A single red rose

by trek-to-the-tardis

A small drabble about reincarnated Arthur going to visit the field where Mordred killed him and he died in Merlin's Arms.

As the cold, crisp wind blew threw his golden blond locks as he looked on at the view before him. To anyone else this was just a field, who no one owned, who no one cared for, but to him this was much more.

A lorry drove past, the birds sung and the wind howled. He loved how peaceful it was here.

He was told, many years ago, by his loyal friend, that one day, when the world needed him most, he would rise again. That time was now.

He walked through the lush green grass then came to an abrupt stop. He was here, the very spot.

This was the place that Mordred had cut him down, and the place that Merlin had held him in his arms as he took his last breath.

This was the place that a single red rose stood tall and proud.

This was the place that time forgot.

And with that, Commanding General of the British Army, Arthur Pendragon walked away.