Disclaimer: IDOM

AN: Hello! This is the sequel, you can say, to Oathbreaker. I was convinced to do the breakfast by several people, and after some help with some brainstorming, I got the inspiration. I was going to put it as a third chapter in Oathbreaker, but this took a mind of its own, so now I'm posting it as a separate story. This WILL be a two-shot. :) The more angsty stuff is in this chapter, and there is A LOT more Merlin-Hunith bonding than bromance. My attempts at a few of the humorous tales will be the next chapter.

Enjoy!

"He did say that the Princess Elena was to visit soon, didn't he?" Lancelot mused to the silent room.

"Wait," Gwaine said, his voice muffled into his arm. He hadn't bothered to pick up his head from the table, "Was that the obnoxious one that's still under a love spell? Or the unkempt one that was possessed by a blue fairy?"

"Sidhe," Lancelot corrected.

"Bless you."

Gwen rolled her eyes at her hung-over friend. "The latter, Gwaine," she answered, remembering Elena with a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a certain admiration for her poise and gracious nature. The other woman…she did not remember too fondly. "The other was Lady Vivian."

"Oh, that's right," Gwaine agreed, turning his head, revealing his blurry eyes, and sprawling out further on the table. "Wasn't Elena clumsier than Merlin?"

Leon smirked and said off-handedly, "While the fairy was in her, yes." His brow furrowed suddenly. "No, Lancelot. It can't be her. Princess Elena isn't meant to visit for another week or so."

"Besides," Elyan pointed out, "Arthur specifically said that formal wear was unnecessary. If it was her, we'd be in our cloaks and 'mail."

Looking surprised by Elyan's sensible comment, a panicked Lancelot looked down at himself as though he had forgotten what he had pulled on that morning. "Right," he said in embarrassment, rubbing his eyes; he did have late patrol the past two nights, after all.

"Well, who the hell else could it be?" Gwaine growled grumpily.

"That's the question, isn't it?" Percival mused, frowning at his protesting stomach and grimacing at the jabs and rumbles.

It was extraordinarily late when they heard knocks at their door. Whether it was at the tavern or at their homes in their night-clothes, drunk or sober, sleepy and grumpy or awake and cheerful, they had all opened their doors to messengers, and they had received invitations to have the morning meal together to welcome and celebrate a visitor.

A visitor. They were given no name, no clue as to who it was. Just "a visitor." Albeit confused, they all accepted (Gwaine rather reluctantly so) and came to the council chambers at the appropriate time.

They had been waiting with anticipation, healthy appetites, and boredom for a solid fifteen minutes, and they passed the time by trying to guess who the mystery visitor might be.

"And where the hell is our most royal Highness and Merlin?" Gwaine asked sarcastically.

"Arthur's probably dragging Merlin out of bed again," Percival said, laughing.

"It may just as well be the opposite," Gwen added jokingly, knowing well of Merlin's less-than-gentle waking methods and Arthur's irritability to being awoken in such a manner. If you passed through that particular corridor at the right time in the mornings, it wasn't uncommon to hear Arthur yelling at Merlin, the following clank of an empty goblet being thrown, and the humorous bite of Merlin's sarcasm. In fact, some walked that way just to get a good laugh in before the beginning of a busy, stressful day.

"Either way, we shouldn't have to wait for them to start eating!" Gwaine protested; he was convinced he was just as, if not more, hungry than Percival (which is a feat within itself). "Is it so hard for him to not foresee this and take it upon himself to think that—oh, I don't know—after asking us to get out of bed so early for some damn mysterious stranger, it might have been nice to have the cooks leave us a little something to nibble on while we wait?"

"Testy, are we?" Leon asked sarcastically.

Gwaine raised his head from the table slowly; his face might have been deceptively calm, but his eyes danced with rebellious, defensive fire. He opened his mouth furiously, clearly about to retort with a witty insult, but instead, he belched obnoxiously, causing all of them, who had been riled to fight and bicker, to leap up in surprise at its volume, give Gwaine an utterly awed look, and burst into hysterics. Gwaine sat back, looking pleased with himself.

Gwen made an unladylike noise of disapproval and flinched away violently. The men only laughed harder at her reaction. "You are all barbarians," Gwen announced disgustedly, appalled by their behavior. "How people mistake you for noble gentlemen is beyond me."

"Aw, c'mon, Gwen!" Gwaine said with a wide cheerful smile, his bad mood suddenly dissipating without a trace. About as fickle as the weather, Gwen commented to herself wryly. "You know you love us."

