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Like a shadow, death followed Arthur Pendragon wherever he went, the ghost that haunted his every step, pushed and pulled him through his days, shoving him to the ground before holding his hand to pull him up.The startling white bones of it glistened in the darkest corners of of every room and the morning sun lit it up as it rose each day. The chill of deaths sharp, bony fingers haunted Arthur from the moment he took his first breath to his last.
It was his nightmare, and it was the only thing that Arthur Pendragon feared.

***

At age 7 he lay in his bed, Gaius leaned over him with his hand to his head whilst his father stood at his feet. A small breathe shook his body while his chest slowly rose and fell beneath the blanket.
Gaius took his hand away from his head and turned to face Uther and at the back of his mind Arthur heard a muffled voice speak out over him.

“The boy is not well my lord, but I gave him the herbs two days ago, he should be awake by now.”
The man hovering over him took a step back, and the sun streamed into his face as he stepped out the way.

The boy did not move.

A second voice, deeper and more horse, spoke out from the end of the bed.
“Gaius I do not care how you do it, you will help my son. I will not watch him die.”
Gaius walked over to the king, and placed a hand on his arm, “please my lord, get some rest I will check on the boy in a few hours, I will give him something new, it may take a while to have an effect.”
The old man guided the hesitant king from the bed and out of the room, taking one look back at the unconscious boy in the bed before slowly shutting the door behind him.

Arthur’s mind ran while his body fought the illness. His thoughts clouded with blurry images of light and dark while he failed to wake.
A cool wind blew through the room and the small fire dwindled down to a few sparks. The young boy’s body shivered as his mind strained to find warmth in his body.

A hand reached out over the boy and like ice, rested on his arm, so cold it burned. The boy writhed in pain and his body shook once more. The hand ran it’s fingers down his arm, resting it’s hand in his own, gripping it tightly. His breathe quickened and his heart rate began to drop, the thoughts in his mind did all to stay there as a dark blanket began to smother them.

The young Prince saw a being step out from the darkest shadows, glowing under that small fire light and it took his head in it’s other hand, tracing the bones in his jaw while Arthur shook and pulled his head from it’s grasp. Pulling his hand away from the bones that gripped it, the thing only held on harder, gripping his arm with such force the boy made out to scream in pain.

He twisted and turned, the bony body revolved around his, never letting go.
More and more his movements began to still, his arm going numb under the figures hold and his body began to grow heavy, only the lightest breathes remaining.

Once more Gaius entered the room, and hurried his way over the boy. Laying his hand on his chest he felt only the smallest of movements and checked his forehead.

It was freezing cold.

Pulling out a small vial from his pocket he began to untie the string that binded it closed. It contained a deep, opaque, blue liquid, slightly thicker than water but not enough to be as thick as cream. It swirled and shined under the small light in the room.

Tipping the boys head slightly back, Gaius poured the contents of the glass into his mouth. He watched the boy with an intense stare for a second while his eyes flew back and fourth under his eyelids before walking over to the fire and building its flames again with more wood.

Arthur felt the cool liquid enter his body, and an instant relief flooded through his veins as he felt his body’s tremors slow down. The thing gripping his arm dropped it like it was scolding hot and without anywhere for it to come from let out an ear piercing scream that caused the young boy to startle awake just as it slinked back into a shadow of the room and faded away.

Arthur let out a small croaky gasp and Gaius turned round and smiled at him.
“Arthur, my boy, how are you feeling?”
The boy struggled to sit up and hurriedly pulled his body up to face him.
Concern flashed across the older man’s face and he made his way over to the boy, “Arthur?”
Panic laced Arthur’s eyes and they darted around the corners of the room, searching in the shadows. He looked up at Gaius with tears in his eyes.
Gaius reached out to the young Prince and carefully placed his hand on the boys arm, “it’s ok.”

At the feeling of Gaius’ hand, Arthur jerked backwards in the bed and violently brought his arm up to his chest, gripping it tightly where the two hands had lay rest.
Gaius frowned at him before taking a step back, dropping his arms.
“You must sleep Arthur, your are still very ill you must get some rest now.”
Arthur stared at him, scared, as Gaius began to leave the room looking back at him. He blew out the small candles around the room and the princes chambers delve into darkness as only the soft glow of the fire was left. Gaius made way to shut the door and gave one last smile to the boy still sat up on the bed.

