Chapter Text
Gaius carefully ladled porridge into three bowls instead of two. He sprinkled some cinnamon and a few other herbs on the top to sweeten the meal and provide some additional, much needed nutrients. If one bowl held less porridge than the other two, the children need never know.
Of course, getting them to eat their share at all would prove tedious.
The morning before, he woke before the sun made its way into the high windows to the door to Merlin’s room gliding open. The soft noise usually didn’t wake him. Then, Merlin almost never woke before him. His late night activities ensured it.
So, when he saw a girl slip out of the room before closing the door as gently as possible, he feigned sleep.
He wasn’t as surprised as he might have been to recognize Eira.
She scurried out of their chambers without a word or waking either of them. She must have slipped in with Merlin the night before and spent the night in his bed. While the thought made him raise an eyebrow, he knew it likely wasn’t anything untoward.
No, Merlin wasn’t nearly as sneaky as he thought he was.
He could recognize when something bothered the boy. And something had been bothering him in the last few days. The idea that that something might have to do with Eira wasn’t a stretch. Even Gaius noticed how Eira’s demeanor changed in the last season — ever since Merlin took over as Arthur’s manservant, as it was.
The physician in him couldn’t help but compare her to the bruised and broken children of foreign noblemen who limped into his chambers only to shy away from his touch. They often came with wide, wild eyes and simple stories for their injuries. Even more often, those injuries didn’t match falling down the stairs or knocking their head against a wall.
The key to treating those children was getting them to trust him. Not enough to tell him their stories, he didn’t need confirmation. No, he needed them to trust him enough to come to him when they were injured so he could help.
It was much like calming a frightened wild animal.
When he fed Eira the other day, she looked just as timid, just as cautious of his kindness, something he’d never seen before on her — and he had known Eira since she came into the world far too early.
Just as he suspected, the door to Merlin’s chambers slipped open silently again, the same as it had the morning prior. Eira stepped into his chambers, back turned to him as she focused on not waking Merlin with her escape. She didn’t notice the increased light from the fire or the sharp scent of the herbs he just used.
Not until she turned and saw him.
The twitch of surprise she gave made pain flash across her features so quickly Gaius had to hold himself rigid not to react.
Moving toward her wouldn’t help.
“Good morning.” Gaius raised one sharp eyebrow when the girl’s attention flicked to the door.
He knew she wasn’t above running away from him. She spent much of her youth roaming the halls of the castle with the prince and the king’s ward. If she wanted to disappear, she could.
Thankfully, his usual method of dealing with unruly youths worked once again.
“Sit, break fast with me.” Gaius tilted his head toward the table. If he ordered them to do his bidding with a stern enough tone, most children did as told.
Eira proved no exception. She glanced longingly toward the door leading into the hall even as she arranged her skirts and looked up through her lashes at him.
He took a moment to examine her critically.
Sunken cheeks made her cheekbones, usually soft in her face, look sharper. Dark circles rung her eyes, though he knew Merlin would insist she sleep in the bed. She sat stiffly, leaning to the left, a sure sign her right ribs were injured. He could see the way her skin stretched across bone, something he'd never before seen on this particular girl. The royal family always made sure she ate her fill, never letting her want for anything.
Until now.
A sense of foreboding hit him.
This wasn’t something that could have happened overnight. The caution and the fear was ingrained now, too deep to ignore. He noticed she looked thin the last time she visited his chambers, but she looked practically skeletal now. He didn’t need to do a further examination to diagnose malnutrition and exhaustion.
What did Merlin know that had him bringing her into his rooms at night?
“That bowl is for you. I expect you to eat as much of it as possible.” He hadn’t forgotten how she pushed most of the last meal he fed her onto Merlin. It showed how small her appetite had gotten. Now, he suspected it was from starvation rather than anything else.
Eira carefully picked up a spoon, stirring the contents curiously. Then, she looked up at him again. “How did you know I was here?”
“Merlin isn’t as sneaky as he thinks he is. Besides, I heard you leave yesterday.” Gaius offered a gentle smile, taking the seat opposite her and leaving the one next to her open for Merlin.
A line appeared between her eyebrows as she considered that.
Gaius resolved not to ask about her accommodations or why she felt the need to sneak out before either of them woke in the morning. Instead, he took a bite of his porridge and waited until she automatically did the same.
He watched her and remembered the night a tiny squalling babe made her way into the world. Young Anwena gave birth only three years after Ygraine’s death and Arthur’s birth. Her daughter, Eira, came into the world with a head of dark hair that would soon lighten, and no lines on her hands. Birthed too early, Gaius spent nights with the babe as her mother slept, exhausted from taking care of a child come too soon.
