A/N:
OK guys, so I need your advice here. This idea popped into my head last night, so I started writing it out today. I still am only a couple chapters into my other fic, Betrayal. Should I pick this up or wait until I finish Betrayal? There is a poll on my profile asking you, so please answer. If you have not read Betrayal yet, I recommend reading it before you decide...I left it a bit of a cliffie. Let me know what you think!
I don't own merlin
Merlin felt the cold water race around them, trying to pull he and Arthur into the depths of the icy river. He could see Arthur gasping, trying to keep his head above water as the chainmail weighed him down, adding to the pull of the racing current. "M-merlin!" He spluttered, before being pulled under again. Merlin knew he had to do something quickly, before they froze, drowned, or went over the edge of the waterfall he knew was coming. He wasn't able to stop the water, and he was now shivering so hard he could barely talk. He couldn't risk incanting a spell right now – a misspoken word could be dangerous in magic. He would have to rely on his instinctive magic. He waited until Arthur came up again before pulling at the depths of his magic, sending a wave towards Arthur. Arthur flew up out of the water, onto the rocky shore and hit a tree, collapsing down to the ground.
Just as Merlin let out a sigh of relief that Arthur was safe, he felt a sharp pain in his side, gasping for air as a wave washed over him, causing him to inhale the frigid water. As soon as the water hit his lungs, merlin started coughing, worsening the pain in his side. He looked down at his side, only then realizing that the water was coursing around him – he was stuck on a log going up towards bank, a ways downstream from Arthur. Next he realized that the water coming from his side had a slight pink tinge to it, indicating the pain was from a cut. When he tried to shift positions, he had to bite his lip to not scream from the intense pain the movement had caused. He could feel himself starting to move slower, probably a combination of the cold and blood loss. He still could not see how serious the wound was. He needed to get out of the water now, or he would die. He used his magic to push himself away from the log, pushing also at the branch that had impaled him. He gritted his teeth as he felt the wound stretch with the branch, then separate and begin bleeding freely. He could feel himself start to slip into unconsciousness, barely muttering "Meadterram" and feeling himself lift towards the land before slipping into the darkness that felt so warm.
So? to continue or not to continue? That is the question...