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Guileless son, I'll shape your belief; and you won't understand the cause of your grief, but you'll always follow the voices beneath.

The boy sat on the river bank, his thin arms pulling his knees close to his chest. A small breeze ruffled his dark hair as he stared sightlessly into the water. A bird chirped in the woods behind him; and his gaze momentarily lifted, only to fall back seconds later.

"Merlin? Merlin! Where are you?"

Dully, he looked up, seeing his mother farther upstream, searching for him. He watched her as she called, knowing that she would see him soon enough. When she looked at him and their eyes met, she visibly relaxed with a sigh.

"Merlin! Whatever shall I do with you!" She strode down the river towards him, gathering up her skirts in her hands as she walked. "When you disappear like this – I worry!"

He looked away from her, tightening his grip and looking back into the water. Seeing his despondancy, her look softened, and she sat down on the grass beside him, gently laying a hand on his arm.

"Merlin? What happened this time?"

He shook his head, looking away to hide the tears.

"Merlin, please – I can't help if I don't know what has happened..."

"You...you can't do anything – nothing can help me."

She sighed, knowing that, in a way, what he said was true. "Merlin, I trust you – and I always will."

He jerked his head around to look at her, and she mentally winced at the heartbreak and fear she saw in the boy's eyes – eyes too young to bear such a burden.

"Do you, Mother? Even when I can't control it? What if I burnt the house down around you? Or poisoned you somehow? Or, or...what if I hurt you?"

The words were broken, and she longed to wrap the boy up in her arms and shield him from the world – but she knew that would solve nothing. If he had encountered these worries at this age, then he was certainly strong enough to handle them.

"Merlin. Has it ever harmed anyone yet?"

He shook his head in silence.

"What has it done?"

He hesitated, but finally answered. "...it helps people, protects them."

She nodded. "Yes, it does. Merlin, what you have is a gift – a tool." She gently lifted his chin, waiting for his complete attention. "A tool has no soul – no plans for either good or evil; but it can be used for both. The outcome of how a tool is used is up to the owner – if an ax killed someone, would we hang the ax?"

He giggled and shook his head. "Of course not, mother – that's ridiculous! The person who used the ax would be in trouble!"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes – and so it is with your gift. It's only a tool – how it is used and what it yields," She touched her son's chest, "Depends upon the heart of the keeper. And Merlin, your heart is made of the finest gold in all of Camelot."

He stared at her for a second before a huge grin lit up his face, and he looked happier than he had in years. Jumping up, he flung his arms around his mother's neck.

"I love you, Mother."

She smiled, returning the embrace. "Ah, but I will always love you more, Merlin!"

Guileless son, each day you grow older – each moment she's watching her vengeance unfold.

The old physician walked alongside the river, searching for his nephew. Hunith had often written of how he had found comfort beside the river, and Gaius hoped that the same held true even now – otherwise he would be at a loss as to how to find the boy.

He had nearly give up his search, nearly turned around and returned to the castle, when he saw a movement in the shadows ahead of him. Stepping towards it, he knew it was Merlin.

The boy was utterly still, hunched in on himself and staring at the water with eyes that saw death and sorrow – nothing that spoke of peace, or destiny. He trembled, as if on the verge of bursting apart, and his hands were clenched at is sides. Hearing the physician step on a twig, his head jerked up, and Gaius hated the look of exhaustion and fear lurking within his darkened eyes.

"Gai – Gaius?" He swallowed and looked away again, his voice barely above a whisper.

The older man frowned. The child had seen too much in his life – he carried too much weight. Was it really nearly eight years ago that Merlin has unexpectedly come into his rooms, and saved his life? Was it really nearly eight years ago that Merlin's only concern was the various tasks set by Arthur and himself? Now, it seemed all that he was doing was constantly fighting off attacks upon either Camelot or Arthur – when did the child even find time to sleep?

Knowing that it would be awhile before Merlin was ready to leave, Gaius labouriously lowered himself to the ground beside the boy. Making himself comfortable, he looked into the water as well, looking for something to help him with the situation.

Suddenly, Merlin's quiet voice broke the silence the woods had fallen into. "Is it destiny that there is so much pain? So much loss?"

Gaius shook his head slowly, weighing his words. "No, but neither is it avoidable. There would be loss and pain regardless of which road you would follow – whether you chose to continually save Arthur, or not."