“You will begin to feel better by morning, just sleep.”
He pulled the door shut gently and his footsteps echoed into the room as he walked away.

Arthur pulled the furs that lay on him tightly up to his head and lay down in the bed. His eyes stared at the smooth wood above his bed and they did not wander. He did not sleep again that night, and he did not look to the shadows.

***
“Arthur! Come on.“ A boy, no more than 13, ran through the stone corridors of the castle and the warm sun came streaming through the windows, lighting him up as he ran. He looked back and a few metres behind him a boy, barely a year younger than him run towards him. The boy with golden hair that brushed over his eyes and clothes only fit for a royal, grinned and ran faster. The boys turned corners of the castle before breaking through large castle entrance and into the bright courtyard below.

Dodging the busy people at work, the pair ducked and swerved in between them, running past a large group of knight in the middle of training. They all looked up as two speeding boys ran past them and the one in charge called out to them in concern.
“Sire? Arthur, where are you going?”
Before he could get a response the boys were already at the other side of the courtyard and beginning to run into the town and away from the castle.

As they ran further and further from the centre of Camelot, the older boy slowed down to a walk and the prince fell into step with him. The pair grinned at each other and smiled politely at the people milling around the lower town. A few gave the royal boy an odd look before continuing to walk on and Arthur stared at the floor. The other boy watched him before grabbing his sleeve and pulling him into a run again.

Slowly the people became less and less and the houses began to be replaced with trees as the pair began to make their way through into the woods. The hot sun flickering through the leaves on the swaying trees and lighting them a small path through the green. The pair pushed themselves through a small space in a dense bush and entered a clearing.

Sat in the centre of the clearing was a flowing stream. It’s water shining like the crystals found in the princes chambers and the it rippled with movement as it gently went downstream, seeping into the woods. Quickly taking off his shoes Arthur placed them into the small bag at his side and the other boy followed.

Carefully stepping into the shallow water, the cool liquid splashing over their ankles. They began to follow the direction of the stream, making their way further into the woods and soon they left the clearing, the trees incasing them and the stream once more. As they walked further, trying to shove each other into the water and avoid slipping on the stones, the sun grew hotter and hotter as it rose higher into the sky.

Slowly the river got too deep to walk in and Arthur pulled himself up onto the bank before reaching to help the older boy up as he laughed, struggling to pull himself up. Not bothering to put their shoes back on the boys started to run further along next to the stream, their laughter echoing through the trees. The stream then broke away into a large lake, the sun glistening on the water as endless fields lined it on one side which tall hills and cliffs blocking off the other side.

The boys dropped down on the grass outside of the woods on the bank of the lake and lay back. Staring at the sky, perfect, fluffy clouds slowly drifted about it, as their eyes searched them for shapes. The sun sat at midday and reflected across the whole lake making it shimmer and it streamed into their eyes, causing them to squint.

The pair sat up next to each other and faced out onto the water. Arthur pulled a loaf of bread, fresh from the mornings breakfast, and tore it in half, handing the larger part to the boy next to him. They smiled at each other and sat in the calm wind, talking and laughing as they ate.

Lying on their backs, all the food gone, Arthur jumped up and looked down at the other boy.
“Swimming?” He asked, holding his hand out to the other.
The other grinned and grabbed his hand, pulling himself up and landing next to the prince. Not yet letting go, he began to drag Arthur up one of the stone cliffs next to the lake and Arthur grinned widely.
“Last one to the top jumps first.”
The older of the two let out a loud laugh and dropped his hand, running up the side of the stone. Arthur laughed after him, and followed him up, picking up speed and overtaking him before reaching the stone ledge over the water. He stood there, hand on his hips and watched the other boy scramble up after him. The other boy reached him peered down at the water below. It looked higher up there than it did before and he gulped. Arthur watched him.

“Go on then.”

The older boy looked back with a small smile and took a few steps back, past Arthur and got prepared.

“Ready?”

With a small nod the boy ran towards the edge of the cliff and leaped from it, letting out a loud yell that echoed across the lake before plummeting down out of sight. Before he even hit the water, Arthur leapt from the cliff after him and turned around. Below him the boy landed in the water with a deafening crash, too loud, and Arthur’s heart dropped. As he fell out of sight of the cliff, Arthur took one look back at the edge as he straightened out ready for impact and as in a flash of movement, he saw a glistening, bright white, figure stand above him looking down and stepping of the ledge after him.

