[A/N: Dw about me forgetting abt Wattpad for a few months and only posting on AO3... HERE IS ANOTHER CHAPTER! (all of my books have their same titles on all websites)]
Although pain is a pleasant reminder of what not to do, his ribs have finally stopped hurting when he takes deep breaths. That is, admittedly, wonderful news. Ordinary people kinda need to be able to do that, as does Merlin. This is important to him as he must run during very inconvenient times.
What sort of dumb luck does Merlin have, anyway?
Now, he is visiting Ealdor with Gwaine. The village is close by, but Merlin was out gathering blackberries while his mother taught the knight to make a very simple crust. The berries are a great excuse to go get some deep breaths of fresh air, now that he can, and he's been done with picking the fruit for a few moments.
Nevertheless, he is currently heading opposite his childhood home.
Why? Well, Kilgarrah felt the need to 1, Scare him with sudden mind-speak, so that his heart leaped into his throat, telling him that he was landing nearby, and 2, warn him that he heard a strange serpent in the vicinity. Well, he wanted to head toward the great dragon, but... his dumb luck struck once again:
He's currently running from the serpent, who is resistant to his dragon tongue. Great.
He still decides to run toward Kilgarrah anyway.
Merlin is sprinting as well as he can through the trees, legs landing in leaves with a chhh ch chh.
Feet land in the smallish clearing, and the warlock turns to the offending beast.
Too large and too weird to be an oversized snake, the serpent rolls and twists over the land. Thudding. Going forward. A long body tumbling over tree roots and rocks.
A dragon-Esque head is what he first sees. Its eyes are small in comparison to the gaping maw that rests on its neck. Merlin can barely see them as it barrels through the underbrush.
Then, it's in the clearing.
"Hleap on bæc!" The mage yells, hand outstretched.
The legless lizard moves, pushed away only to lean back with a wyvern-Esque screech. Its head shakes and so does its neck. Violent and intimidating.
Well, that doesn't help Merlin calm down at all.
.oOo.
The crumbly stuff that was to be crust for the pastries had been done for a few minutes. Therefore, Hunith sent Gwaine out to find Merlin. The knight dutifully goes, really adoring the woman who raised his friend. Merlin makes a bit more sense now with his big ears, smile, and tentative moments.
What precious gestures can a parent give their child in their posture, their hands, and the way they speak? Gwaine wishes he remembers what mannerisms his father had. Was he like him at all?
He passes by what looks like a patch of berries, but Gwaine is stopped before he looks further.
The screech Gwaine hears (where Merlin is supposed to be) does not make sense. Was there a random pheasant in the woods now? Typical.
He picks up pace and spies the beast. Oh. A.. hydra, the spikes indicate. And a.. very young one– only one head.
Gwaine had only seen one in his life, and he has lasting shock, still. For one, he stumbles to a stop and cannot move any further. A hydra, here. No thoughtless choices. He'd been reckless last time.
Another eardrum basher of a roar signals a lunging movement. Needle-like spikes puff up from its scales, where the plates on the nape join at the breast. It looks like a strange mane.
YOU ARE READING
Mostly because dead people don't talk back
FanfictionVery often and sometimes a bit too many times for his taste, Gwaine found himself in very unique situations when near to Merlin. The smell of blood and dirt smothered his senses, and Gwaine couldn't get up the energy to remove himself from this sit...
