Hi everyone. I have adopted this from Winter's Twin, but it'll be okay. Hopefully. Maybe. Perhaps. Maybe not. Should I rethink this? No...

By the way: I own nothing. I don't even own the idea

Chapter 2

Panic coursed through his body as he ran. Each whispered fall of his well worn boots sounded like an explosion, though he ran on. Over fallen logs and reaching roots that he would tripped over any other time, his long legs carried him. Closer and closer. Farther and farther. Closer to the two chestnut stallions that galloped across the cluttered mass of trees; closer to their precious riders. Farther away from the idiotic Saxons who don't know when to stop chasing someone; farther from the temptation of letting his magic take care of them.

But his lungs and legs burned with overuse. The strong rocks that he had used to push himself to safety, were now catching the heels and toes of his boots. The faithful neckerchief that was tied around his neck was now restricting the flow of air through his mouth. Now the two horses were leaving, out of sight for now. Merlin knew exactly where they would go, straight to the clump of woods two hours away from the Lake of Avalon, where he had told them to go. Closer and closer. Farther and farther. Closer came the filthy, disgusting hands of the enemy. Who were they again? He was too focused on running to remember. Closer came the idiots that thought they could run him over without a second thought. Farther were the two people he had sworn to protect. Farther were the questions that would be asked if he used magic right now. Now they were too far away to notice the stillness left behind them by a mere manservant.

That's why the Saxons almost crashed into a still manservant. That is also why the stick of a man started to threaten twenty some men. A growl almost escaped the leader's mouth as he came to his conclusion. Besides, Prince Arthur's manservants never lasted long, so why should King Arthur's?

It happened in seconds. The axes and the clubs starting forward to charge over the whelp, only to be thrown back. The Saxons stampeding toward a "helpless" man, only to have a flash of gold throw them into the nearest trees. The idiotic enemy crashing through the underbrush toward Merlin, toward Arthur and Gwen's safehaven, only to have their plans dashed by a mere thought. It was rather hilarious, if you really thought about it.

Clumsily tiptoeing over dead or unconscious Saxons, Merlin climbed onto the horse that one of the men had stolen from the campsite the royal party had been camping at only a few moments ago. Of course, the horse just had to be Merlin's; he always go the short end of the stick. Shoving himself to a seated position on the back of the horse, his burning legs managed to get the surprisingly calm horse to a fast canter, burning through the oddly short journey through the woods to that odd spot near Avalon.


Thin streams rolled over jutting rocks and flapping branches. Whispers of the long dead reached from the water to the ears of the two living humans as their horses passed. A lone tear leaked out of Gwen's big brown eyes as they passed. Her delicate hand reached over to wrap itself around her husband's. "They're so sad," she whispered, almost to herself, as they crossed yet another stream. Those three words never seemed to reach Arthur's ears though. He was too focused on the sketchy little trail the horses were bringing them to. Covered by towering trees, the dirt beaten trail was shrouded in darkness and fear of the unknown that lay in those shadows. The calls of songbirds and robins, which had become like backround music to his dulled hearing, had stifled themselves to a sigh on the wind. Like a distant memory, the calls murmured through the forest with no real origin point.

Soon the horses drew to a stop just before the mouth of said trail. The two royals of Camelot shared a questioning look, before turning their inspecting eyes to the situation before them. Moments later an echoing voice mixed and mingled with the drifting sound of songbirds and robins. Resonating through the wood, the woman's voice twisted through the tree branches before settling on the spot just in front of the horses. The voice soon turned into a memory. A memory of such a sweet voice that could command so easily. The memory twisted into an image, then a person. Before long a vaguely familiar blonde in a barely off white dress stood in front of them, demanding their attention.

"Lady Adriannde," Arthur greeted with a smile and a little wave.

"King Arthur, Queen Guinevere. I'm pleased. You have come to join us at Avalon for Morgana Pendragon's trial." Two nods were all that responded to her odd statements. Moments later, her smile faded a smidge before drifting into a frown. "Where is Merlin?" The question echoed through the wood before settling in the ears of Arthur and Gwen.

"We were separated by Saxons. I expect that he has gotten out of the situation though, he always does." Arthur replied with a little shame. When you put it like that, he supposed that it did sound like he was abandoning his manservant. In response, Adriannde threw her hands toward the ground and sighed. With a huff, she grabbed the reins of the two horses and led them toward the lake, exclaiming loudly that Merlin will just have to catch up with them.

"You will be surprised. Avalon is for the dead or dying, not for the living, so things will be strange down there. It will probably remind you of a few different countries, including your own, with a whole lot of magic involved." Her gaze flicked to the couple as she threw her head back. "And don't go in there and threaten to kill someone. They are already dead, it wouldn't matter at all." Both royals nodded their head like little children before shying away from her piercing gaze. "We are here." She mumbled before basically shoving Arthur off of his horse, causing him to gracelessly plummet toward the ground only barely managing to land on his feet. Gwen, fortunately, got a hand to help her gracefully step off of her horse, before laughing at her husband's situation like a farmboy, fully doubled over in her efforts to keep Arthur looking like a fool. Eventually both of them followed a properly impatient long-dead law enforcer to the glittering lake. While it was a beautiful sight, none of the group saw much of it as Adriannde shoved them gracelessly into the water before being swallowed up herself. Down, down, down they drifted until the sweet darkness enclosed them. Dragged them down through the watery depths, the darkness pulled.


Did I mess it up? I hope not. Anyway please review or come back for other chapters. Please check out Winter's Twin' profile because they are a fantastic writer. So long! Farewell! Auf Wiedersehen! Goodbye!