Merthur - The King and His Guardian Angel

Chapter 7 - Morgana's Assault

A shiver runs down Merlin's spine as a smirk curls across the woman's face. She takes a step forward, her eyes sparking with a maniacal glint. Merlin begins to back away on wobbling feet. He feels his knees knocking together, his hands trembling at his sides as he continues to distance himself from the strange woman. He glances around, hoping to find some form of weapon nearby like a shovel or a broom only to find nothing.

Merlin's back hits a fence behind him. His grip tightens around the wooden posts as he tries to lean away from the woman that approaches. He almost topples backwards over the railing before a hand suddenly shoots out and grabs him. Merlin winces as the woman's grip tightens around his wrist. Her cold skin seems to freeze him still as she pulls him closer towards her, the wide grin still on her face. 

Merlin struggles against her grip, desperately trying to wrench his arm free only to have her grip tighten even more. Her smile turns into one of amusement as she watches the boy struggle. A giggle rises in the soundless night as she yanks him forward till their faces are only mere inches apart. She grabs at his face with her free hand, turning it from side to side as though inspecting him. 

"I wonder what Arthur sees in you," she coos with curiosity, eyes narrowing, "you seem like nothing special."

Merlin bites his tongue from a retort. He tries to lean away, but the woman's hold is firm. Merlin can feel his magic itching under his skin, sensing his fear and wanting to lash out. He keeps it down, not knowing what the woman is capable of. For all he knows, provoking her could make things much worse and besides, he'd rather not hurt people. Even if it is some crazed woman.

His eyes wander, searching for any way to escape from the situation. His gaze soon lingers to a spot above the woman's head and he can feel his breath catch in his throat. There, in the distance, torches are alight. The balls of fire line the edge of the forest, moving closer and closer the longer Merlin watches. He begins to breath in short, rapid breaths, fearing for the worst. 

The woman seems to notice what he's staring at. She smirks, the devilish grin appearing once again on her face. "My men," she answers without Merlin even asking, "they're here to make sure no one makes it out alive."

Merlin's gaze hardens. His fists clench at his sides. The threat to his home now overriding the fear inside him. He can see the men reaching the gates to the village. They lift up their torches, tossing them along the path and setting the fields ablaze. His magic travels towards his fingertips, ready to attack when the command is given.

"Perhaps I'll let them live," she says, pulling him a little closer, "if you take me to Arthur of course." The smile appears again. 

Merlin grits his teeth. His eyes dart around, seeing the fires littering the edges of the village. He hears shouts begin to rise up from a few of the houses as families frantically try and escape the inferno. He's tempted to give her what she wants, but the thought of betraying Arthur makes him reconsider. He cares for the king, more than he probably should considering the man is a prat and will have him killed if he discovers the truth. Nevertheless, Arthur's his friend and he refuses to allow this woman to bring Arthur any harm. Besides, who's to say she'll keep her word?

"No," Merlin says, voice firm with resolution.

Instantly, the smile disappears. Clearly, she isn't accustomed to being disobeyed. Her eyes widens and they flash gold. Before Merlin can react, he's thrown backwards. His back crashes through the rickety fence behind him. He skids across the grass, the breath knocked out of him as he tumbles across the dirt. He coughs, trying to get air back into his lungs as the woman stalks forwards. She towers over him, eyes devoid of emotion. She grabs him again, pulling him up to his feet by the collar.