Woah! Stuff is happening in this chapter ...
Oh, and before you start reading it, you are all LOVELY people! Thank you for your encouraging reviews!
I disclaim what I always disclaim.
Arthur and Merlin left early the next morning together with a small army of knights and headed toward the small village that had been attacked, hoping they would intercept the attackers on their way to Camelot.
"Will you stop it, Merlin?" Arthur said irritably when Merlin yawned for maybe the fifteenth time. "You're making the rest of us tired."
Merlin shook off the yawn. "I can't help it," he muttered. Gaius had given him some medicine for pain relief that morning, which made him feel drowsier than normal.
The dawning sun broke through the trees and shone its pale red light upon them, causing the leaves and grass of the forest to glitter as it reflected in the early dew. The morning wind whipped cooly against Merlin's face as they rode. It wasn't until past midday that the King ordered that they make camp and get some food in them.
Merlin made a fire and started cooking them a stew based upon deer for their meal. He put aside a small bowl for himself before he told the rest of them that it was done; he knew from experience that Arthur and his closest knights wouldn't leave him without food, but since they were traveling with a small army he could not count on everybody remembering him. After making sure that everybody had been served, Merlin sat down next to the fire and started in on his bowl. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he tasted the salty meat, and finished his portion in a matter of minutes.
Next on his list of duties was feeding the horses. He got to his feet and wiped the dirt off his pants before he grabbed the horse food amongst all the packing that they'd brought. He poured the food on the ground in front of each horse, feeding his and Arthur's horses last. Merlin took a moment to stroke his horse's neck as it ate, admiring the creature that carried him for miles upon miles, no matter the state he was in.
He was startled by a sudden movement in the corner of his vision. Merlin looked up, and at once registered several strangers appearing behind the trees. Judging by their grim expressions, they were foes, and not friends. They moved slowly towards him, and he started to back up just as slowly, inching toward the camp. In unison, they pulled their swords out and pointed them at him. The message was clear; they did not want him to make a sound. Merlin gulped and threw a glance over his shoulder to see how far he was from the knights.
I can make it, he thought impulsively, turned on his heel and ran for the camp. Merlin could hear that they were charging after him.
"They're here!" he shouted. "We're under attack!"
The small army of knights all reacted immediately to his words, trained to instinctively draw their swords at the first sign of a threat. They all rushed towards and past him, and he came to a stop as the sound of swords clanging reached his ears. He quickly scanned the crowd of people for Arthur. The King was in the front lines - of course, Merlin thought with an internal eye roll - and his servant hurried to his side. Merlin stood a few steps behind him, ready to interfere, should he have to.
There was a sudden tickling feeling at the back of his neck, and he unconsciously cracked it, before he was overtaken with a foreboding feeling. Filled with dread, he turned slowly to look behind him, and his heart dropped. They were surrounded.
"Arthur," he called out. Something in his voice must've made the King listen, instead of dismissing him as usual, because Arthur turned his head in the middle of a fight and his eyes immediately widened as he saw what Merlin had noticed.
"Guard your flank!" Arthur ordered his men, sounding every bit like the King that he was.
Some of the knights turned and went to meet the surrounding attackers, but Merlin could tell that even though they seemed to have almost even numbers, they were surrounded and therefore strategically worse off.
And besides; the other side wasn't playing fair. As Merlin looked closer, he realized that their opposers must be using magic to make themselves stronger and faster, as well as to make the weapons fly out of the knights' hands. The young warlock noticed with despair that several knights of Camelot had already been dropped to the ground, bleeding severely.
But then, the enemy seemed to switch tactics. Instead of using their advantage to kill the unarmed knights, they chose to turn them around and place a knife to their throats. Hostages, Merlin thought darkly.
"Give it up, Arthur Pendragon," echoed a loud voice through the clearing. "You are outnumbered, and outskilled."
Arthur, his hair damp with sweat, snorted loudly at that. "Only because you aren't playing fair," he growled. He held his sword readily in front of him, though the fighting had stopped. "What do you want?"
"Give us the warlock they call Emrys," the voice demanded, yet Merlin couldn't tell which one of them was speaking. "Give him to us, and we will spare you."
Arthur stiffened visibly beside Merlin. "What do you want with him?"
"That is our business." An elderly woman with pale red hair stepped forward, and the voice came from her mouth. "Now, which one of you is Emrys?"
"He's not here," Arthur said sternly, his face a mask carved in stone.
"Do not lie!" She said sharply, her expression furious, and her eyes suddenly flashed with red. Merlin realized with a sinking feeling what and who they were. "We can feel his power amongst you," she continued, "though it is weakened."
