A/N Ok, so I know i really should be focusing on my other fic right now but lets just say tha writers block is annoying :( Anyways, review, review, review please!
The blonde haired man stood tall and proud in front of his crimson cloaked army. The words he spoke were filled with reassurance and hope but only he felt the dark edge of lie that crept through his words, like tendrils of dark mist. Here he was, parading his false hope to a crowd who believed in him. It sparked a fire of lingering doubt that had threatened to consume him these days past. Looking out upon the faces of each man who stood before him, put their lives in his hands, trusted him, he saw the fear in their eyes like a dark and driven wave. It was wild and uncontrollable yet every single one of them were willing to leave all they loved and believed for him, a man they felt they knew. As his heart pounded in his tightened chest, he felt that they could all have been strangers to him. He wanted to run. Run from his fears and into the unknown and away from the pain and hopelessness, yet he knew that wherever his feet may carry him, he could never escape the burden that tortured his mind day after day. It stalked him like a shadow and crushed him. It took everything he had in his heart to hold himself together when the odds turned against him. He was sending innocent, unsuspecting men to their deaths and his courage had finally cracked. It was only a matter of time before it shattered. Was it only he who knew that this war could not be won? It was bravery against magic. Strength against a power that was born with time itself. Love against a rich hate. It was all coming down to this, a final stand down in the conflict magic had wreaked upon his kingdom.
The narrow, creviced canyon that rose menacingly wielded no escape. Each mocking inch of the rising rock encircling the advancing army like a cage. In the fearsome embrace of the darkening stone, the army seemed to cower in their thousands, their sheer size diminished by the ominous rock that loomed dangerously. The eerie silence echoed of battles past and the gentle wind chill whispered of fate and destiny. The whole place was shrouded in a blanket of anticipation. Great things, past and present had come to pass in this place and it seemed that another was imminent. Destiny had chosen the fate of the young king Arthur and nothing short of a miracle can change what has been written since before time itself.
Merlin was restless. The blood red tents of the camp held no sense of safety or reassurance for him as he paced absent mindedly outside a particularly large, luxurious canvas. Although his feet remained walking on the fresh, glistening dew of morning grass, his mind ran elsewhere. In his minds eye, he was with Arthur, striding by his side to confront the enemy. Within the hour, Camelot's forces would be standing before Morgana's army. They were strong, brave fighters who knew their way around a sword but Merlin knew that a petty blade could not penetrate a shield as strong as magic. It could dent it at worst but in this case, hope was a distant road, long since past when war was declared. It took Merlin a few moments before he realised that his feet were carrying him away from the camp and towards the canyon. The soldiers had passed through there but an hour ago. It was in a split second that Merlin took off towards the grey, desolate canyon, sealing his fate behind him as he ran to his destiny.
Screaming. Running. Crying. War. Arthur slowly tuned out of the battle around him. They had been ambushed by Morgana's men and the crimson army were slowly falling, each man crumbing down with chainmail as red as their cloaks. Death. Pain. Hopelessness. Arthur's heart lurched at the thought of what might, would happen if they failed. Cruelty. Injustice. Loss. What would become of Camelot, its citizens and those he held close to his aching heart? Merlin. What would happen to Merlin? Out of the corner of his eye, a deadly familiar face stood within a circle of her men,with a scowl that inspired fear into each person around her. Seeing Arthur, her face broke into a disturbing grin, evil plastered across her features. Morgana. Her menacing stance had not gone unnoticed. She strode through the battle field as though it were a field as men on either side of her parted in fear. A few too foolish and brave pulled away from their opponents to take a half hearted swing at her with a sharpened blade. A careless flick of her hands, stained with the blood of the innocent sent them to their end. Still, she strode onwards, towards her 'dear' half brother.
If Arthur's confidence wavered slightly at the sight of her, he didn't let it parade on his face and turned to face her. She had gone too far this time. What had happened to the sweet, kind girl that he had known for so long? Had she really changed, or had she just... Grown up? He guessed that they both had. Rarely since his father's death had a true smile cracked upon his face. The burden of being king had taken its toll on him and the only thing that kept him going was the smart, often unwanted yet welcomed remarks of Merlin. Merlin had always been by his side through the good and bad, through the days where Arthur couldn't tolerate much, through everything, supporting him whether it suited him or not. He was rude, annoying and downright clumsy but now, in the heat of war with doom looming on the horizon, he would have given the world to see his smile. The smile that seemed to brighten the gloom of life without knowing it. He felt so empty without him. Somewhere in his heart, a deep fire began to burn. Morgana would pay for this, for everything. She would fall if it was the last thing he did. The fire turned into an inferno as his anger welled up inside him, threatening to explode. He thought of Camelot and the flames rose higher. He thought of Merlin and the flames burned brighter, hotter and deadlier. Morgana stood mere meters away from him, barren rock stood forgotten between them but an invisible wall crept its way up from the ground, not magic but a long lost trust, simply an echo of time gone by. It was a ghost of the friendship that used to cascade between them as it tried to rekindle a dead hope. For a fleeting moment, beneath the tangled hair and cruel eyes, he saw the Morgana that he used to know, her mask slipping as she too remembered all that had come to pass. No. What is gone, is gone forever, Arthur told himself. He shook his head, clearing his mind as he looked into the green eyes of his sister, once so full of life and joy, now only hate and darkness. No words were needed between them. She raised a hand and glared onwards, not noticing the figure that was careering in her direction. Arthur saw her lips move almost inaudibly and felt the sheer force of the curse as her eyes lit on fire with amber. He tensed with terror and a strange calm came over him as he waited for the spell to hit him.
