least but even he could not ignore the temptations of the beautiful outdoor gardens of the palace. It wasn't much of a palace as it was an estate- old walls covered with moss and shrubbery and metal gates rusting away by the rain. His mother had just been hired as a servant to the Lady of the mansion- The Lady Vivienne. She was a kind spirit and didn't mind Merlin tagging along with his mother. It was always the two of them, that's all Merlin knew. He didn't know whether his father was dead or alive. As far as he knew as a young boy of seven, his father didn't exist in his mother's eyes.

A small scuffle came from near him. It was quiet but Merlin definitely heard it. His curiosity got the better of him as he moved forward to see a petite shape sitting by the riverbank. Her head looking down into her hands and back tensed. Merlin realised what the noises were: she was crying. The girl wasn't much younger than him. Her black hair was neatened into a plait. Her dress was cream with embroidered patterns entrancing the borders and the cuffs. The girl noticed Merlin but did not move. She was more concerned with the scene that lay in front of her.

"Why are you crying?" the boy asked. His voice was rather childishly high.

"I…I found this." She lifted her closed hands to uncover a snow dove. Lifeless. She gulped. "I found it by the riverside. It's dead."

"It wasn't your fault. So why do you cry?" Merlin asked softly the girl as he went to kneel down beside her.

"It was. I knew this was going to happen." She snapped back and immediately regretted it. She nodded at him as if to say sorry and he nodded back acceptingly.

"I know what we can do. Let's build it a grave. Wait here a second. I'll be right back." She smiled at the stranger. He looked like her- black hair and pale eyes. There was something about this boy… He was strangely endearing.

Disappearing through the greenery, he skipped around the broken branches and quickly made his way back to the castle stable, in search of a rake. He felt like he was an assassin dancing around the guards, avoiding capture. In this case, he was avoiding his mother. He tiptoed around the fences and hid behind a bale of hay stacked by the stable door. Using a simple thought, his magic allowed the door to swing open.

Scanning to see if the area was clear, he slid into the stable. The door at the other side was open, exposing him to the people inside. Luckily, the men were occupied with a game of dice. Merlin never really understood that game- how could a dice take up so much of the men's attention span? He grabbed hold of a muddy pitchfork and turned around to see his mother chatting to one of the guards. She caught the sight of his black hair and immediately recognised the head it was stuck on.

"MERLIN!" she roared. But before she knew it, he was out of the stables and pacing through the greenery again. "What am I going to do about that boy?"

Hearing the twigs and branches snapping, the girl wiped away her hot tears. She didn't want to embarrass herself by appearing weak.

"I wasn't gone too long, was I?" he smiled sympathetically. She shook her head smiling at the boy. He was being incredibly kind for someone she didn't know. He picked a spot closest by the riverbank and pushed the pitchfork into the soft grass. Struggling to pull it out, he used his foot to anchor and pull. The girl grinned at the sweet boy, who had more bone than meat, trying to hide the fact he was struggling.

"You need help." She got up and pulled the pitchfork with him. The combined strength between them managed to build a small round grave perfect for the dove's eternal rest. Using her hands, darkened by the mud, she lifted the dove and placed it at the centre of the grave, delicately.

"Wait." Merlin stopped her hand as she went to cover the dove under a handful of soil. "It needs a name. All things need a name."

She hesitated. Merlin could see she was processing different names by the way she scanned her eyes and scrunched her small nose.

"Earendel."

She broke the silence with her idea. It was different but it was a good different, Merlin thought. It was almost magical. The two children decided to bury the dove by sharing the soil and taking turns to cover the dove. Merlin gathered up some pebbles while she finished off neatening the area and trying to clean off the dirt smeared over her dress. Her mother would be angry. Returning with a pile of stones that his weak arms could just bear, he silently helped the girl place it in a pattern.

"I, erm, didn't get your name. I'm Merlin." He offered a handshake but quickly realised his muddy hands would not impress a girl and retrieved it instead.

"My name is Morgana." She offered her hand, as dirty as Merlin's, but it was met with pleasant smiles.

"Come on, Merlin! You're useless!" Morgana's friend had barely picked up the sword before he'd dropped it again: it was only a wooden sword! Worrying, Morgana had thought, how badly Merlin would fare in an actual battle. Months had gone by since they'd met each other by the riverside. Yet here they are again, playing game after game by the same spot. They had grown a good friendship with the time they spent with each other. She taught him how to sword fight or at least she tried. And Merlin, in return he'd tell a crazy story about how he made her uncle's hair fall out or making one of the servants fall flat on his face. She'd never believe him but he made her laugh.

"I'm trying!" Merlin whined. "This is difficult for me. I'm not exactly a noble born, am I?"

"I'm not a knight and I can still fight better than you!" Morgana snapped back with wit.

"Fine!" She sighed. "Let's take a break." Merlin collapsed to the ground with exhaustion while Morgana put her head beside his in the opposite directions. She was beautiful. Snowy skin and the most emerald green eyes you could ever find. But they were just friends. Here by the river. But in the palace, in the real world, Morgana could not even be seen to communicate with him. She hated her title. She wished she was normal, like Merlin.

"Well, aren't you going to tell me a story?" She nudged him and adapted an even more girly tone of voice.

"I would, but there is none to tell." He shrugged his shoulders and Morgana didn't even attempt to hide her disappointment. "I'm sure you might." She put on her thinking face and Merlin watched the clouds go past. If they could, they'd do this forever.

"Look at that cloud. I think it looks a bit like a butterfly." She failed to tell conjure a story and used the clouds as distraction. Sky was blue and clouds flew by them. Pointing to a floating cloud, she caught Merlin's attention.

"Here," she nudged, "that looks like my uncle. You see the pointy nose."

"Ahh…" he recognised the comparison. "That one looks like a unicorn."

"What's a unicorn?" she remained confused while Merlin looked upon her in awe. A royal who did not know what a unicorn was alien to him.

"Well…" He began but they were interrupted when two young girls arrived. Their hair tightened into neat blonde curls. They were covered in head to toe with embroidered lace and jewellery. Morgana, in comparison, looked like a scruffy stable boy with mud everywhere and twigs in her hair.

"Morgana…why are you with this peasant?" the first girl spat with her eyes falling on Merlin.

"And what on earth are you wearing?" the second girl imitated her friend's tone. Morgana could feel the anger rising in her stomach. They wouldn't understand. They never would.

"He's my friend." Morgana stood defiant. She looked upon their horrified faces. Their foreheads creased and nose upturned as if they were disgusted. "Before you say anything else," she smirked, "Just know I'm holding this." The feisty girl tossed the sword up in the air and caught it with stylish fashion. She joked and pushed the sword forward and the girls ran for their lives. Their young minds were not accustomed to 'horseplay'. Her cousin liked to use that word.

"That was…" Merlin was lost for words.

"Heroic? Fantastic? Funny?" Morgana smiled at his unsuspecting face.

"Scary." He broke a laugh and she signalled his sword and began training again. Merlin hated sword fighting but when he was with Morgana, it didn't matter. He could be thrown into the stocks and still he would enjoy it if he were with her. Those were the days where everything was good; everything was peaceful.

Those were the days.

Those were the days.