Arthur sucked in a deep breath, his mind beginning to shock before his smashed into the cold water below, sinking deep into the lake. Throwing his arms about in a panic, he began hurriedly swimming to the surface, trying to reach the light above him. Putting in every bit of strength to get away from the shadows as his legs stung from hitting the water. Breaking through the waters surface, his breathing grew fast as he looked around the water, the rest of it still, the figure not in sight. The other boy not in sight.

“Oh no, please no.” Under his breathe Arthur panicked and began to call out.
“Please no.”

A splash appeared a few metres away from him and Arthur flew towards it as the other boy’s hand tried to break through the water. Arthur grabbed him and tried to haul him up, to get his head out of the water as he frantically moved his arms in every direction. Looking down in the water Arthur saw the boys legs sprawled at impossible angles, floating about as if they were made of clay. As the boys movements slowed Arthur rushed back to the surface to take a breath before diving down to grab him again and pull him upwards as hard as he could.
The older boys eyes fluttered closed as his arms stopped thrashing about and his jaw went slack. Panicking Arthur cried out in the water and pushed the boy up, when he was pulled down again.

Arthur looked down at the boys legs again, looking for a rope or plant they had got caught in when he spotted the bony white hand gripping them. Like an artist, it moulded the bones in his legs, they bent and turned and rotated in ways a person could not imagine, and slowly the hands began to claw their way up his legs.

Arthurs mind went blank and his vision blurred as he gripped the boys hand, not letting go as he swam up to get another breathe before pulling the boy, trying to get him out of its grasp. He kicked and shoved at the hands underwater in the middle of the lake and they did not budge. They reached the boys ribcage and Arthur could see the pure white arms reaching out from the darkness below. They began to squeeze his chest. Gripping it so tightly that it looked to burst. Arthur thrashed about in the water as he couldn’t get the boys limp body away from the grasp of the terror that held him. The hands didn’t budge as Arthur tugged at the body.

Until they dropped it.

It suddenly let go of the young boy and as quickly as it appeared on the cliff, it sunk down into the depths of the lake, and at the sudden release of force, Arthur jerked back in the water and began to drag the body up towards the surface. Using every muscle in him, he broke through the water and took a breathe, crying out. He began to drag the deadweight of the body through the water, slowly making his way to the grassy bank. He never managed to get the boys head out of the water, the body floating beneath him as he gripped the boys arm with such force he thought it might snap.

As soon as his hand reached the grass on the side of the lake Arthur cried out, pushing the body out onto the land, it rolled forwards, landing face first. Breathing heavily Arthur tried to pull himself out of the water, his arms shaking as they were going numb from the water and with the last ounce of strength in himself, he hauled himself out of the water, crawling only a few metres before collapsing into a heap on the ground. The body mere feet away from him. He didn’t check it.

He didn’t know if the boy was alive and didn’t trust himself to look.

He wasn’t sure how long had passed before he managed to bring himself to his feet again. The sun sat low in the sky and he managed to drag himself over to the bag he had left on the grass earlier that day. Grabbing the jacket he has placed in it from earlier, Arthur began to bring himself to his feet, and shaking, begin to stumble his way to the boy laying on the grass.
Standing over him, he did not turn him over, his face lay in the dirt and without a sound Arthur placed the jacket over the top part of the body and turned around. He made only a couple of steps before he cried out and collapsed to him knees. He sunk into himself and the prince buried his head in his arms, a sob escaping him as tears overflowed.

The sun began to set over the lake and the grassy bank began to blend into the darkness of the nearby trees. Arthurs face was stained with tears as he continued to cry every time he saw the boy. The air began to cool as the heat of the sun left and his body began to shiver, a deep chill settling in his bones.
Slowly the moon began to take its place in the sky and Arthur sat curled up on the grass in darkness, unable to move.

