Chapter Twenty-Five: Casualties

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The battle had been brutal, swords clashing, people dying. The sea was tinged pink from the blood, the water lapping against the side of the ships Arthur had returned in.

  He sighed, watching as Morderd and his men retreated into the hills. This was only the first battle, he and his son would clash again – he was sure of that.

"Sire! Come quickly," Kay called, rushing towards him, a rough bandage over his arm.

Arthur turned to face him, noticing at once the worry in his foster brother's face.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's Gwaine," the knight answered.

Arthur was moving at once, worry for his friend filling him. He made his way to the hospital tent, ducking inside and waving off a physician who wanted to treat him.

"Leave me be," he snapped. "There are others who need your aid more than me – now, where is Sir Gwaine?"

"This way sire," the healer said, licking his lips nervously. Arthur followed him through the tents, to where Gwaine lay, a large wound on his head.

"Ah, Uncle," he said, his eyes fading in and out of focus. "You came."

"I would not leave you," Arthur said, moving to his friend's side. "What possessed you to fight? You are still weak from the battles in France, with Lancelot."

"I would not leave you," Gwaine replied. "I can still hold a sword." He grimaced, lifting a shaking hand to his head. "Or at least I could."

"You fool!" Arthur cried, angry that his friend would put himself in such danger.

"Ah, but not for much longer, eh? Do one more thing for me before I die," the knight said, lowering his arm to the bed beside him.

"You are not dying, Nephew," Arthur growled.

"It is too late for me, sire," Gwaine said. "Now, do as I request. I would have a letter written to Lancelot – begging him to aid you and asking for his forgiveness." He closed his eyes and sighed. "I acted rashly. But now I shall join my brothers again."

Arthur bowed his head, tears welling in his eyes.

"It shall be as you asked," he said quietly.

"Stay with me, Arthur?" Gwaine breathed.

"I will not leave you," Arthur said. He stayed by Gwaine's side until his old friend died, until he passed on to join his brothers. He stayed by his friend's side until he passed from his world.

And when Gwaine was finished, Arthur himself buried his nephew's body, sadness for his old friend filling him. And when Gwaine died, he was even more determined to defeat Morderd.


Maria was the only one with a gun, which she had originally thought would be a problem. But she hadn't counted on Arthur's expert leadership – he obviously knew about the guns.

Holding their shields above them, the knights charged forward, bellowing battle cries, a slight glow from their skin. Half the soldiers turned and ran at once.

Standing in front of them was a man – Maria at first thought he was one of Arthur's Knights, he wore the same kind of armour and was also glowing. Arthur skidded to a stop in front of him, and the two faced each other.

"Welcome back, father," the man said, smirking.

"Morderd. But... How?" Arthur said, blinking slightly in surprise. Maria let out a small gasp – it was Morderd? But how was he here?

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