Hi all. This is something weird and random written with sleep deprivation because my classes are evil and make me get up early this semester. It was written for an LJ community called drabbleredux, with a prompt about overwhelmingness, and also posted at the KAfanfic yahoo group. So, it's short, so my comments should be short, right? lol, enjoy.

Title: Ready
Rating: G
Author: me, EK
Character(s): Arthur
Warnings: none (except maybe typoes)
Summary: Young Arthur doubts his ability to command.
Disclaiming: nope, don't own him.
Archive: sure, why not
Feedback: of course
Author shut up: yes

He had to get away, everything was too much. Too many people, too much action, too much noise, too many questions…and too much death. It hung on the back of his mind like a weight. The rain pounded at him and the wind grasped at his clothes, but it didn't bother him, he kept riding.

Sooner or later his responsibility would catch up to him. Yes, it was a responsibility that he had to his men – a duty. How could he ever hope to fulfill it? Men had died-..his men! Their bodies were buried in the sad little graveyard at the hill overlooking the wall.

Thinking about it, he felt panicked, as if he couldn't breathe. The horse slowed down, feeling his rider leaning forward in the saddle, his hands resting on the large creature's neck. It was too much, he could never hope to do this, ever.

"But with this title comes a sacred responsibility to protect, to defend, to value their lives above your own and, should they perish in battle, to live your life gloriously in honour of their memory." Pelagius. It was his teachings, his belief that Arthur would amount to something but now in his hour of glory and triumph that is not what Arthur himself saw. Instead he saw failure where there was victory, pain where there was freedom…death where there was life. Was this the life he was meant to live? Could he lead these men?

Arthur's heart stopped pounding in his chest; he could breathe again. But what if he were to fail them? These men only followed him because they were forced to. He turned around to look back upon the hill that bore the dead. There were a few men up there…his men. They grieved, he could see their hearts breaking even this far away.

No…Pelagius was wrong, he couldn't do this, he couldn't lead these men. If they are in need of a captain then they should not have one who cannot control his own thoughts driving him to have to get away from the overwhelming abyss of despair. It was not the battle, he had killed men before…but it was what happened afterwards that made the whole world come crashing down on top of him.

He closed his eyes, his shoulders hunched as if they bore a heavy weight. They did in fact, they bared the weight of the dead. Not even the fierce wind of the incoming storm could blow it away, it was something that Arthur had to deal with and Arthur alone. But…he didn't know how. This was not an experience he had had before. His father was gone. Pelagius was gone. Everyone whom he had looked up to wasn't there in his time of desperate need. Except one.

"Lord God…" he whispered, taking a deep breath, "Guide my hand and Excalibur." The wind whirled around him, feeling as if it lifted him up, taking the weight away. Arthur opened his eyes, "I am ready."