He didn’t know what time it was by the time he saw the flashes of light in between the tree and the sound of shouting he recognised as the knights of Camelot and his father. He tried to call out to them and his voice came out barely a whisper. He began to cough, trying to call out, to be able to be heard. To be found. When one of the knights came running into the clearing and spotted him, calling out into the woods, he went over to the boy huddled on the ground.
“Sire, I have found him.”
Arthur continued to cry as a group of knights came tumbling out of the trees and his father ran over to him.

“Arthur! Where have you been? The entire kingdom has been searching for you all day and night”

He grabbed the boys arm and looked into his teary face, “Are you crying? There is no need to…” he stopped short when he looked at Arthur.
Arthur looked at the young boys body on the ground nearby, the knights turning him over and lifting the jacket of his face to recognise the young boy of the castle, some of them taking a sharp breathe in when seeing his legs. Uther looked over at Arthur’s gaze and his face softened briefly before he frowned and looked back at his son.
Uther took the prince by the shoulders and guided his away from the lake to the horses while Arthur watched the knights lift up the boys body. The place was silent as the king put Arthur on a horse and spoke out to him as he began to ride away.

“No man is worth your tears.”

***

Scanning his eyes into the overgrown green Arthur held his hand up, halting the knights behind him.
“Arthur?” Merlin called out from behind him.
Whipping his head back and staring at the man on the horse behind him Arthur gave him a sharp glare.
“Merlin,” he hissed at him. “Shut your mouth for once, I see something.”

The knights began to ride up behind Arthur, getting ready to react to any sudden movements. Scanning the forest around him, the men sat tense on their horses, swords gripped tightly by their sides and Merlin watched, quietly next to Arthur, his mind running through the magic that could fight whatever emerged from the trees.

As no more movement came from in front of the men, Arthur frowned and slowly lowered his hand. Looking again at the area, he glanced back at his knights around him, before giving a short nod and slowly guiding his horse forward again. Out in the forest, the sound of a snapping branch froze the knights again and the air around them ran tense.

Reaching his hand out above him, Arthur began to push a tree branch out of the way of his face. As his hand gripped over the small branch a second hand landed on his. It glistened under the midday sun and it was so cold that goosebumps ran down his arm. Arthurs heart rate leaped and he pulled his hand back with such force he jolted the horse. who at the sudden movement began to turn into chaos.

“Arthur!”

The knights quickly began to grow panicked and their horses flew after him as the princes horse began to run through the foliage in front of them in a panic.

As they broke through the trees, Merlin followed them through and behind the leaves, a hoard of bandits stood in front of them, their swords raised steadily at the sound of the sudden movement. Arthur, still trying to get his horse under control, looked at the swarm of people and his stomach turned inside of him. Taking a deep breath he gripped the horses reins as tight at he could and looked at the knights behind him, giving them a short nod before they pulled their swords from their sides and charged forwards.

Merlin backed his horse up and carefully scanned the fight in front of him. His eyes focused on Arthur, a sharp concentrated look over taking his face. Watching him fight the bandits, Arthur was tense, he swung his sword with enough force to knock over ten men instead of the one he was fighting.

The man fighting him got lucky, his sword piercing the armour on Arthur’s arm and leaving a deep gash. Letting out a yell his eyes widened and he hit the other with a hard blow to the head, Arthur jumped off his horse and made his way over to him. The prince stood near the man as blood began to spill from his head as he lay, his body shaking.

To Merlin there was no way the man would have woken up, Arthur had already killed him, there was no need to continue with him where there were still bandits closing in on the rest of the knights. And Arthur would always put priority on helping his knights.

And yet, Arthur took a step forward.

His hand shook, and beneath his glove the knuckles turned white from his grip on the sword. The princes boot stepped forward and sank into the warm puddle of blood that pooled into a halo around the mans head.

“Arthur!” Merlin cried out from his space in the trees and the man took no notice.

Stepping one leg over the body, Arthur stood wide above the man, looking down at him. He gripped the handle of his sword with the other hand and it trembled. His breathe was short and the loud noise of the battle around him swallowed the sobs that escaped him. He lifted the sword high above his head. It exposed the area around his body and left his stomach and chest open for attack.

To protect the torso was the first lesson taught to all knights and at the strange movements of the prince, the rest of the knights began to look at him concerned.