Despite herself, Gwen found herself smiling back. Nevertheless, she said sharply, "And you better know that I'd love for you to not scare away whoever's breakfasting with us! Arthur obviously respects and cares enough for—"

The doors were suddenly thrown open, cutting Gwen off, and Arthur and Gaius strode in. Stumbling behind them, as always, was Merlin, whose hair was still sleep-tousled and whose sunny grin immediately filled Gwen up with warmth, and next to him…

"Merlin, mate!" Gwaine shouted excitedly, leaping up. "You never told me you had a sister!"

Eyes prickling with happy tears, Gwen choked out a watery laugh as Merlin, who quirked an eyebrow and frowned with severe confusion, looked back at the fourth member of their party bewilderedly. The mother raised her eyebrows at her son, trying to hide a smile of amusement.

"I assume that's Gwaine?" Gwen heard her say in an undertone to Merlin and Arthur. Gwen couldn't stop a giggle from escaping her—they obviously prepared her.

"Got it in one," Arthur mumbled.

She looked just as Gwen remembered her. Her clear blue eyes—eyes that may have had a different shade than her son's but held the same soft texture of compassion, sense of humor, and astute intelligence—her tender smile, her gentle gestures and voice…

Memories flooded back to Gwen of the woman's bravery and fighting spirit, her caring heart and generosity. She remembered meeting her with curiosity—Merlin had just simply… entered her life, and he became a friend so effortlessly, without so much as a thought. He never spoke about his past, so she couldn't help but feel curious about the woman who raised him just as much as she couldn't help but love her.

Gwen rushed over and enveloped the woman with an embrace, exclaiming, "Oh, Hunith; it's really great to see you again!"

Merlin's mother beamed. "Hullo, Gwen." She pulled away and surveyed the younger woman. "It has been too long, hasn't it? I believe the last time I saw you I was bedridden with a strange illness and delirious," she said happily. Gwen winced at the memory, but she smiled at Hunith's happy, care-free tone despite the darkness of the situation she had been in. It resembled her happy-go-lucky son's so much that it was actually kind of unnerving.

Behind her, Merlin's jaw grew tense. Gaius and Arthur both gave him a concerned look, but it went unnoticed by him as Gwaine sauntered over, followed by the rest of the curious Knights.

"Hunith?" Gwaine asked, frowning. "Isn't that your mother's name, Merlin?"

Arthur covered a snort ungracefully with a cough, and Gwen saw a familiar gleam and teasing light filter into Merlin's eye. He grabbed Hunith's hand and pulled her to his side, a merciless grin on his face. "Yeah, Gwaine. This is my mother."

Gwaine's face went red as the Knights and Gwen burst out laughing. "I never thought I'd see the day that Gwaine could be described as bashful," Merlin teased.

Gwaine shot him a look, and said to Hunith, "My mistake. You look extremely alike."

"Cannot deny that," Leon admitted. "It is a pleasure, ma'am. I'm Leon." The rest of the Knights echoed his greeting and introduced themselves, their eyes intensely curious as the small woman in front of them smiled in recognition of each name.

Hunith brushed away a trailing lock of dark hair that had fallen from her color-washed bandana and smiled. "Call me Hunith, Leon. Ma'am makes me feel…"

"Old?" Merlin offered cheerily.

She shoved him playfully. "More… impersonal," she corrected.

Hunith shrugged. "I've heard a lot about all of you, and I should say thank you. For keeping Merlin safe."

The Knights exchanged a look. "I think it was more the other way around," Lancelot said proudly.

"He might've been watching out for us all, but someone had to watch over him," Gaius mumbled. Merlin scowled.

"Selfless idiot," Arthur muttered in agreement, cuffing Merlin lightly around the ear.

"Hey! I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."

"I beg to differ," Arthur shot back. "You're always managing to land yourself in trouble!"

To the amusement of the Knights, Hunith tilted her head slightly and raised her brows once, a gesture of complete agreement. Gwen's curiosity leapt. Now that they knew about Merlin's magic…who knows what stories Hunith had to share?

"I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"Gaius is right. That's only because we're there to make sure you don't do anything stupid and get yourself killed!"

"C'mon, you lot," Gwen interrupted, ushering them over to the table and breaking Arthur and Merlin apart before they could go off on each other. "Why don't we all get comfortable? I'll send for the food."

They all did as they were told, and soon she rejoined them, saying that the food would be there soon.

"So, why the late start, Arthur? Merlin?" Percival asked, eyes dancing. "Who had to shag who out of bed this time?"

Gaius and Hunith exchanged amused looks as both Arthur and Merlin shut up and avoided each other's eyes.

