Gwaine and Merlin were riding to Ealdor to visit Merlin's sick mother. Arthur wanted to come, but was occupied with kingly duties. So there the pair were, riding through the forest. "We should probably set up camp" Gwaine suggested. Merlin slowed his horse down and leapt off (he said it was graceful. It really wasn't) and started to unpack.
Merlin was on watch first and settled down next to a huge oak.
Gwaine was having a perfectly pleasant dream about a self-refilling tankard when he was awoken rather rudely by an ear-piercing scream. He jumped to his feet, grabbing for his sword, and looked around through blurry eyes. He just about made out a hoard of bandits making off with the highly expensive medicines. The horses were gone. And Merlin was impaled into a tree. Gwaine wondered if he'd been drugged. There's no way Merlin could be hurt. All those battles! He always remained unscathed! Countless treks throughout the woods without a scratch.
Regardless of possible delusions, Gwaine ran to his best friends side and kneeled down.
The earth beneath him was saturated with blood.
"Merlin!?"
"Merlin!?"
Gwaine grabbed ahold of his best friends shoulders and shook them violently.
There was no response. Gwaine didn't know when his yells turned to mutters and sobs.
It had been three days. Leon had come out to find them. Upon finding them, Leon stumbled in shock. Gwaine had not moved from Merlin's side, and Leon had to pry him away.
As Gwaine numbly walked away, only two things were in his mind.
One: The sword used to impale Merlin was cold iron.
The second?
Arthur was going to kill him.
:)
Adios,
Abi xxx
YOU ARE READING
Merthur one-shots!!
FanfictionPretty much self-explanatory. Has spoilers. Will have smut. Slash. Don't like, don't read is the simplest way of life.
