'RUN!'
The silent woodland was suddenly filled with the sound of yells and frantically running feet as the knights of Camelot burst through the trees, a flurry of red and gold as they flew past, running for their lives. First came the oldest and most loyal dedication to the helm, Sir Leon, his sword long returned to it's sheath as hopelessness had become slowly apparent to them all. Closely trailing him was Sir Gwaine, his friendly, laugh-filled face a mask of terror and desperation as he fled, his eyes continuously darting behind him to confirm the pursuit of a young boy in blue and red, who was sprinting just behind, struggling to keep up though helped by the careful but firm grip of King Arthur who, though would refuse to admit it, was not going to let his servant get left behind.
They neared a narrow gap in the forest floor, below it the pit that lead to the Valley Of Fallen Kings, and for the spilt second it took Sir Leon to get to the edge, he had made the decision to leap straight over, hastily followed by Gwaine. Arthur and the boy arrived at the gap mere seconds later and the young King mimicked the action of his knights, but the servant following behind had not the experience nor the strength of the latter, and his jump was not as successful. He leaped and landed awkwardly on the other side. He cursed as he felt his ankle snap beneath him before he even had time to register the pain that would surely follow. Deciding not to give his bad luck the satisfaction of crippling him, he hobbled to his feet, speeding towards his friends and his master, who had taken shelter behind a fallen oak tree. A moment passed as he flung himself down beside them, before he cried out in pure agony at the mess of shattered bones that was the remains of his left foot.
'What happened to him?' Gwaine switched his position with that of his King and gently pulled up the servant's tattered trousers to reveal the damage that the fall had inflicted on the boy, who was now biting down hard on his red neckerchief to keep himself from screaming.
'Good god...' Arthur Pendragon leapt to his servant's side as he examined the oddly shaped, clearly agonising ankle. 'He RAN on this? What the hell were you thinking, Merlin? Merlin...?'
Arthur looked up at the warlock to see his chalk white face trembling, and his eyes brimming as he attempted to reply.
'I...could... couldn't let... some... prat like...like you...beat... beat me here.'
'Believe me, even if I had no legs at all, you still wouldn't have a chance in hell.'
A chuckle seeped past Merlin's lips, only for him to press them together again as he exhaled shakily out through his nose.
'Shhh. It's alright' He turned to the men behind him. 'We need to get him back to Gaius. Give me a hand'
The two knights each grabbed underneath Merlin's arms and hauled him to his feet.
'No worries I've got him'
Gwaine lifted the boy carefully over his shoulder, making sure nothing was in contact with anything below his kneecap, and started off for the magnificent castle which had suddenly emerged from beyond the hills. Merlin opened his eyes and smiled weakly. Camelot. Home. His last thought was of the hot bath that was surely waiting for him as he lowered his head and succumbed to the pain free release this sudden sleep would grant him.