"Actually, I had to wake both of them," Hunith said. "Those two fell asleep on each other last night in Gaius's chambers."

"Mum!" Merlin complained over the raucous laughter of the Knights, his ears burning. Arthur gave Gwen, who was giggling uncontrollably, a sheepish look.

She gave her son an evil grin. "It was rather cute," she admitted.

"Cute?" Arthur asked in disbelief, wrinkling his nose. "He was drooling on me!"

"I don't drool," Merlin denied.

"Look who's bashful now!" Gwaine mocked, wiping tears off his face.

"I'm sure I'm going to be more than bashful by the time this is over," Merlin groaned. Arthur suddenly brightened, his sapphire eyes shining with eagerness. Turning to Hunith, he accused, "You're planning my murder by mortification. You aren't going to be merciful to your only son, are you?"

"Nope," Hunith said brightly. "I've waited far too long for an opportunity like this."

"For what?" Elyan said, not following.

Hunith's face was by all means innocent, but her smile and eyes hinted at something a lot less than innocence. "Story-time," she said.

"That's rather frightening," Arthur said. "You and Merlin really look alike when you smile diabolically like that."

"Diabolically?" Merlin repeated to himself rhetorically.

Gwaine laughed, settling back further into his chair. "This is going to be brilliant."

The mother waved her hand offhandedly. "But there's time for that later. I've heard a lot about you from Merlin, obviously, but I want to hear from you. Tell me about yourselves."

Until the food arrived, they talked, and she listened with rapt attention, laughing and making just as many witty comments as Merlin himself did. The Knights took to her extraordinarily quickly, and open and friendly, they talked as though they were the oldest of friends. They certainly did not hold any part of their vibrant, unique personalities back.

When the food arrived, Hunith had to wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her dress. The topic had moved to how they first reacted to learning of Merlin's magic, and she was touched and moved by what they had to say about her son.

The servants moved about efficiently and quickly, naturally nervous under the watchful and polite silence of the King, his soon-to-be Queen (there were many bets amongst them on when exactly he was going to ask the gentle-mannered Gwen to marry him), and his most trusted Knights. But, when they noticed that the newly instated Court Sorcerer was also among those they served, their nervousness and awkwardness increased tenfold.

Hunith watched as the Knights, Arthur, and even Gwen grew increasingly frustrated—she saw it in their hard eyes and tense jaws—by the fearful eyes and the way they moved and skirted about Merlin. Merlin, on the other hand, did not look bothered, though he did look like he felt the need to get up and help, but Hunith knew better. She saw how much it hurt him.

One boy, visibly shaking, reached around Merlin to place a dish full of fruit in the last spot unoccupied by any plates, and it slipped from his hands, nearly crashing onto Merlin. Merlin's eyes flashed gold, and the young boy couldn't help but yelp as the dish gently placed itself on the table, not even dropping a single berry. Merlin's eyes did not even have the chance to fade back into their odd blue color because as the servant flinched away, he tripped over his own feet and would have gone plummeting to the floor had not Merlin used magic once again.

The servants watching couldn't contain gasps at the sight. They had worked alongside Merlin for a long, long time, but the man before them was someone new and unknown. A sorcerer.

Once back on his feet, Merlin smiled at the boy, and said kindly, "Careful."

The boy gaped and stuttered apologies hurriedly.

Merlin laughed. "It's alright. Don't worry about it. My clumsiness has gotten to me in enough trouble when I was serving King Arthur to be happy to catch your spill. Though, looking back, it would have been a lot more beneficial to me then if magic was free…I wouldn't have ended up in the stocks so often."

The boy's looked wary and hesitant before, but after Merlin's joke and his reference to his previous status as a servant, he cracked a grin and bowed. "Thank ye, Merlin Emrys."

Arthur released a breath and smiled at the warlock, dismissing the servants and thanking them. They left gratefully, whispering all the while.

Once they had gone, Merlin sighed. "It's almost as if they think I'm going to bite their head off."

Before Hunith could comfort him, Arthur did. "Don't worry, Merlin. You continue to surprise me with your openness and goodwill towards them. They'll warm up; they already are."

"I know, but I need to make sure I'm not pushing them away from the transition. Am I really that intimidating?" He asked worriedly. "Was there something in my face or…?"

"Are you serious, Merlin?" Gwaine exclaimed, piling sausage onto his plate. Percival was already shoveling down his food.

"You, along with Hunith and Gwen, looked like you were seconds away from leaping up and helping them set the table," Lancelot pointed out. "That's anything but intimidating."

"We knew the challenges," Arthur said. "But I can't help but feel—frustrated."

