Different

Written for the Tumblr blog – Merlin Memory Month 2018.

Day 1:

Path I – "Being different is nothing to be afraid of"

Path III – Emotion/Mood: Kindness

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"Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair, but manifestations of strength and resolution."

― Kahlil Gibran

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The logs in the hearth had burned down to nothing more than smoldering embers when the door finally creaked open and a dirty, exhausted shadow slipped inside.

From the corner where he sat unnoticed and hidden in the gloom of night, Gaius watched his boy turn and quietly fasten the latch, pausing for just a moment to lean his head against the old wood, shoulders sagging toward the floor as if pulled by the weight of the very earth herself, before he pushed away and crept through their chambers and up to his tiny room.

Gaius sighed.

This marked the third time in as many weeks Merlin had slunk back in the dead of night in an attempt to keep his mentor from seeing as he licked his wounds and nursed his aching heart.

But he did see. He saw it all – the torn and muddy clothes, the hidden bruises, the fake smile that didn't even come close to covering the pain and confusion in those innocent, blue eyes.

Gaius sighed again and stood, ignoring the protests of his weary bones, then gathered up his medical bag and a bowl of water and climbed the three short steps.

This pretending had gone on long enough.

When the old physician pushed open the door, the lad was sitting dejectedly on the edge of his bed, jacket half off as if he started to remove it but just couldn't muster the energy. Merlin didn't move; didn't even look up or attempt to wipe away the silent tears that slid down his bruised and filthy face. Gaius placed the water bowl on the small table, then sat beside him, heart breaking for this young boy he'd come to love so unexpectedly and so fiercely over the last few months.

"The kitchen boys again?" he asked, gently easing the stained jacket the rest of the way off and setting it aside, before turning his attention to the ruined tunic.

Merlin shook his head but allowed his ministrations without protest, all fight seeming to have drained away. "No. That was last week. Tonight it was the squires and stable boys turn to play kick the peasant."

Tunic removed, Gaius's frown deepened as the moonlight coming through Merlin's small window illuminated the cuts, abrasions, and bruises that littered his ward's skin.

"I thought it would be different here," Merlin's vulnerable whisper broke the silence after a moment. "I thought I would get a fresh start. That I could blend in and just be normal. Just Merlin."

With gentle hands, Gaius wet a rag in the bowl and started cleaning the boy's raw skin as the tears and sniffs grew louder and Merlin raised a hand to scrub angrily at his face.

"They hate me, Gaius, and they don't even know me. They don't even know about the magic or that I don't have a father or that I have some stupid, all-important destiny. They don't know any of that, but they still hate me!" he cried, and Gaius set the rag aside, gathering his boy into his arms instead and cradling Merlin's head against his own.

"They're jealous is what they are," he answered softly.

Merlin scoffed, though it came out more like a smothered sob. "Of what? The peasant stink I set wafting through the castle? Or maybe of the gargantuan ears, or the fact I can't take more than five steps without tripping over my own worthless feet?" He choked on his words and suddenly it was too much. The boy's arms were slipping around Gaius, trembling as he clung on for dear life, the tears and the sobs rolling off of him in waves and reminding the old man exactly how young this boy still was.

"I've never had a quilt before, or a horse, or two sets of dishes let alone twelve! I can't help not knowing all the right things to do as a servant or in a castle!" His words were spilling out now, in breathless, hiccupping masses as all the pent up anguish of his heart burst forth. "And I try so hard not to be clumsy, to watch and to learn…but it's no use. I'm no use…for anything. To anyone."

Anger and indignation filled Gaius – to a level he'd never felt before, not for anyone. The fury of a…a parent, he realized with a slight shock, to the point he found himself momentarily consumed with the desire to track down these serving lads and squires and return pain for pain. But he forcefully pushed it away – no good had ever come from revenge, and he was only a weak, old man.

Still, he made a mental list of those whose medicinal potions would be tasting extra foul for the foreseeable future.

"And what of Arthur?" he asked instead, hoping to steer his ward back from the edge of despair he was teetering on.

Merlin finally pulled away, sitting up and carding a shaky hand through his muck-crusted hair, bits of the filth flaking off to float down through the moonlit air around them. "He thinks I'm a useless servant, too, you know. He fired me."

"And promptly re-hired you, with an apology I gather."

"He yells at me. And throws things at my head. And gives me all the worst jobs."

"But he also laughs with you—"

"— at me—"

"—and drags you everywhere, and lets you get away with calling him ridiculous names. No one else, not even the squires and knights he grew up with, gets away with that, my boy."

Merlin sighed and picked up the rag Gaius had set aside. Gingerly, he starting to work at the dirt smeared across his bruised face.

"Are you saying he doesn't think I'm worthless, because I guarantee he does. He assures me I am at least three times a day."

"He also defied his father and faced a cave full of deadly, magical spiders to retrieve a tiny flower and save your life," Gaius reminded him softly, patting his arm tenderly as he gazed into his still watery eyes.

