The warlock ran as fast as he could. The towering trees on either side of him striped his vision and his feet relentlessly pounded the leafy autumn carpet. Pure adrenalin surged through him, giving him the speed he had never dreamed of possessing as he ducked and weaved around gnarled roots and menacing trunks. He was fast, but unfortunately, so was the rider galloping after him. He could hear the chestnut stallions rhythmic hoof beats chasing him, teasing him. One minute they seemed right behind him and the next, as distant as the stars.
How had he got himself into this mess?
Ealdor had been Merlin's home since the day he was born. It was a simple village in Essetir that Merlin had spent his childhood in. It consisted mainly of thatched houses and small farms that provided them with food. It wasn't spectacular but it was enough. He had a warm house, friends and a loving mother- he had never known his father. Oh, and magic! Wonderful, wonderful magic. Merlin had been born with it. His powers had, more often than not, been his best friend Wills only source of entertainment. He had caused objects to move anywhere he wanted and conjured burning flames with a motion of his hand. Little did he know that his abilities stretched far beyond this. When he had kissed his mother goodbye on that fateful day that he had journeyed to Camelot, he remembered his sulking friends goodbye words." I'm gonna be real bored without ya." To this day, they still made Merlin grin stupidly.
Gaius had eagerly, if in a slightly confusing way, taken Merlin in as his ward upon his arrival in Camelot. Unsurprisingly, it wasn't long before Merlin managed to do something dramatic. He had saved the crowned prince's life and to his dismay, earned himself the reputable job of being his manservant. Gaius could remember musing at how Merlin had a knack at saving lives.
Merlin spent a year slaving away for Prince Arthur. As he soon discovered, he was honestly more worthy of the title Royal Brat, seeing as it wasn't within his (in Merlin's opinion) very limited capabilities to go a day without complaining about many a thing. Despite his obvious flaws (and there were many of them) Merlin had gotten to know the royal dollop head quite well. On rare occasions, Arthur would stop ordering Merlin around for long enough for them to have a half decent conversation that didn't end up up with something being thrown at Merlin's head and him then having to spend the day cleaning the royal stables. Mostly though, it was the latter. He had also learned that if he were to fulfill his new found destiny at the Prince's side, he must conceal his gifts. As hard as it was for Merlin to hide who he was, he managed to scrape by for a year. Just a year. One year before he went and did something stupid. One year before he was caught. One year before he found himself running for his life.
The chestnut stallion was gaining on him, there was no doubt about it now. Merlin couldn't keep running for much longer and he knew it. His legs ached painfully and his heart felt as if it were about to leap from his chest and abandon him then and there. The expanse of trees showed no signs of thinning as was there no sign of a place to duck into and hide.
It had been a simple enchantment, nothing more. Merlin had simply swirled up a heap of rusty leaves into a spiral and then made them take the form of a little dragon. It was a harmless spell but Prince Prat had to be watching. He had thought he was alone but no, Arthur had to be watching in those few simple moments. That morning, he had tried to explain to him that Gaius had urgently needed herbs and that he must take the afternoon off. This wasn't an entire lie. Gaius did need some herbs but they were situated right outside the castle walls and would barely take an hour to collect. The fact that Arthur had followed him meant that he hadn't bought his story. Not one single stupid word and now, Merlin was going to pay the price.
It was too easy to tell when Merlin was lying. Arthur had much experience in that department and when Merlin approached him and declared Gaius' untimely and urgent need for some herbs, it didn't escape Arthur's notice that not once did his manservant look him in the eye and he had been continuously shuffling his feet anxiously. A village idiot would have doubted the truthfulness of this request. He had grudgingly agreed but only on one condition. One that was best if Merlin didn't know about. He was going to find out what his idiot manservant was really up to.
Arthur had to tack up his stallion by himself so as not to arouse suspicion and avoid questions. He felt that it would be incredibly awkward if he came across Sir Leon and had to explain why he was stalking his manservant, especially if he couldn't even think of a valid reason himself! When he was ready, he mounted and cantered out of the gates and began the hunt for Merlin.