Merlin smirked. "I'll probably have to save Camelot from a massive invasion or save your life to get them all to completely warm up."

"Don't say that!" Arthur said. "You'll end up jinxing our luck. There hasn't been anything major since the Gvarath…unless you count that little incident with Godwin, and I'd rather it didn't change."

"Speaking of Godwin, I'm actually surprised that no one has targeted you or Merlin yet, actually, since you lifted the ban," Leon said thoughtfully.

"Aren't you worried for him? For them?" Gwen asked aside to Hunith, who was showing little emotion on their topic of assassination.

"Of course I am," Hunith answered, eyes not leaving her son. "But I'm always worried, and I've accepted that. Besides, who am I to stop him from using magic for awhile until things die down? I couldn't possibly. It is his purpose and his drive. That is who he is, and now, he shouldn't be afraid to hide it." She smiled wryly, adding, "And I haven't a chance to convince him to watch himself with that stubborn head of his. He'll be alright. He always is…as is Arthur."

"That's because they're all too terrified that they'll meet the wrath of Merlin Emrys," Elyan was teasing.

Merlin snorted in disbelief.

"You can be scary when you're angry," Gwen admitted, jumping into the conversation again. "Not angry as in frustrated and annoyed with Arthur. I mean, genuinely angry. I wouldn't have wanted to be on the receiving end of that look you gave Arthur when he told you he saw the Prophecy written about you two."

The warlock looked uncomfortable and gave Arthur an apologetic look. "Nothing good comes of those who know the future beforehand. I didn't want him to make the same mistakes I did, and if he—or I, for that matter—read it, the consequences would be severe."

Arthur nodded in fierce agreement. After hearing Merlin's story, he knew better than to meddle with the present to change the future. Any desire to touch that book again was long gone. "What did happen to that book, Merlin?"

"I studied it a bit, under Gaius's eye, of course—got a few handy spells, might I add—and I put it back in the Vaults with some serious protective spells around it. We cannot afford to lose that book."

"Good."

Suddenly staring at the plate, Merlin seemed to doze off into his own little world, deep in thought, and Hunith noticed that Merlin had not eaten so much as a single bite of food. "Merlin," she said. Her son's multifaceted blue eyes flicked from his plate to her. "Relax and eat. Or do you want me to force-feed you?"

The Knights watched with complete amazement as the ex-servant, who they could never get to eat, dutifully began to eat full bites of food.

"How did you do that?" Arthur blurted.

"Do what?" Hunith asked, confused.

"Never mind," Arthur said, studying Merlin. "I want to figure it out myself."

They ate in companionable silence for awhile before Arthur spoke again. "I've been meaning to ask you, Hunith," he began curiously. "Merlin told us he was born with magic—I believe him; it's just that…how did you know? How did you find out?"

Hunith was silent, and she looked at her lap for some time before a small smile began to break out on her face. When she looked up, she began, "I have never told anyone the story of Merlin's birth. Not even him."

Merlin and the rest of the group's attentions were immediately caught by the enchanting tone her voice adopted.

"Mum?" Merlin asked surprised. "You always told me I was just…moving things, and then you said there were times I set fire to your skirts and made plants grow."

"You did," Hunith said. "But that wasn't how I first learned that you were magic."

Merlin sat back, stunned. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You never asked, dear, and to be honest, as much as it is a happy memory, it is also one of the saddest I have."

"In what way?" Gwen asked softly.

Hunith smiled. "You know as well as I that babies cry when they are born, but Merlin… he came out of the womb completely silent, eyes closed."

Gwen's hand flew to her mouth to cover a gasp, and everyone's eyes shot to Merlin, who was staring wide-eyed at his mother.

"It's almost humorous to think about it now, seeing as he won't ever stop talking," Hunith teased weakly. The Knights chuckled just as weakly. "But then, it was anything but. The midwife had never seen a newborn that did not cry, that did not open its eyes…If he wasn't breathing, you would have thought him dead. After a few hours, his state did not change; she and I both feared that he wasn't going to survive.

"It was more painful than the day that Balinor left to go into hiding," Hunith said. "The midwife's apologizes and sympathies fell on deaf ears; they just washed over my head. I stared at him in my arms, the son he left me, the only child I knew that I would ever have, and i—it was an out-of-body feeling, almost. I felt detached and lost because I was fighting against logic, fighting against the reality, fighting to not give up on him but also trying not to cling to too much hope.

"I do remember the midwife telling me that it was useless to name him—not that I had thought of the right name yet anyway—and that's when I just wanted to be alone and her gone. I pulled him to my chest and thanked her to make her leave.