Merlin looked away, hands falling back into his lap, fingers wringing the now filthy rag. "I'm just so tired of being different, Gaius," he finally breathed. "The magic and the destiny and the hiding are bad enough. Why do I also have to be a stupid, ugly, clumsy fool?"

Gaius's heart shattered at little more at the self-depreciating words coming from his wonderful boy, and he shook his head, searching his mind for the right things to say, the way to make Merlin understand just how special he was. "You're right," he said quietly. "You are different, Merlin, but not in appearance, or skills, or anything such as that. Do you know what differences I see, that your mother sees? That Gwen and your other friends see, and even Arthur might even be starting to catch a glimpse of?

"I see a young man who is brave. Who is unfailingly kind to everyone, even those who have not been kind to him. I see a boy who possess the greatest ability to be selfless and think of others before himself that I have ever witnessed. I see a servant who returns day after day to an overwhelming and mostly thankless job, who still smiles and jokes, and who treats a pompous and spoiled prince like just another lad – which is exactly what said pompous and spoiled prince needs, though he doesn't know it. You've crept under his skin and come to mean something to him, even if he can't admit it yet. You're his friend, and he yours, and that makes you different from any other lad or servant or young squire that has set foot inside this castle since the day that stubborn prince was born."

Merlin was watching him now, still and quiet with his eyes wide, so Gaius pressed on.

"Friendship is the real magic, Merlin. Friendship and love and kindness. Courage, gentleness… Those things will always hold more power than spells or swords or even kings and their armies. And possessing those traits, practicing and cultivating them…those are differences worth having, my boy."

Merlin sniffed, reaching up to rub at a particularly vicious looking bruise – one that suspiciously resembled the toe of a boot – on his shoulder. "It still hurts, though," he muttered.

"Yes, I imagine it does," Gaius agreed, standing up and taking the rag from his ward, rinsing it out so he could continue his work of healing.

"And it's still not fair."

"No, it's not," Gaius agreed again.

"And my ears are still way too huge," Merlin pouted dejectedly.

Gaius smiled. "There are worse body parts to have sized slightly out of proportion."

For the first time since he'd returned that night, Merlin grinned. "Yeah. Could have been my whole head – like Prince Prat."

"You have to be awake to serve said prince in a few short hours, so hold still now and let me finish patching you up."

Merlin groaned, glancing out the window and noticing exactly how far the moon had traveled across the night sky.

"Do you think he'll believe I fell down the stairs again?" the boy asked, voice quiet once more. Gaius dabbed at a rather nasty looking cut just in front of one of those unique ears, drawing a startled hiss from his ward.

"No," he answered sharply.

The honest truth was that the boy was a mess. Three beatings in less than a month on top of almost dying from poison had worked him over to the point Gaius thought it a wonder he was still moving at all. Stubbornness was also one of those traits his boy possessed, though the old physician had purposefully failed to list that one. No need to encourage the lad.

"So, what do I tell him?"

"Perhaps you might try the truth?"

"So he can laugh at me, too?"

"Did the brutes damage your hearing as well as your skin, or did you selectively not listen to anything I just told you?" Gaius groused, fighting the urge to cuff the boy on the back of the head. He imagined the young man already had a pounding headache. "Arthur cares for you, in a way he hasn't ever cared for any other servant. And he's already different from the arrogant prince you meet three months ago. Give him another chance to grow and do the right thing, and then trust him to do it. I believe it will help you both in the end."

Merlin opened his mouth, probably to protest again, but Gaius thrust a potion into his hand. "Drink that," he ordered before the lad could speak. "All of it."

The boy obeyed, further proof of exactly how tired and sore he was.

"Now, sleep," Gaius continued, clearing the small bed of his medical supplies and pushing the boy gently down toward the pillow. "No bones are broken. You can finish cleaning up properly in the morning and then I'll bind up the worst sprains and bruises once the swelling has gone down." He reached over and carefully tugged off Merlin's much-worn boots, placing them on the floor before drawing the thin covers up over the exhausted lad.

"Thank you, Gaius," Merlin whispered, squeezing his wrist and gazing at him with eyes full of love – something he never would have imagined three months ago. "For caring for me. And for not caring that I'm different."

"It is those very differences that make me care so much for you, my boy," Gaius assured him gently, his heart full. "Now rest."

And as Merlin's eyes drifted shut and he finally allowed sleep to claim him, Gaius stayed by his side, sitting on the edge of the bed. Softly, he smoothed back the messy hair, patted the calloused hands, and thanked the gods for giving him such a wonderful, gentle and good, and remarkably different boy to love with all his heart in his twilight years.

Author's Note:
To anyone who is reading my novel "Silence Cuts Loudest…" it has not been abandoned, I promise. The plot I had so carefully planned out has just morphed and changed. Hopefully for the better and in a way readers will enjoy. But it meant that I had to take it back to the bones and re-outline the rest of the story before I dared keep writing, to ensure I wouldn't mess it up. I'm almost finished and should be back to writing it within the month.

Thanks for your patience! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this little one-shot. As always, I would love to hear what you think and will respond to all comments and reviews.

Thanks! And a special shout-out to Missy for always continuing to make my Merlin muse thrive!