fic: It Starts When You're Around
Title: It Starts When You're Around
Author: calliglad
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: minor gore
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of the characters involved. This is for entertainment purposes with no wish to offend.
Drums sound in Merlin's head when Arthur is near. Not all the time, just occasionally enough for it to frighten him.
Like now, the screams of men and horses, the clashing of sword and shields, maces and mail, drowned out by the beating of drums.
"Merlin," shouts Arthur, and Merlin nearly slips in the mud. Arthur's voice is as clear as ever, carrying over the sounds of men fighting, dying, over even the infernal pounding.
"Merlin!" says Arthur again and Merlin goes to him, each step easier than the last, as if being pulled along by a current. Arthur's horse looks done in, half-covered in filth, nostrils red and eyes white. Arthur looks little better. Merlin struggles to get closer, to touch and silence the almighty drumming, but his hand only meets cold chainmail.
"Merlin?" Arthur looks distressed, distracted from battle, and Merlin wonders how he can't hear it, thrumming in his skin.
"We won't win," he says, knowing the words to be true even as he speaks them. "If we carry on like this, we'll die. Everyone."
Arthur looks stunned and Merlin can't think of another way to make him understand. He grabs Arthur's hand, works his thumb between the glove and the gauntlet and, as soon as their skin touches, he knows Arthur can hear it too, thundering in their ears.
"They'll rise again," says Arthur, like he's listening to the wind. "After they die, they'll come back. What must be done?"
"The altar," replies Merlin, pointing into the field of battle. "Their life is being channelled through it. It must be broken."
Arthur nods, raising his sword in the air. "Knights of Camelot, rally to me!"
The knights turn as one and begin hacking towards Arthur. Merlin blasts a path for them and runs for the altar as fast as the horses can gallop. The knights form a ring around the stone table as Arthur scrambles to climb onto it. Merlin hears a roll of thunder, sees a flash of silver and snatches the arrow out of the air.
Arthur stares at him, blood running down his face. "What now?"
"Gloves off," Merlin tells him over the din, taking his sword from him. While Arthur strips his gloves, Merlin cuts both his palms open and says, "Do you trust me?"
"More than words can tell," says Arthur, holding out his hands. Merlin cuts his palms as well and they hold Excalibur together, point down, hand over hand, high overhead.
"Ready?" he says.
Arthur smiles and says, "For you? Never."
Merlin smiles back and shuts his eyes against the rising wind and the flash of lightning and the beating of the drums, getting louder and louder
and louder
and
Excalibur drops.
The rain starts. Merlin opens his eyes and watches his and Arthur's mingled blood drop down the blade into the deep crack in the altar. The battlefield is flattened, but scarlet coloured figures are stirring. Arthur's grinning in relief and Merlin takes his face in his hands and kisses him, smearing blood all over his cheeks. When he draws away, he notices.
The drumming has stopped. For now, it's quiet.