"She always said it was just a tool – something that had the possibility to be used for either good or ill, depending upon the one who wielded it. I have used it to kill, to harm, to lie, to manipulate – is this sullied thing," His eyes flashed gold and a sphere of light briefly exploded above his out-flung hand, "Truly able to be used for good any longer? 'Tis corrupted..."

The physician sighed. "Merlin. Is that all you have done with your...gift?" He chose to use the word Hunith always had, to use a word the boy associated with peace and love. "Have you only accomplished evil with it? Destruction?

Merlin refused to look up, the trembling becoming more pronounced; and Gaius knew he struggled to hold in his tears.

"Does the tally of the evil you have done outnumber the marks in the ledger of Morgause? Of Nimueh? Of Uther? Of Morgana? Have you done such that they may look at you and say, 'I am not evil – look at the one who has fallen farther'?" The older man exaggerated to make his point, but he knew that sometimes things had to be put into perspective.

"But there's always the first step! I never wanted to kill anyone – and then I would arrange situations where it was possible! And now, I do it myself – no longer using an intermediary!" Merlin finally jerked his head around to look at Gaius, and no longer checked the tears. "So much wrong has been accomplished with magic – so much sorrow has resulted from it. Have I made the right choices? Could I have saved more lives along the way? What could I have done differently? Why must I do this alone – what have I done to deserve this in life -"

Merlin's voice broke off in sobs; and Gaius reached out to pull him close, realising just how young the child was. At this age, he should be courting, learning a trade to support him through life, still joking and playing with friends from his childhood – instead, he walked under shadows and lies. Some were of his own making, having grown from the beginning into monsters that could not be slain without sorrow – but others threatened from other quarters; and he carried the weight of the world upon himself.

"Oh, Merlin..." He rocked the boy, and Merlin clung to him – letting someone else be the comforter, be the protector.

"Merlin, you're doing all you can. You can't save everyone – but rejoice for those you do save. The trouble isn't over yet, and you've still a long way to go – but you won't fall. No matter what you are forced to do, as long as it still hurts, you are still alive – still safe. And you're never alone, Merlin – I, at the least, will always be beside you.

Hush, Child, the darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down into sleep.

Merlin sat beside the lake, his knees pulled up to his chest. His arms were wrapped around them, and he slowly rocked back and forth, his eyes still staring at the spot where he had last seen the boat that bore Arthur away from him.

It was over. There was no longer a chance that Albion would be united peacefully under Arthur – how could it, with him gone? He had failed – again – but this time there was no backup plan or miraculous escape route.

He sighed, dropping his head to his knees. He was so tired – so ready to just give up and sleep for eternity. Could he? Arthur was said to come back – but what good would it serve if he had long since passed away? What was he to do now?

He couldn't go back to Camelot. Gwen would rule now, and he was certain that she would do well. She would also welcome him back in a heartbeat, but he couldn't bring himself to return to the place where every step he took would remind him of Arthur and how much he had failed. But where else was he to go?

He both longed to flee the world – to pass beyond the ken of man – and to remain among civilisation; to isolate himself, and joy in companionship.

"Why?" His head jerked up, and he shouted across the lake, "What could I have done differently – what should I have done differently? I should have saved you!"

Silence fell again, even the birds hushing their songs in the wake of his sudden words. He let out a shuddering sigh and slumped down, falling over to his side as he gave in to the exhaustion that had stalked him for the last year.

It was over, for better or worse. There was nothing that could be done now – nothing that could be changed. Camelot would mourn its king and move on; and perhaps their would be some that thought of himself before he was forgotten, swept aside by the exploits of knights and lords – and even ladies. Gaius would miss him, as would his mother – but he was too tired. He was too broken to get up, to return. There was nothing left for him...

As the boy closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep, memories – promises – played through his mind; and he was at peace at last. The last thing he heard was the heavy sound of wings above him, and the sound of someone leaving the lake.

All that you have dreamt of building has come to pass. Take heart, for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. It has been a privilege to have known you – the story we have been a part of will live long in the hearts of man.

Sometimes I think I know you – other times...

Well, I know you. One day, you'll be a great king.

We haven't done all of the things we're meant to do!

That is the lament of all men...

I'm happy to be your servant 'til the day I die.

AN: Inspired by Heather Dale's song Mordred's Lullaby - yes, I changed the lyrics for the second quote. A timeline: the first segment is set around age ten - he's old enough to notice differences in the world, but still innocent; the second segment is set sometime during the fifth series, after he kills Agravaine; the third is (obviously) set immediately after Arthur dies. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! Gramercy, and God bless you!