One Prison is much like another - part 51A
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: One Prison is much like another - part 51A
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Morgana, Aithusa
Summary: Dragons are a handful, whether they be days old or centuries. Arthur wasn’t having any of it. But nothing is delicate in warfare.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 705
Camelot Drabble Prompt #638: delicate
Author’s notes: With Uther dead, Arthur is king, true, but he still has a stick up his butt about Merlin. And dragons. And magic.
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In an instant, the world was filled with pain, the air thick with weapons, the deliberate shouts of Morgana’s army as they ran forward echoing across fields and forest.
Arthur scrambled back, his sword flashing in the morning light as he fought through the volley of bolts aimed at him. The remnants of wood and death scattered at his feet.
But even Arthur couldn’t keep it up. Not with crossbows targeting him.
Merlin hadn’t wanted to show himself so quickly to the enemy, not when waiting could bring some kind of surprise when they most needed it. But he wasn’t willing to gamble on Arthur’s life either.
Merlin didn’t shout, though, didn’t reveal himself. Instead, reaching out, he threw a magical shield up around Arthur, the power shimmering in the morning light, strong enough to keep crossbow bolts and lances from plunging through.
For an instant, he could see Morgana looking around, trying to see whose magic was keeping Arthur safe. But it didn’t last long. She was too busy shouting at the men around her, insisting on Arthur’s capture, threatening torture and death if they didn’t overwhelm Camelot’s army and bring her Arthur’s head.
The thing was that Merlin needed to do more than keep Arthur safe. He needed to help the knights fight back. But they were having a rough time. The army Morgana had accumulated was huge and overwhelming in spots, and the sorcerers under her command were throwing fireballs and boulders at them all. There were screams and blood and somehow Camelot’s finest weren’t retreating, were still fighting with all their strength.
He could hear the triumph in Morgana’s laugh as it echoed across the valley when it seemed that she was winning after all.
Still, as luck would have it or maybe it was Leon’s strategy, but a few knights moved closer to Arthur, surrounding him, their shields as solid as a wall, and pushing him back out of harm’s way. The arse was protesting, of course. Even from a distance, Merlin could see the anger and frustration of Arthur not being in the thick of things.
But that made things easier. Turning back to the mass of men shouting as they ran toward Arthur’s position, Merlin sent out a lightning bolt into the thick of it, the sound exploding in the air, the flash of light blinding. Suddenly there were soldiers flying everywhere and some of the sorcerers, too, screams filling the air as they landed on rocks and broken branches. Bodies with bright blossoms of blood sprouting from chests and heads lay in the dust.
It wouldn’t be enough, though, not unless he could somehow defeat the magic users helping Morgana.
Gathering strength, determined to bring this to an end, he sent another bolt toward Morgana and the crowd of sorcerers around here. He didn’t want to kill them. He hated the very idea of those with the gift dying at his command, but he hoped to at least frighten them enough to retreat.
It didn’t help. Yes, a few of them staggered back out of the way, but then they seemed to regroup, nodding toward Morgana as she pointed at Arthur’s position. An instant later, there were fireballs hitting the trees around Arthur and wind whirling up, dirt and broken branches clogging the air.
Merlin had had enough.
From his hand, a dozen lightning bolts split the air, the ground churning as they hit, and screams started to rise as the roars of destruction died away. Several of the sorcerers lay dead, and the few left turned and ran, ignoring Morgana’s fury.
Using his advantage, he sent another bolt toward Morgana, but she must have sensed it coming, Moving quickly out of the way, she screamed her frustration, then sent another wave of power toward Arthur.
The ground was moving, the trees beginning to burn, but still Merlin held fast. He lifted a sapling up, ripping it out by its roots, and leaves ablaze sent it toward Morgana’s position.
She must have been distracted a second because it was Aithusa that caught the wood, midair, then tossed it aside, back toward Merlin’s position.
In that moment, Morgana’s eyes widened as she realized Merlin wasn’t dead after all.
