TITLE: Into the Woods
CHAPTER/TITLE: Thirty Seven/ Rather Die
RATING: T (just to be safe)
A/N: time for some action and drama! dun dun dun
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Merlin or Robin Hood.
Chapter Thirty Seven: Rather Die
Darkness has stretched across the forest now and the camp had long since drawn silent. Yet not one them were sleeping. No, this was a different breed of quiet. An anxious awaiting. A hushed horror.
For every second that passed them by, it was another second that Robin and the others had yet to return. Another moment longer that they were being hunted by not only the sheriff and Morgana, but by one of their own.
They did not desire to face any of their foes, but none of them wanted to even consider the option of having to fight against their friend.
It was in the middle of this stillness that a single sound broke through. And then another. And one more.
It was the terrifying sound of the knights and outlaws, one by one, crumbling to the ground. They dropped where they stood and sat from some phantom blow.
Arthur readied his sword at the obvious sorcery surrounding them, holding tight to his weapon in one hand, and his wife with the other.
That is, until the queen too finally descended in the sudden slumber.
Arthur twisted the hilt of his sword tightly, wide eyes scanning the trees for their faceless attacker.
They had been discovered.
And someone, the king found himself praying that it was Morgana that had stumbled upon them.
All his hopes came crashing down to the forest floor though as a familiar figure formed out of the shadows.
Arthur watched as Merlin approached their camp. The king could see something different in his old servant's eyes, even in the darkness. Yet something familiar still sparked there.
"Merlin," Arthur started carefully.
"Arthur," Merlin was almost smiling, but it was a smile Arthur never knew his friend to wear.
"You don't need to do this, Merlin." Arthur kept his weapon risen in a defensive position only, making no move to strike. "Let me help you."
"Help me?" Merlin's features turned dark. "You left me."
"That was wrong and I'm sorry." Arthur nodded, not backing away as Merlin drew closer.
"Sorry?" Merlin scoffed. "Sorry! I saved your life! I sacrificed everything for you! And what do I get in return? 'Clean my socks, Merlin', 'Muck out the stables, Merlin', 'Stay here in the cell to die, Merlin'."
"This isn't you," Arthur shook his head.
"How do you know?" Merlin shouted. "You don't know me! This is who I am!"
Merlin clenched his fist and instantly Arthur felt his throat constrict. His hands instinctively reached up to his neck, dropping his sword in the action.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Merlin laughed. "You wanted me to be evil. Because I have magic. This is the real me. I finally can stop pretending, hiding who I am. What I can do."
With his final words, Merlin lifted his hand and Arthur skidded backwards, slamming against a tree.
"No, Merlin," Arthur grunted, "this isn't you, but there's part of you still in there. Otherwise you would've just killed them," he nodded at his fallen friends.
"Still will if they get in my way," Merlin shrugged. "Besides, I'm not supposed to kill them until after I kill you."
"Merlin, you're not a killer –"
"I've killed for you!" Merlin challenged. "Everything I did, was for you!"
Arthur felt his body press harder against the tree. Without warning, he was lifted into the air, the bark cutting into his back. Arthur groaned and Merlin smiled.
"Should've kept your armor on," he teased.
"I wasn't going to fight you," Arthur gritted out.
"But you're so good at it," Merlin snapped. "Using me for training like I'm just some target."
"I won't hurt you," Arthur vowed.
"Too late," Merlin frowned. "You already did."
Arthur flipped through the air, landing none too gently on his back. Merlin sauntered over to where the king's sword still lay. Picking it up, Merlin examined the weapon.
"You wouldn't have this sword without me," Merlin spoke as he brought the blade to Arthur's chest. "You wouldn't be king. You wouldn't be alive."
"I know," Arthur breathed out the words.
"You don't deserve to live."
Merlin raised the sword, only to cock his head to side curiously when Arthur merely closed his eyes in response.
"Why don't you fight back?" Merlin demanded.
"I told you," Arthur nodded, "I would rather die than hurt you again."
Merlin lifted the blade above his head as Arthur closed his eyes, waiting for the piercing pain. And yet, it did not come. Nothing did.
Warily, Arthur opened his eyes to find Merlin in the same position, sword lifted high. His eyes though, had changed. It was as if Merlin was warring with himself. His irises flashed from cold certainty to confusion. From anger to agony.
The blade finally fell from Merlin's trembling hands as the sorcerer slowly stumbled backwards.
"Merlin?" Arthur sat up, reaching for his friend.
"Stay back!" Merlin shouted and then suddenly crashed to his knees with a shriek.
The pained screams that escaped Merlin's lips were almost as agonizing to Arthur as the sword would have been.
Merlin clawed at the back of his neck wildly, writhing and groaning.
"Merlin," Arthur started again, now standing and moving closer to the man.
"I said 'stay back'!" Merlin hollered. "Arthur," he gasped. "Run. Please."
"No," Arthur stepped forward towards Merlin, "I won't leave you. Not this time."
"You – have to. I'll kill – you." Merlin's words and face were laced in pain from more than the spell.
"No, you won't." Arthur shook his head and knelt down, grabbing the struggling sorcerer by the shoulders. "Merlin, you are the strongest, bravest, noblest and kindest and good man I know. There isn't an evil bone in your body. Nothing changes that. Nothing. I will not leave you."
"I – I – can't –" Merlin cried out again. "Go! Now!"
"No."
"Then die!" Merlin shot his hand forward once more, sending Arthur backwards.
Merlin's eyes were black again as he rose to his feet and whispered ancient words. Arthur began thrashing and convulsing from an agony that boiled from somewhere deep within him. It was unlike any physical pain he had ever endured. The torment seemed to tear at his very soul. Every piece of him, inside and out, burned. His lungs constricted and bile and blood rose up to coat and cage his throat.
"Morgana wants me to make your death painfully slow," Merlin grinned, waving his hand and releasing the man from his magic. "I think I'll have fun. Maybe start with an arm."
Arthur watched helplessly as Merlin thrust the blade down.
And then his vision went dark.