Hello fellow readers and writers! Welcome to my very first story, Nowhere To Run! I am very happy to finally be writing this story, and so I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin… or Colin Morgan… Yet…
Chapter 1:
Merlin vowed that Arthur would pay as he rushed through the field in the center of Camelot, not bothering to look behind him as he hurried towards his destination. And he need not look behind him, for the yells of the men chasing him were easily heard in the open field.
When Merlin reached the forest he kept going, trying to run as fast as he could, despite how hard it was to do in all the chainmail Merlin was made to wear by his annoying master, thus the reason he was already exhausted from only running a short while. Merlin pressed forward, the shouts of the men at his back spurring him into a faster pace.
The sun beat heavily down on Merlin's messy, raven-colored hair as he scrambled through the forest, desperately praying that his clumsiness would not betray him to the army of men who were chasing him. If he were to trip, the large men behind him would surely capture him, something Merlin most definitely could not let happen. If he let such a thing befall him there would be no escaping Arthur's relentless teasing. As Merlin caught his Camelot-red cloak on yet another tree branch, he inwardly cursed everyone in the world, Especially Arthur.
Trees whipped past Merlin's vision as he ran, the sound of his footsteps blocked out by the yells and taunts of the men following him, waving their large battle axes, maces and swords, pretty much anything they could kill him with, in the air as they continued to chase him.
Merlin weaved between trees and rocks, desperately trying to remember exactly where Arthur had told him to go, and so Merlin stopped, and tried to figure out where he was. What would Arthur do if he got horribly lost in the forest? Arthur would probably kill him, assuming of course that the men he was being chased by didn't kill Merlin first. After all, it would do no good to keep going if he didn't reach the valley he was trying to get to.
As he stood there pondering which way to go, he heard a noise. He whirled around in time to see an axe whip through the air towards him. He fell to the ground, the axe just barely missing him as it landed between his legs, so he picked it up and ran.
Just when Merlin feared the men would catch him, he reached the valley. The heavy footsteps behind him ceased and he turned around to face the men. They approached him, one sneering at him and saying, "Trapped, are we," the arrogance in his gravelly voice apparent as he stared Merlin down.
Merlin looked calmly on and waited for the knights to begin their attack. Nothing happened. He looked around, searching the top of the valley for any sign of the men who were supposed to be waiting for him.
No one was there. The knights were not there. As Merlin realized this, he looked back at the men in the valley with him.
Arthur was gone. No one was there to help him. Merlin was completely alone, and furthermore, he was completely and utterly trapped.
To Be Continued…