It was on one such night that a particularly rambunctious prince slipped into the room with them. He knew where his nursemaid’s room was as it was down the hall from his nursery. And he knew he was meant to come to her should nightmares wake him — even now, so soon after giving birth to her own child.
Only, Arthur wasn’t looking for Anwena.
“Wh’s tha’?” The toddler asked in a horrid lisp from the fingers stuck in his mouth. He came right up to Gaius.
Arthur showed remarkable friendliness. He often tugged on Gaius’s long robes to get his attention, asking all manner of ridiculous question. Only the king’s disregard for those questions kept Gaius’s patience, and he spent an inordinate amount of time answering those queries as seriously as he thought the toddler could handle.
“This is Eira, Anwena’s daughter.” Gaius turned, younger then, and crouched while holding the babe to show the curious prince.
Arthur’s big blue eyes stared at the tiny bundle. “Small.”
“She will be small for quite some time. She must grow, just as you do.”
It was a miracle that both mother and daughter lived through the birth.
A lone noblewoman stood outside the room awaiting news that night, her back straight and head held high. The lines on her face deepened the longer the screams went on until the silence drew the color from her face. Gaius was called in only after the midwife managed to deliver the babe, her assistant’s hands still bloody when she rushed out for help to save them. The woman only left the birthing rooms once sure both mother and child would live through the night, something relaxing in her features at the news.
Gaius kept the woman’s identity and her connection to the mother and daughter secret for many years to come.
“She can play?” Arthur asked, looking doubtfully at the baby.
“Not yet. You remember the puppies in the kennels?” Gaius waited until Arthur hummed his answer. “It’s similar here. Eira must gain strength. She must grow bigger to be able to walk and talk and do all the things you can do. It just takes longer with children.”
“I hold.” Arthur reached out to try to pluck Eira out of his arms.
Gaius pulled the child back quickly, a sharp stab of panic in his gut when Arthur’s blunt fingers almost made contact.
It wasn’t Arthur’s fault he hadn’t been taught gentleness or kindness. Uther ensured he was free to destroy as many toys as his little hands could grab. He disciplined those who disciplined the prince, ensuring they knew it wasn’t their place to curb his behavior. The only one who got close was Anwena, his longest-lasting nursemaid. And they all knew how tenuous her position truly was.
“Gaius?” It was as though thinking of her made her appear. The pale, tired young woman looked from Gaius to Arthur, a small smile starting when she saw the prince. “Arthur! Did you have a nightmare?”
She swept into the room and knelt next to Arthur, eyeing him like she might be able to discern the cause of his late-night journey to her rooms from his manner alone.
“I hold Eiwa!” Arthur demanded, stomping a foot when he pointed to the babe. He wasn’t quite able to pronounce his r’s yet, but he made his meaning known all the same.
“You want to meet Eira? I suppose you haven’t been introduced, have you?” Anwena didn’t look the least bit upset to be woken from her slumber by the demanding child, instead beaming at him.
Gaius wished he could simply order her back to bed. But, if the king found out, he would find himself on the receiving end of Uther’s wrath. More importantly, Anwena and Eira might suffer for it.
So, he allowed Anwena to take her child from his arms and observed as she pushed to stand.
“If you want to hold Eira, you need to come sit over here.” Anwena led Arthur to the rough rocking chair she managed to procure for a fair bit of coin only days ago. The few furs she could spare layered over the wood to pad it.
Arthur climbed up eagerly, legs sticking straight out as he looked up to Anwena expectantly with big blue eyes, identical to his mother's.
“Now, you must support Eira’s head with your arm. Here, like this.” And, in a show of true motherhood, she arranged Arthur’s arms around her child as she set her in his lap.
Arthur’s little brow furrowed as he concentrated completely on the task of holding Eira in his arms. The bundle of blankets the babe slept in looked almost as big as Arthur himself. But, he dutifully supported her head and peered down at her with the same curiosity sword fighting and hunting received.
A furl of something soft, warm, and a little concerned unwound in Gaius’s stomach. He wasn’t sure the fascination was a good thing. He had no idea what Uther might do should Arthur become attached to another human being, another child. Especially the child of his nursemaid. He removed nursemaids from the castle for lesser infractions.
“Wady Eiwa, I’m Pwince Awthuw.” Arthur introduced himself just as his father taught him, though he didn’t bow or nod. Instead, he watched Eira’s face, like she might do something in response.