"Soon after she did, I began to walk. I just walked, my eyes always on him, and I prayed—to every god and spirit that I knew or heard of—that I would have the chance to name him…have the chance to raise him, know him, see him grow." Hunith choked and paused briefly, clearing her throat.

"I don't know where I was going; I don't know what I was looking for, but I suddenly broke away from the little world I was in and found myself in a wide field. It was beautiful. The fireflies were still out, and the stars fanned above me in a giant arc. There, I finally stopped, dropped to my knees, and began to cry.

"I looked at him, and then at the stars. They mere expanse of the sky made me feel so insignificant and small, and I remember feeling…angry, almost. Angry that the Fates had decided this for him without giving him a chance to prove himself…

"It was then that I spotted a bird flying gracefully overhead. I thought it was an owl, but it was…sleeker, you could say, and it moved differently. When I squinted, I saw that it wasn't an owl, but a hawk.

"It was strange. Hawks don't hunt at night, and yet, there it was. I watched it fly; it was beautiful, powerful, strong, and proud. All hawks are. But then there was something so inspirational and special about this hawk… in its strangeness, its loneliness, and its freedom to defy all rules and definitions of its kind. I remember wondering what caused it to fly that night and found myself imagining that it was flying simply for the joy of flight, with no other reason than to soar and dream.

"I remembered my father, who traveled across many lands as a bard, telling me that hawks represented messengers and protectors to ancient peoples. They had the gift of keen eyesight, and they saw what others could not often see—both inside the body and out. In this way, the hawk is the symbol of awareness, truth, and clarity. He told me that they believed that when a hawk appeared to you, it was a sign that you were opening your eyes for the first time to your true destiny, and they thought that the hawk could teach you how fly nearly as high as they, but also remain modest enough to stay tied to the ground.

"Once the hawk passed over us, my son stirred in my arms, moving for the first time. My heart pounded with surprise, and when I quickly and hopefully looked down at him, his eyes opened…pure gold.

"His magic touched me. I could never forget its warmth as it filled me and everything around me. It surged through the very air, and it danced like the fireflies. It was really a glorious feeling—and made all the better because I knew that he would live.

"Before I could so much as reach to wipe away the first tear of happiness, the magic faded from his eyes, leaving them blue, and he looked up at me before beginning to finally cry. I had never been so happy to hear a baby cry, and that was when I fully realized what I had seen. He had been only been born with magic, he was magic.

"Was I afraid? No. He was alive, and that was all that mattered to me at the moment. Did I think that life was going to be challenging? No. Did I suspect that he would grow up feeling different and alone? No. Did I think that he and I would both live in fear for most of our lives? No. Did I realize that he was going to have to lie and hide who he truly was day in and day out? No. Did I realize what part he would come to play? No. Did I foresee him becoming so powerful? No. Did I know what I was going to do when those answers became 'yes's? No. I simply hugged him for all I was worth, and I thanked the gods… and went home.

"As I walked home, I decided to name him after that strange hawk—the one that flew at night just because it wanted to feel free—and it wasn't until many years later that I realized just how fitting the name was."

When she finished, she found herself surrounded by awed, tear-stained faces. They seemed to move as one towards Merlin, who whispered, "I'm sorry, Mum."

"Whatever for?" Hunith asked in surprise.

"For—scaring you like that."

"Merlin, hon," Hunith said gently and lovingly. "It was meant to happen, and I was ignorant to the higher plan. Destiny was toying with you even then, and you lived. Isn't that what matters?"

He reached for her hand and squeezed it, and you could see their eyes conveying how much they loved each other.

"After nearly losing him like that," Gwen began slowly, "or rather, thinking you were going to lose him, how did you manage to…let him go? Come here?"

Hunith looked around the group—no, the family—and finally rested her eyes on Merlin, her young hawk…

"It was time for him to soar."

AN: I hope that that was an acceptable, unique, and refreshing way of seeing Merlin's magic-from-birth, and I hope you all liked how I wrote how Hunith chose the name Merlin. :) All symbolism I found for the hawk was found via Google. :D

Next chappie will have two humorous (or as humorous as I can make them) stories from Merlin's past: one told by Hunith and the other by Merlin. I look forward to them. One was inspired by ForIHaveOvercomeTheWorld (Thank you again!) and 1x10 (this will include Will), and the other I thought of when I was swimming (this one will probably not include Will). I was streamline kicking on my back and began snickering to myself, which was probably really strange to those who heard me. I find it funny because it's going to connect to something said in SMN, but I can't promise anything so funny that you'll start slapping your knees and crying. :P As always, I'll do my best.