When Arthur woke, he had the immediate feeling that something was wrong.
Typically, upon waking, Arthur would try to block out Merlin's incessant chatter, but this time, there was no sound of Merlin, only a cheerful trill of bird song outside his window. Arthur opened his eyes and found himself face first in his pillow. He longed to remain there, but if Merlin was late waking him, Arthur couldn't risk falling asleep and missing the next fight. That's when Arthur noticed the next thing, the light streaming through his window. The curtains were pulled back and the sun was already high up in the sky.
Arthur bolted from the comfortable bed and stumbled over to the window, glaring out at Camelot. Merlin wasn't just late. He was late and in a heap of trouble. Arthur turned on his heel and made for his wardrobe. He got dressed, which admittedly took him a lot longer than it did Merlin, though he'd never tell Merlin that. How did that fool manage it so quickly? Puzzled, annoyed and hungry, Arthur left his chambers looking positively shaggy. His hair was awry and his clothes crinkled. Where the hell was Merlin?
Arthur found himself in the kitchen, the cook looked surprised to see him. She said nothing but frowned when he stole a piece of meat. He gave her his typical princely smile, bid her good morning, then added a 'good afternoon' just encase. He left, gnawing on the meat and humming at the delicious taste. He wondered how Merlin got on eating that stupid porridge slop that Gaius served at every meal.
There was literally nobody around, no knights and no servants. Camelot was quiet. Arthur was swift, moving through the grounds, heading for the tournament arena. Upon arrival, he saw Sir Morgan fighting someone in Arthur's armour. Arthur looked up to see his father and Morgana. Uther looked downright irritated. Morgana was grinning that silly smile, pleased that the knight bearing Arthur's armour was losing.
"Father." Arthur greeted Uther as he arrived up in the royal box. Uther turned and looked shocked, the colour seeping from his face. "Arthur..?" He asked, glancing back at the fight. Arthur followed his gaze and saw an eerie blue glow around Morgans blade before it was sliding straight through the chest plate that Arthur usually wore.
The crowd was gasping and shouting. Arthur saw Morgana covering her mouth in shock. Arthur called to her and she turned her head. She looked surprised to see him. What the hell was going on?
Arthur watched the knight in his armour crumple to the floor, blood staining the dusty ground. Uther was shouting for guards. Morgana was running out with them, heading for Morgan. They were too late, and Morgan vanished in a whirl of smoke. Arthur was rooted to the spot. Where was Merlin? Arthur hadn't seen him in the crowds... Arthur had a feeling... The worst feeling...
He heard Morgana shouting. His eyes travelled to her position. She was kneeling next to the slain knight. She was pulling the helm off. Arthur sucked in a breath, of shock or horror or upset, he did not know. All he knew was that he saw Merlin. Merlin's slim features, paler than normal, blue eyes open in a cold lifeless stare. Arthur had to grasp at the wooden balcony to keep himself upright. Merlin. It was Merlin. Merlin was lying dead in the middle of the arena. No, no he wasn't dead, he couldn't be dead. Arthur wouldn't let him be dead. Arthur hadn't given him permission. Arthur hadn't said... Arthur hadn't hadn't hadn't. Arthur moved, stepping down to the arena floor. Moving forwards ever so slowly. He saw Gaius rushing from the sidelines. Arthur paused and watched the elderly man fall to his wards side. Speaking softly then loudly and Arthur saw him shaking the boy.
Arthur didn't recall making the walk across the arena ground, but he found himself next to Gaius, he felt his mouth moving, but he did not hear what he was saying. Gaius was shaking his head, his hands on Merlin's face, trying to wake the boy. Arthur's knees made a dent in the ground as he knelt down. There was nothing to say, nothing he could say. Arthur watched Gaius' hands move frantically, searching Merlin's neck for a sign of life.
There was a warm feeling on his knees, and Arthur realised it was blood. He heard Gaius choking out a few words, but Arthur's brain did not register them. All he knew was blood. Warm and thick and red. Arthur reached towards Merlin, hand shaking.
AN: So this is short and crap, but people wouldn't leave prompts and instead wanted a continuation of the last chapter... I hadn't planned one so that's the reason this sucks. Still, any prompts welcome.