“Very good, my prince. Eira is too little, she can’t respond yet. But, some day, she’ll be able to introduce herself too.” Anwena smiled at the two children before her, eyes going a little teary.
“And — and then! And then, Eiwa can play swords with me!” Arthur grinned excitedly, cherubic cheeks plumping.
Sometimes, Gaius couldn’t understand how Uther could help contribute to such an angelic child. Then, he would remember the late queen. Ygraine held all the softness and love Uther lacked, her kind heart one of the many reasons Gaius supported the union.
Any softness in Uther died with her, something Gaius knew he would believe until his dying day.
“Perhaps when she’s a little older.” Anwena laughed.
Gaius pulled himself out of the memory of the young woman, so like Eira and so unlike her at the same time. Anwena bore the same telltale red hair, the same kind eyes, and the same gentle nature. But she never looked as exhausted as Eira did now, never wore threadbare clothing, never tried to hide herself from those who cared for her.
And she never learned how to follow after a prince so faithfully not even the nobility of Camelot could find fault with her.
It baffled him how it could have come to this, a scared child huddled on the bench across from him, studiously avoiding his gaze. He supposed her presence could be looked down upon, but all he could feel was concern.
He heard rumors of her reassignment, of course. When Merlin took over as manservant to the prince, he assumed them to be true. But he hadn’t expected the results of her reassignment to be so stark. If he thought the steward wouldn’t interfere, he would command her to his patient’s cot until further notice. It looked like she hadn’t eaten a full meal in weeks. And that wasn’t even mentioning that, on a routine pass down the hall of her room, he saw the steward leaving it.
A quick peek showed Eira no longer made her home in those four walls.
When she showed up another night, the second in a row, he knew he needed to act. He made sure Merlin ate when he could, though the gods knew he didn’t eat enough either. Their stores came from the castle kitchens, not enough to supplement the growing number of children he was taking into his home, but Gaius could make due. If he needed to supplement with herbs and berries, with breads bought from the market or cured meats, he would.
These children were truly the closest he held to having his own, and he would not allow this world to hurt them when he could stop it. There were many things outside his control, but he would do what he could to protect them. To make sure they knew their worth and knew they were loved. For now, he would start with simple meals while he decided on the next steps he could take.
The door to Merlin’s room crashed open then, interrupting Gaius’s thoughts.
He looked up with a sharply raised eyebrow when Merlin fairly fell down the few steps. The clumsy boy frantically scanned the room, almost looking right over Eira’s head.
When he saw her, his movements stopped for just a moment, the relief flashing across his face painful.
Gaius bit down on a sigh.
He should have guessed Merlin’s deep attachment to Eira when she first slipped from his rooms. The knight, Lancelot, proved to be his best friend. It wasn’t a surprise to see he held Eira in equal — or perhaps higher — regard.
He would need more information before deciding if there were any romantic attachments between the two, but he wouldn’t be surprised. Eira was a pretty girl, kind and gentle to those she cared for. She left a very good impression on Merlin after their training sessions. And, as Merlin found his seat next to her, they pressed into one another like puppies seeking heat, a neat seam from shoulder to thigh.
Unease started too.
There were few who could come so close to Eira without facing Arthur’s ire. After his latest interaction with Lancelot, Gaius wasn’t sure who Arthur cared for more or who might be the casualty of such intimacy. Would he lash out at Merlin for monopolizing Eira’s time? Or would he lash out at Eira to get her away from Merlin?
“Eat your porridge,” Gaius ordered Merlin too, taking smaller bites than usual to ensure Merlin didn’t notice a difference in the amount of porridge he ate.
He would need to speak with the cook and check his stores. If Eira made herself a regular in their quarters (and he would ensure she did even if Merlin didn’t), he would need to start stocking up on foods high in nutrition to help ease her back to health.
At around the same time, Eira pushed her half-eaten bowl to Merlin.
Merlin frowned, eyeing it before eyeing Eira with concern. He didn’t take it right away, though he was scraping the bottom of his own bowl.
“Are you done?” Merlin asked gently, pressing his side into hers a little more firmly.
Gaius pretended to be engrossed in his own meal and waited for Eira to reply.
Her nod said she wasn’t going to try to eat anymore for the time being. Merlin, with a covert glance at Gaius, accepted the extra food.
Gaius tilted his head just slightly to let the poor boy know he noticed and would be working on the issue.
A nice bone broth should be rather good for her dinner. He’d keep the pot simmering late into the night if he needed to just to ensure both ate their fair share of the meal. Which meant, after council, he needed to speak with the cook.
