Merlin Alternate Ending

Chapter 7: Merlin

"I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death."

~Thomas Paine

Merlin's POV

I stomp through the forest angrily, trying not to cry. I know I should've expected Arthur's distrust, but it still leaves a deep ache in my chest. He hates me. I repeat in my head, over and over.

I've walked a few hundred feet into the forest before I realize that I'm not picking up firewood. I bend over and begin gathering sticks that are scattered on the forest floor under a tree. No matter how angry I am, Arthur needs me.

Even as I try to calm the pain rising inside of me, it boils up, filling me with a desire to do something. All of the frustration and fear and anger builds up in my chest and before I know what I'm doing my hand flies up, my eyes flash gold, and the branches from the nearest trees come crashing to the ground. I yell and hurl all of the sticks that I've collected as far as I can into the surrounding forest. The last one hits a clump of bushes and a loud squawking comesfrom among the leaves. I creep up to the shrubs. Between the branches I can see spots of white. I peer behind them and my heart jumps into my throat.

Aithusa.

Morgana.

I can't breathe. I don't think. My legs pound across the forest floor without any direction from me. One word screams in my head, echoing even harder than my heartbeat. Arthur. Arthur. ARTHUR. I have to get back to Arthur before Morgana finds him!

I crash through thorns and nearly trip over roots, but somehow I manage to stay upright. Low-hanging twigs slap me in the face, but I ignore the sting of pain and keep running.

When I burst into the clearing I am so relieved that my knees almost buckle. Arthur and Kilgharrah sit just where I left them, talking. Alive.

The two of them stare at me, obviously startled by my expression. I stand there gasping for a moment before I can finally choke out "I saw....Aithusa......I was afraid....Morgana might--"

A line of cold metal presses against my throat, cutting off the end of my sentence.

Arthur gasps and tries to rise, but his face contorts with pain and he falls back to the ground. "You!" he growls breathlessly. Kilgharrah steps forward, analyzing the situation, but I can see that he knows it is hopeless.

I don't have to look behind me to know whose sword is resting on my neck, waiting to kill.

"Morgana." I spit.

A peal of soft, poisonous laughter fills the air, like the sound of a deadly brook trickling over the rocks. "You were right to be afraid, Emrys." She taunts, hatred dripping from her sickly-sweet voice. She tightens her grip on my arm, her long finger nails digging into my skin. I resist the urge to wince. "I am going to kill you, after all." The smile is gone from her voice now, leaving nothing but the harsh, sharo sound of stone hitting stone.

"No!" Arthur yells. He is one his feet now--barely--leaning heavily on his sword, one pale hand pressed against Kilgharrah's leg.

Morgana laughs again, real amusement mixing with the hatred in the sound. "And what makes you think you can stop me, brother?" She says the word like an insult, a dagger of pure hate aimed straight at Arthur's heart. "You can barely stand."

I speak up before he can reply. "She's right, Arthur." I wheez around the blade pressing down on my throat. "You can't fight her. Go."

"No, Merlin. I'm not leaving you." Normally the fierceness of his face, the glint of defiance in his eyes, despite the mask of pain covering his features, would have given me hope. Now it just terrifies me. He is going to die. I realize. Arthur is going to die trying to save me. The thought almost breaks me.