It never did.
Leaping out in front of him, raven hair flying and arms wide, was Merlin. The curse collided with him square in the chest as he was sent careering through the air, his face twisted in agony. The sickening thud when he met the solid ground was enough to silence even Morgana's outrage.
"NO!" Arthur screamed desperately as his friend writhed on the ground. He half ran, half crawled to his side, heart thudding against his ribs, cold fury dissipating with each passing second that Merlin lay in pain. Arthur felt his knees begin to buckle as a sickening chill trickled down his spine, gnawing at him. Every inch of him wanted it to all to be a dream, but the stinging tears that clouded his vision told him otherwise. Through the watery haze, he saw the shaking body of his best friend slumped on the cold, hard rock. After several moments of him twisting on the floor he went deathly still, the spirit leaving his striking blue eyes. A single tear escaped.
Merlin briefly smiled, a weak and pained lifting at the corner of his mouth. He knew what he had done and had done it willingly. His life for Arthur's. That was the way it had to be. Maybe destiny could not bind him to that rule but friendship could. Arthur was safe. He closed his eyes and his head rocked to one side, unconscious. Arthur put a comforting hand around his shoulders and fought the urge to shake him.
" Wake up Merlin, I'm here... You're safe now, please..." He felt like a small child, desperate and scared, pleading. His father had often made him shrink back but never had he felt this small. It was like his heart had been torn in half and it hurt, hurt like he had been stabbed, only this pain had no limits. His tears fell freely and onto Merlin's soft, pale cheek. They splashed gently before rolling down his ghostly face and dripping onto his soft, red scarf. Arthur pressed his forehead against Merlin's and felt the cold that consumed him His voice wavered as he whispered a desperate apology.
"You idiot..." he lacked the strength to finish as he broke down into uncontrollable sobs. He looked so peaceful despite his pain. He couldn't lose Merlin, not now. How could he stay strong if he died? He lifted him up with little effort. He was so weak and vulnerable. No,no,no,no... this couldn't be real. Life without Merlin... It was hardly a life at all. The joy and sweet laughter that he brought to Arthur had been willing, caring and always perfect and now... he would never see that heart warming grin that seemed to be in each of his best memories, never hear the cute laugh that escaped from him, never feel his pure joy when he was happy. Never see Merlin again.
Arthur turned to face Morgana, a numbness spreading through him. Of all the things she had done to him... this time was too much, he could never forgive his sis- this witch for this. He wanted to feel hatred and anger towards her but it dissipated as he came face to face with an equally tear stained face. It stopped him in his tracks. After all she had done, all the innocent people who have died at her hands... why would she only now feel the pain that so many before her had suffered?Silent drops left abstract tracks painted across her broken expression. Regret and remorse? More than that. Morgana had finally cracked. She was at long last, sorry.
" Has it taken you this long, Morgana to see the horrors of your actions?" Arthur was struggling to contemplate it all. He was horrified, shocked and had just seen his best friend take a fatal blow and yet somehow, sympathy was creeping towards him. It just couldn't be happening. Why would she finally break now? She had got what she came after, Arthur's pain. Yet he didn't feel it for himself but for Merlin. Merlin's limp, dying frame lay dangling in his arms and he had to suppress another strangled sob.
"Arthur... oh my... I'm-" Morgana was at a loss for words when Arthur cut her off.
" An apology isn't going to bring Merlin back." Fresh tears began to cascade down his stained cheeks. He had had enough of hollow promises. It was not enough for him to accept the death of a true friend. He wasn't going to die.
" Morgana, if you are sorry, walk away and leave me. Never return to the kingdom you once called home. If you care... Withdraw your army. Enough blood has been shed today. I am taking Merlin away from here. If you ever called him a friend you will tell me how to save him." Arthur defied the limits of his courage and looked Morgana in the eye.
" I care. I truly am sorry but I will not walk away. My forces will withdraw but I cannot help you save Merlin. A long time ago, he was a... good friend of mine too. I don' know how I can help you. The curse..." her new found confidence failed her once more. Guilt laced her voice as she spoke again. " it induces a slow and painful death." The finality in her tone meant no more had to be said. The magic was inside Merlin, and it was irreversible. Arthur had to find a way, even if it killed him.
" Thank you. Tell my army that I am safe but will not be returning for quite some time." and with that, he shifted Merlin in his arms and strode away from the ceasing battle.
" Arthur, wait!" Morgana cried from her stance behind. " There is a place, they call it the Lake of Avalon. Take him there." Arthur nodded in response. Avalon was his only hope.
