Cursed Friendship
by Annette Samuels
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or main show storyline
Prologue;
His heart sank as the gauntlet was thrown down at his feet. He was not even a fighter, nor wished to fight Arthur. His hands trembled as Chatton's magic forced him to reach for the gauntlet. For a moment, he closed his eyes, wishing himself away from Chatton's control.
Arthur looked at him with cold, piercing eyes, unaware of who had been forced to take up his challenge. Chatton's control over him was much more prevalent, and for that matter it drove fear into Merlin's heart. He knew he had no chance against Arthur; servant with no power against a prince trained in combat since childhood. Within seconds, he would be struck down. In quick succession he thought of Gaius, Gwen and Morgana, those he would be leaving behind. He also thought of Arthur, his best friend, despite Arthur's demanding nature.
"Arthur, someday you will be great king, and I am sad not to see that day. Don't let Chatton sustain his hold." Merlin looked into the Arthur's eyes, but they held no response or reaction.
Both men took up their swords, and made for combat. Within minutes it was done, the prince victor.
Chapter 1;
"Come on, boy, wake up," Gaius called through the open doorway to his wards room. "You're already late." Some days it amazed the physician that his ward maintained his position as Arthur's manservant, since the boy seemed to always be late and forbiddingly clumsy. For some strange reason, one of which Gaius was starting to understand, Arthur kept around, even to the point of fighting for his life. For this Gaius had been grateful on many occasions, but he wished that Arthur or Uther knew of the numerous times Merlin had saved father and son alike. This was not to be.
"Get up," he cried again, tossing one of Merlin's shoes at him.
"I'm up, okay? No need to throw stuff at me!"
Merlin scrambled out of bed, pulling on his pants and shirt. Within seconds, he had headed out of the door, hurrying through the hallways to the kitchen, then to the prince's room. Arthur was going to kill him. The last time he was this late, Arthur had given him a long list of tedious and unnecessary chores, of which took him all night. He did not want to repeat that.
As he entered Arthur's room, he quickly noticed that the prince had already woken and was sitting at his table, impatiently tapping his knife against the table edge. Merlin quickly placed Arthur's breakfast on the table in front of him, hoping for his own sake that it was still warm. Standing back, Merlin started looking around the room to calculate how large of a mess the room was in this morning. An array of clothing had been carelessly tossed out across the floor. Arthur's bedcovers were strewn about the ground, and the nightstand must have been knocked over by a grumpy, half-asleep Arthur. Why did the prince always manage to make such a mess, and in the short time that he had been awake.
"Merlin," the prince said, his voice obviously full of annoyance. Merlin, suddenly brought out of his cleaning plans, looked up. Arthur had not touched his food yet, but was still sitting at the table, still tapping his knife against the table. Seeing that he had received his manservant's attention, Arthur stopped his insistent drumming, and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it, still trying to think of what to say. Merlin took this opportunity to interject his apologies.
"Sire, I am so sorry for being late, it won't happen again."
"Merlin- just stop." Arthur took a deep breath before continuing, as much as he wanted to let go on his servant, he held back…for now. "No matter how many times you say you're not going to be late, you always seem to end up later." Merlin waited for him to start listing some duties that he would now have to complete, but Arthur was cut off by the sounding bells.
Within seconds, Arthur had grabbed up his sword and was headed out the door, calling for Merlin to follow. They quickly made their way down the hall to the audience chamber, where other knights and court officials were already gathering, each looking as confused as the other. Uther was just making his way to the front, not knowing what was going on as much as any of the others. His ward, Morgana, was close behind with her maidservant, Gwen eagerly wanting to know what was alarming the kingdom.
Arthur went to his father, inquiring what was going on, while Merlin joined Gaius among the rest gathered.
"What's going on, Gaius," Merlin asked, hoping his mentor would have an answer, but Gaius just shrugged his shoulders. He was about to say something else, when five men of the guard strode into the hall, bowing politely to the king, before starting their report.
"Sire, the gates…they've been – been destroyed." Uther was about to say something, when the guard put up his hand. "Cenred's army is nearly at our doorstep. I don't know how he got this far undetected," the guard quickly added, bowing afterwards.
The entire room stood quiet, everyone hoping to take back the words that were just spoken, in hopes that it was not real. Arthur sat up straighter in his chair, looking from the guard and then to his father. Uther, who had placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, stood up, and demanded the guards to step aside. In reality he was in disbelief, not knowing what else to do. Their stronghold would be significantly breeched without the gate, and with an army readying their attack, the king was having major uncertainty of their chances. He made his way to the gate, or where the gate had used to be. The crowd surrounding the wreckage stepped aside for Uther to pass. It took everything in him to keep a calm stance; he had to keep a level head; he had to lead Camelot against their foes.
Arthur had quickly followed his father, Merlin at his heals. The sight of the gate, which had been clean blown off the hinges and had curled in on itself, stopped the prince and his manservant in their tracks. Merlin could feel the remnants of magic lingering in the air, and its taste felt familiar. One sorceress came to mind, but he knew he must be wrong, since she was dead.
"Arthur, I want you to take a patrol," Uther ordered. "See the whereabouts of Cenred's army. See how much time we have." He placed his hand on Arthur's shoulder, making sure that his son looked him in the eyes. Something, only relevant to father and son, passed between them, and they had a common understanding. Both knew that with the gate gone, the battle would probably swing in Cenred's favor, and Uther trusted his son to lead the knights, even if it was to their death, and to the death of his own son.