Title: One Prison is much like another - part 51A
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Morgana, Aithusa
Summary: Dragons are a handful, whether they be days old or centuries. Arthur wasn’t having any of it. But nothing is delicate in warfare.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 705
Camelot Drabble Prompt #638: delicate
Author’s notes: With Uther dead, Arthur is king, true, but he still has a stick up his butt about Merlin. And dragons. And magic.
-------
In an instant, the world was filled with pain, the air thick with weapons, the deliberate shouts of Morgana’s army as they ran forward echoing across fields and forest.
Arthur scrambled back, his sword flashing in the morning light as he fought through the volley of bolts aimed at him. The remnants of wood and death scattered at his feet.
But even Arthur couldn’t keep it up. Not with crossbows targeting him.
Merlin hadn’t wanted to show himself so quickly to the enemy, not when waiting could bring some kind of surprise when they most needed it. But he wasn’t willing to gamble on Arthur’s life either.
Merlin didn’t shout, though, didn’t reveal himself. Instead, reaching out, he threw a magical shield up around Arthur, the power shimmering in the morning light, strong enough to keep crossbow bolts and lances from plunging through.
For an instant, he could see Morgana looking around, trying to see whose magic was keeping Arthur safe. But it didn’t last long. She was too busy shouting at the men around her, insisting on Arthur’s capture, threatening torture and death if they didn’t overwhelm Camelot’s army and bring her Arthur’s head.
The thing was that Merlin needed to do more than keep Arthur safe. He needed to help the knights fight back. But they were having a rough time. The army Morgana had accumulated was huge and overwhelming in spots, and the sorcerers under her command were throwing fireballs and boulders at them all. There were screams and blood and somehow Camelot’s finest weren’t retreating, were still fighting with all their strength.
He could hear the triumph in Morgana’s laugh as it echoed across the valley when it seemed that she was winning after all.
Still, as luck would have it or maybe it was Leon’s strategy, but a few knights moved closer to Arthur, surrounding him, their shields as solid as a wall, and pushing him back out of harm’s way. The arse was protesting, of course. Even from a distance, Merlin could see the anger and frustration of Arthur not being in the thick of things.
But that made things easier. Turning back to the mass of men shouting as they ran toward Arthur’s position, Merlin sent out a lightning bolt into the thick of it, the sound exploding in the air, the flash of light blinding. Suddenly there were soldiers flying everywhere and some of the sorcerers, too, screams filling the air as they landed on rocks and broken branches. Bodies with bright blossoms of blood sprouting from chests and heads lay in the dust.
It wouldn’t be enough, though, not unless he could somehow defeat the magic users helping Morgana.
Gathering strength, determined to bring this to an end, he sent another bolt toward Morgana and the crowd of sorcerers around here. He didn’t want to kill them. He hated the very idea of those with the gift dying at his command, but he hoped to at least frighten them enough to retreat.
It didn’t help. Yes, a few of them staggered back out of the way, but then they seemed to regroup, nodding toward Morgana as she pointed at Arthur’s position. An instant later, there were fireballs hitting the trees around Arthur and wind whirling up, dirt and broken branches clogging the air.
Merlin had had enough.
From his hand, a dozen lightning bolts split the air, the ground churning as they hit, and screams started to rise as the roars of destruction died away. Several of the sorcerers lay dead, and the few left turned and ran, ignoring Morgana’s fury.
Using his advantage, he sent another bolt toward Morgana, but she must have sensed it coming, Moving quickly out of the way, she screamed her frustration, then sent another wave of power toward Arthur.
The ground was moving, the trees beginning to burn, but still Merlin held fast. He lifted a sapling up, ripping it out by its roots, and leaves ablaze sent it toward Morgana’s position.
She must have been distracted a second because it was Aithusa that caught the wood, midair, then tossed it aside, back toward Merlin’s position.
In that moment, Morgana’s eyes widened as she realized Merlin wasn’t dead after all.