'London Bridge is falling down,' he gaped.
The metal of the bridge screeched, while the masonry groans as it crumbled and cracked into pieces.
The city is set a blaze. The once tall and shiny buildings glow red: they melt and drip into the Thames.
Falling Down
The man eyes frantically scan his surroundings. Chaos is reigning. People push, shove and trample each other.
A desperate bid to safety.
It doesn't really matter, he thinks, they are all going to die anyways. The man doesn't stop either, however.
He's panting, his jeans and his jacket cling uncomfortably on his skin. He grits his teeth, pushing through the fatigue.
They are all going to die if he doesn't get to that damned museum and steal that sword.
He's not sure if it's the real one, not sure of it mystical proprieties either. He's running on mere hearsay and memories. It's too uncertain but it's the only plan they've got. It must work.
He nearly trips on a piece of rebar and he almost howls in frustration. He's too slow but it's not like he can take the tube: he's pretty sure the underground is caved in by now.
The sounds of tires skidding and persistent honking tells him getting a car would be just as much trouble as going on on foot.
He weaves between the screaming crowd. A gale of fire forms and ravages buildings a few metres away. He pulls up his arms around his face as shards of glass and bricks whiz by him. The after shocks sends him flying, and he skids on the pavement.
He doesn't lose consciousness but he is no less stunned by the fall.
He doesn't have time to lay here. The young man will his body to move, but to no avail. Curses shoot out of his mouth, or at least they should have, but what tumbles from his cracked lips is coppery spittle.
Panic shoots through him. He forcefully takes a sharp breath in and a rattled breath out. He does do until he feels a sense of muted calm. A few pathetic painstaking shifting of his frame later, he manages to sit up, and collect his fragmented thoughts.
He gathers he somehow manages to protect his head. His shifting tells him he's broken a few fingers doing so. His right hand is still useable, thankfully. He looks down on his body, nothing seems to have punctured him. His uninjured hand lightly touches his ribs. They are bruised at best, cracked at worst.
Amidst the ringing in his ears, the sirens of the city and the cries, he manages to hear soft tranquil steps creeping behind him.
He can feel his heart thump-thump-thumping against his ribcage. His face hardens, channelling every last strand of royal contempt he can muster.
"There you are!"
He sneers at the cheerful trill. It sounds pleased and tangled in a web of complicated emotion. "There you are." It repeats, voice choked by tears and bright hope.
Bells ring in a sporadic fashion before giving out one last whimper. Their chimes echoes as the very silhouette stop before him.
Its body shifts and morphs, unable to settle into a shape. It remains shrouded and vaguely human. Still it bends subserviently. Its head tilts to one side and it's eyes peer down at him; Shining as bright as the midmorning sun in a hot summer's day.
Smoke still billows around them. It's raining ashes and it smiles widely: all teeth and dimples. Were it not for the red smear on its blackened cheek, it would look endearingly harmless.
"Duck!" A woman -his sister- screams. He obeys and narrowly misses a good old fashion beheading by sword.
It's a damn pity that it avoids it too.
The thing tenses and jumps away as she swings again, funny how proficient she is at sword-fighting. She'd never so much as looked at a foil before in her life.
'She learned to handle a sword despite it being unbecoming of a lady.' He scrambles upward.
The being's face contorts itself in unadulterated fury and breaks the woman's wrist. The Sword clatters loudly on cement.
"I won't let you go, not this time." It hisses.
The creature utters a string of words under clenched teeth. Its power traps the woman between invisible constraints, she chokes on her scream as he squeezes. Ever prideful, she manages to insult him between batted breaths. She's stalling for him he realizes as he wraps his energy around her neck.
It happens quickly.
Too quickly.
He lunges for the blade, rolls and uses his momentum to stab the thing. His aim is true but Its instincts are sharper. The humanoid swings the woman onto him, knocking them both and the Sword clean off his hand.
"She must be controlling you...you would never do this." It whispers confounded by the blond's action.
Its head bobs, reasserting its decision. It twitches Its fingers and something yanks him out of the way. His sister lies on the pavement, her elbows are barely holding her upright.
Another hand movement and the Sword levitates and twirls, pointing at the woman's pale throat.
Green eyes widen in fears, her lips trembles. "Please..." She tries as the Sword rears back and charges.
Fear grips his heart and he ignores the aches in his muscles, forcing them to contract lunge towards the battered frame of his siblings. The movement knocks her down again while his large frame manages to shield her.
Red stains blossoms on his shirt before gently trickling down.
Falling down
...on her face.
They scream.
London.
Bridge.
Is...
Excalibur is lodged in his chest. Everything is muffled, but he thinks he hears a litany of no and please.
He is...
Falling...
...down.
Cradled into trembling arms.
He blinked slowly, rattling a breath as he dimly saw wild terror etched on the creature...no...the young man's face.
'I hope Morgana fled and left me for dead.'
Golden eyes water, his lips never ceasing their pleading.
'What happened?'
"I couldn't ... you. You never ...were needed...most!...thought...this...bring...back"
'I...don't...I don't think the ...gods...goddesses... fate?' His mind was slipping like sand. He lifts his hands on the man's wet cheeks, before sighing and slumping onto his body.
Arthur didn't think he rose to protect the world from...
My...
'Idiot'
...Fair...
"M...Er" the king tries.
'Frie...'
L...a...d...y...
A dragon roars in the distance as destiny warped itself.
A/N: So, I had this idea for a while and I ended up writing this. Dunno why I'm suddenly going back into this fandom. But Heck this is procrastination at its finest.
This is basically a what-if the once and future king stuff came about because Merlin finally snapped after eons of waiting.
Might have another chapter or it might not. We'll see where it the plot bunny takes me, if anywhere
Edited: for formating and spellcheking