Crossover Oneshots

Merlin Son of Stark

Merlin still has magic. Merlin is the second oldest son of Eddard Stark. Camelot is across the red sea, North of Braavos. They are on an expedition west because Camelot has had no contact with Westeros.

Merlin went to Braavos the same time his Father and sisters went south to Kings Landing. As the second son Merlin held less responsibility when compared to Robb. When his magical abilities became apparent, he could pass off his desire to travel, as researching different magic, he was to learn from eastern priests how to harness his skills. Of course his travels didn't necessarily go to plan. When Merlin's ship crashed on the harbour of Ealdor, on a continent he hadn't known existed, he was the only survivor. Distraught and mourning the loss of his men, he managed to find Hunith, a kind woman that nursed him back to health.

Not wanting to continue burdening Hunith, Merlin travelled to Camelot, with the assurances he could stay with Hunith's brother. After a misunderstanding he couldn't explain in this land that hated magic, he was made the Prince's manservant. Though neither would admit it, that is a friendship that will last an eternity.

"Come on Merlin, beauty sleep is over, we are preparing to go ashore!" Merlin woke up to Arthur yelling his name, and almost fell out of the hammock he was sleeping in.

They had been travelling for months, on an exploration to the west. Though none of Camelot knew what lay West of Albion, Merlin was trying to think of a way to let his friends know of his place of birth. As well as the differing understanding of magic.

"Finally awake, Merlin! Princess will be wanting you, I would hurry along," Gwaine was lounging with Percival and Leon, clearly already prepared to disembark.

.............

They had set up camp in a clearing after marching for days. It wasn't a large group, and Arthur had been instructed by his father to stay incognito for the duration of their journey. Though his title as a prince could prove helpful, it was safer to pass as a simple traveller.

So it was only with Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Elyan, and Lancelot that they went on an excursion away from camp, in search of a neighbouring village or town. Arthur left the remaining sailors and soldiers at their encampment.

Merlin hadn't been home in many years, but looking around he could have sworn that some of the paths among the trees looked familiar. Was it his imagination or did that tree look like one he saw Bran climbing? Was this path one he walked as a boy?

Turning around a bend, Merlin felt panic set in. He looked to Lancelot, the only one to know at least one of his secrets with terror on his face. Up on the hill, in the distance from the small village they encountered was Winterfell. There was no possible way Arthur wouldn't want to make his way there.

"God this is more than just a village, we should be able to blend in." Arthur said, leading the group to a small pub along one of the main roads. Voices were echoing throughout.

After sitting down at a large table in the back of the room, the group settled down to listen to the men and women around them. To the knights listening in, the group seemed to be cheering good health to some unknown people.

"To the Starks! I never want another goddamn Bolton in Winterfell!" One man said as the rest cheered their affection.

"To the King in the North!"

"To Lady Sansa!"

"For the North!"

Arthur looked around at his men, clearly admiring the loyalty that they held for their King. If the people held such admiration for him, Arthur clearly wanted to meet him.