She gave a snap of her fingers and Arthur's sword went flying out of his hands. Two of what seemed to be her men stepped forward and grabbed the King by the arms, and though Arthur struggled against them, he was no match for the supernatural strength of the Sidhe.
The woman's piercing pale-blue eyes suddenly shifted from the King to land on Merlin, and she looked intrigued. "It is you, isn't it? A servant, of all people..." she mumbled, tilting her head as she studied him.
Merlin glanced around anxiously and saw that all of the knights, including Arthur, had been captured. They were held in a ring around the young warlock, Arthur, and the lady who Merlin assumed to be the Sidhe elder.
The latter grabbed Merlin's face with her hand, turning his head to the sides as if inspecting him. "Yes," she said, seemingly talking to herself, "I can feel the power you eradiate. Yet you cannot use it." She tilted her head with mock sympathy. "How sad. How pathetic." She grinned, and then gestured toward Merlin. "Take him," she ordered. Two of the Sidhe moved forward to grab Merlin.
"Wait!" Arthur called out, struggling furiously against the men holding him. "What do you want with him?" One of his captors brought a dagger to his throat, which finally forced Arthur to stop trying to writhe out of their grip.
"They're Sidhe, Arthur," Merlin said, forcing his voice to remain calm. He kept his eyes fixed on the Sidhe elder. "I think we can both hazard a guess as to what they're going to do to me. They want Camelot on its knees, and the prophecy says that without me, you cannot bring Albion forth."
"Then kill me!" the King exclaimed, his tone desperate. "Why not kill me instead?"
Merlin shook his head. "The people— your people, will not listen to whomever they put on the throne without your support, Arthur. They need you alive."
"I will never support them," Arthur growled. His eyes were shooting daggers at the Sidhe elder.
"We'll see," she simply said, and then gestured toward the Sidhe that had stepped forward. "Go on. Kill him."
Merlin took a step backward as they moved toward him, holding out his hand as if preparing to use his magic. "I can't let you do that," he said in a low voice.
The woman raised an eyebrow and snorted. "You wouldn't," she sneered. "You can't."
Merlin smacked his lips together. "See, that's where you're wrong. Though it might hurt me..." Merlin began, and his eyes flickered to Arthurs, seeking approval for what he was about to do. But the King's eyes widened with fear for his servant, and he shook his head ever so slightly, warning him not to. Yet Merlin knew what he had to do, so he looked back at the Sidhe elder. "... it is not impossible." In a heartbeat, he'd summoned his magic, and sent all of the Sidhe flying simultaneously through the air, seemingly just as easy as they had with the knights' swords.
The pain was instant. Merlin sank to his knees on the damp ground, pressing his hands to his head as his entire body burned like it was on fire. He tried to take deep breaths until the agonizing feeling finally started to fade away, leaving only an overwhelming weakness lingering in his limbs. He would've tilted over, if not for the fact that somebody was holding him up. As he regained his senses, he realized that there were a pair of hands on his shoulders, preventing him from falling over. Looking up, he saw that Arthur was crouching in front of him.
"Merlin," Arthur breathed. "You alright?"
The young warlock nodded, feeling too winded to reply.
Arthur returned the nod. "Listen, they're not dead. We have to get back."
"They'll... come for me," Merlin mumbled. "In Camelot."
"I don't care," Arthur said intently. "We'll get reinforcements. But right now, we need to get you out of here." The King pulled Merlin to his feet, slinging his arm across his shoulders.
"Arthur," Merlin protested, "wait." He tried to catch his breath. "I didn't... kill them... because Gaius can... he can bring them back. The humans. It's what- it's what that girl wanted... remember?"
Arthur closed his eyes briefly, seemingly reconsidering what to do. "Alright," he said finally. "We'll tie them up and come back for them later."
But the young warlock wasn't satisfied. "But, they have magic." He frowned. "If they wake up... they'll escape easily."
"Let's hope they don't." Arthur gave a gesture of resignation. "That's all we can do, Merlin."
"I can put a sleeping spell on them," Merlin suggested, though he was not even sure himself that he had the energy to do it.
Arthur shook his head. "No, Merlin. You're already about to fall over. You can't use more of your Magic."
No matter how much he disliked it, Merlin had to admit that the King was right. There was no way they could bring them all back to Camelot, and Merlin didn't have the energy to summon enough Magic for such a powerful spell. He simply had to trust that his first spell had been strong enough.
Arthur forced Merlin to sit down and rest while he and the knights bound up the Sidhe and got the injured or killed knights onto the horses backs. Then they header back toward Camelot.