Being the clumsy idiot that he often was, Merlin had left a trail of destruction and it took Arthur no longer than five minutes to pick up on the trodden mud and broken branches. Picking his horse up into an elevated trot, he followed the carnage until he saw the tall, messy haired figure wearing the red scarf. He was sitting with his back to the now silently watching prince, staring at the autumn leaves that were strewn across the forest floor. He thought he could hear him mumble something unintelligible and then suddenly leaves were spiraling upwards in unison and then fanning out into a dragon, which swept the ground with its leafy wings.
Sorcery.
Arthur's mouth had dropped open and if anyone had seen his eyes, they would have seen the confusion, hurt and sadness that swam in their blue depths. Arthur didn't want to believe it. Nevertheless, it was true and it always had and always would be. Merlin had magic.
Arthur's stallion snorted in impatience. Merlin jumped and spun around in terror but it was too late. Arthur had hesitated and just looked at Merlin. His expression was unreadable. He went to speak but in a moment where Merlin was torn between fear and friendship, the warlock took off into the trees, trying to outrun the situation. Maybe if he ran far enough away it would all just disappear like it never happened. Arthur was hurt even more when Merlin had run away and leaped agilely onto his horse to follow him.
Merlin was slowing. Arthur knows, he thought. Stupid, stupid Arthur followed him and know he knows. Merlin had longed to tell him about his magic for so long but he shouldn't have found out like this. Maybe in a heroic act of bravery but no, this wasn't good. And now he was being chased by a seventeen hand horse and an presumably very angry rider. Definitely not good. Merlin was certain that Arthur wouldn't put this much effort in and chase Merlin if he was going to say that it didn't matter and they were still friends. He must be plotting to kill me, Merlin thought. He risked a glance back and by seeing Arthur's stony face, he looked like he was plotting a very brutal death indeed.
Then, as if by some small miracle in his unlucky predicament, Merlin saw it, the cave. Never had a cave been so inviting. He had to reach it before Arthur had the chance to mow him down or do whatever it was that he planned to do to him. If he could just slow him down or block himself from him... magic was the only option that presented itself. If Arthur wasn't going to have him executed for what he had already done, surely he would for this. He stopped abruptly and spun on his heels. He forbade himself to look into Arthur's eyes as at his command, a small tornado sprung from the ground in front of him. It wasn't perfect but it would slow Arthur down and hopefully hide him from view so he could duck into the cave unnoticed. It seemed as though it would work.
Then it all went wrong.
The horse spooked violently at the twister and Arthur lost his stirrups. Grappling to get them back and pick up his reins, he didn't have a chance of staying on. The horse bucked and swerved, trying to avoid the twister and then it bolted with one final, huge buck that sent Arthur shooting from the saddle. Merlin watched in horror as his plan backfired before his own eyes – Arthur twisting horribly in mid-air as the hard ground rushed up to meet him. A fall like this could seriously injure him or worse... Merlin hated thinking of what could happen as he watched powerless to do anything and felt like he was behind a glass screen, the whole world on hold, prolonging Arthur's fall. He desperately cried out when Arthur was inches from the ground but to no avail. His eyes flashed gold but nothing could be done. Arthur hit the ground with a sickening thud that seemed to silence the forest around them. His horse was slick with sweat and was still panicking. Merlin destroyed the swirling remainder of the twister with a flick of his hand, mind elsewhere. What had he done? Arthur lay motionless on the ground. He ran forwards, forgetting his earlier fatigue. He may have just killed Arthur in an attempt to do what? Hide? Merlin scolded himself under his breath. He was a fool, he thought, a selfish fool. When he reached Arthur's side he promptly fell to his knees beside him. He was unconscious. He reached a pale hand to touch his similar forehead only to meet a deathly cold chill. No, no he can't be dead! He checked in desperation for a pulse beneath his chain mail. A horrible silence met him. He had killed Arthur Pendragon.
Hot stinging tears fell from Merlin's eyes. He had never realized that it would take Arthur dying for him to realize how much he cared about him. He put an arm around his shoulders and cried. Not caring who was listening. His best friend was dead and he had killed him. Despite everything, a fire burned in his mind that refused to be put out. It was the part of him that would wait forever for Arthur, the part of him that would never give up on his friend. It was the part of him that wouldn't, couldn't accept Arthur's death. There had to be a way to bring him back and if there wasn't, Merlin would make one. After all, they were two sides of the same coin.