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Entry tags:
Merlin - Failure
Title: Failure
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: PG
Length: 450 words
Summary: A single word can have different connotations depending upon the context, or the person.
Author's Notes: I found this scribbled in the notes section of my iPad from quite some time ago and decided to clean it up and have a go at it.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no profit from this.
Also available on AO3.
"I just want to go home," Merlin had declared, voice not much more than a whisper.
Arthur looked at the grime encrusted wrists, the clothing liberally smeared with dirt and blood and who knew what else. He doubted Merlin would be able to stand, let alone make the journey back to the castle unaided.
Merlin, of course, had to prove him wrong.
The injured man stumble-lurched from the tiny barred hovel of a room on the far side of the borders of the lower town, through the muddy streets and over the uneven cobbles. He did not even pause at the front gates, which thankfully opened at Arthur's nod as he doubted Merlin himself would not have known enough to not run into them. He did not pause when he reached the heavy oak doors either, the guards rushing to hold them for the line of people that followed.
It was only inside, around the corner so not to be viewed by the many eyes that remained in the courtyard, that he collapsed.
Arthur caught him and, together with Gwaine, lowered him to the stone floor. Percival and Leon formed a human wall to prevent curious onlookers from seeing him falter, and Elyan ran ahead to make sure everything they would need would be ready and waiting for them upon their arrival.
The four knights and Arthur had formed a sort of honour guard from the pit of filth all the way to the crisp halls of Camelot herself, ready to catch, ready to carry, ready to support in any way needed.
Arthur reached to pick up his fallen friend, surprised to find the faintest sliver of blue staring out at him. "I failed," Merlin whispered, voice not much more than a choked sob.
Arthur thought of the utter destruction that had surrounded the tiny hovel, of the warning received in time to prevent a full out attack, of the known sorcerers that ducked and slunk away into the shadows as he and his knights had reached their goal. Of how he let them go when they nodded at him and stepped away not from their prisoner, but the man they seemed to want to protect. Sorcerers and knights, Druids and soldiers of the crown, working together to turn back a tide he did not doubt ran far deeper than the crest he had been witness to. Working together to protect one supposed imbecile caught right in the middle of it all, bowing as much to his whims as those if their declared sovereign.
He shook his head and blinked away something that he resolutely refused to admit were tears, and promised him, "No, you idiot, you did not."
Feedback is always welcomed.
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: PG
Length: 450 words
Summary: A single word can have different connotations depending upon the context, or the person.
Author's Notes: I found this scribbled in the notes section of my iPad from quite some time ago and decided to clean it up and have a go at it.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no profit from this.
Also available on AO3.
"I just want to go home," Merlin had declared, voice not much more than a whisper.
Arthur looked at the grime encrusted wrists, the clothing liberally smeared with dirt and blood and who knew what else. He doubted Merlin would be able to stand, let alone make the journey back to the castle unaided.
Merlin, of course, had to prove him wrong.
The injured man stumble-lurched from the tiny barred hovel of a room on the far side of the borders of the lower town, through the muddy streets and over the uneven cobbles. He did not even pause at the front gates, which thankfully opened at Arthur's nod as he doubted Merlin himself would not have known enough to not run into them. He did not pause when he reached the heavy oak doors either, the guards rushing to hold them for the line of people that followed.
It was only inside, around the corner so not to be viewed by the many eyes that remained in the courtyard, that he collapsed.
Arthur caught him and, together with Gwaine, lowered him to the stone floor. Percival and Leon formed a human wall to prevent curious onlookers from seeing him falter, and Elyan ran ahead to make sure everything they would need would be ready and waiting for them upon their arrival.
The four knights and Arthur had formed a sort of honour guard from the pit of filth all the way to the crisp halls of Camelot herself, ready to catch, ready to carry, ready to support in any way needed.
Arthur reached to pick up his fallen friend, surprised to find the faintest sliver of blue staring out at him. "I failed," Merlin whispered, voice not much more than a choked sob.
Arthur thought of the utter destruction that had surrounded the tiny hovel, of the warning received in time to prevent a full out attack, of the known sorcerers that ducked and slunk away into the shadows as he and his knights had reached their goal. Of how he let them go when they nodded at him and stepped away not from their prisoner, but the man they seemed to want to protect. Sorcerers and knights, Druids and soldiers of the crown, working together to turn back a tide he did not doubt ran far deeper than the crest he had been witness to. Working together to protect one supposed imbecile caught right in the middle of it all, bowing as much to his whims as those if their declared sovereign.
He shook his head and blinked away something that he resolutely refused to admit were tears, and promised him, "No, you idiot, you did not."
Feedback is always welcomed.