Around him the battle began to grow quiet, the sounds hummed out by the thumping from his heart as he felt the blood pulsing in his thoughts. Scrunching up his eyes and letting the light drain from his mind, Arthur plunged the sword down. It dug harshly into the limp body below him and pierced through the chainmail, sending loops of chain scattering. He twisted the sword around in a circle, heaving as it got caught on the mans ribs. Bringing it up again, Arthur opened his eyes and looked down before sending the sword towards the body, it crushed the ribs and the sound of an agonising shattering rung across the battle. Breathing heavily now, Arthur placed a foot on the mans stomach, pressing his weight into it before dragging the sword out, and once again piercing it through his armour.

Merlin watched onto the fight from the edge, his eyes scanning the battle and flaming with gold as he flung bandits away from the defending knights without them noticing. His eyes caught onto Arthurs figure in the centre. His face shadowed with confusion as he watched the man heave and stab the lifeless body over and over. From the other side, Merlin saw a bandit take notice of the defenceless prince, and on the bandits shoulder, rest a sharp, gleaming, hand.

Arthurs body continued to be racked by the shaking of his arms and he slowly lifted the visor of his helmet, the daylight streaming into his eyes and he blinked heavily, the wetness in them leaking onto his face. Bringing his sword up again, ready to massacre the chest below him, Arthur watched something move within the torn flesh of the body.

The mangled chest began to twist and turn like a nest of snakes. It moved and slithered as shapes pushed up at it, attempting to break through the wounds.

Arthur stood motionless, staring down into the moving body of the dead man, and the sword slipped out his grasp, clattering onto the grass next to him.

Slowly a hand began to emerge from the inside of the man, it pushed through the mass of injury and began to reach up. Blood dripped from it, the dark red staining its snow white bones and curling around its fingers as if it was alive.

Arthur staggered backwards, unable to remove his gaze as the hand began to grip onto his leg, raising higher and higher out the body, its arm now appearing. He began to kick the thing and his attempts to scream were met with silence as no noise came from his mouth. Unnoticed by the prince, the bandit began to run towards him, his sword raised high and a loud cry emerging from his lips.

The prince payed no attention to him as he struggled in the grasp of the white bones that were crawling up his leg.

Merlin ran into the fight, his mouth beginning to form the words of magic as the bandit got closer and closer to Arthur. His eyes began to flash with gold as Arthur was dragged to the floor by the hands, tripping and kicking, his face morphed into a pain Merlin had never seen before.

As the bandit got closer, Merlin’s chanting became more hurried and his eyes began to flash with a shimmering gold. The tall, shining figure behind the bandit froze. His head whipped up from his sharp gaze on the prince to stare at Merlin.

As Merlin flung the bandit backwards away from the still struggling, oblivious Arthur, the figure screamed. A noise so loud it felt as if the ground was erupting from beneath them. It rang through Merlin’s bones and his legs faltered beneath him, falling to a knee. The other knights around them were unaffected taking no notice of the servant on the ground and continued the fight, unaware of the figure that watched over it. Arthur fell backwards, a painful yell leaving his lips as the hands that were fighting the bones gripping his legs flew to cover his ears.

Merlin picked himself up as the bandit began to gather himself to his feet. He began to mutter again, spells leaving his lips. And before anybody could move towards the prince, Merlin flung all the bandits around him to the ground. Arthur still lay on the ground, his hands pressed into his ears as the hands grasped and pulled at his legs. Shutting his eyes in attempt to calm the pain rocketing through him, Merlin pulled himself to his feet and scanned the area around Arthur. The few remaining bandits were all engaged in fight with the other knights on the other end of the clearing.

Death’s scream began to quite when Merlin’s eyes fell on a struggling man on the ground behind Arthur. A bandit, who had a deep gash leaking blood from his chest, struggled to sit up and he grasped a bow in his hands. Pointing it at the prince, before the arrow could slip from his grasp, Merlin flew at him. His body tumbled into the other man and the bow clattered on to the ground. At the impact the man let out a yell as Merlin’s sword struggled out its sheath.

Before he could bring the blade down onto the man’s already massacred flesh, his body went limp and his noise quietened down. His eyes fluttering closed, Merlin pushed himself back from the body. His breathe heavy, he hauled himself to his feet and looked back at Arthur behind him.

The prince lay flat on his back, his hands limp by his head, no longer struggling against the force that crawled up his legs. Deep breath’s pushed through his chest and Merlin could hear his gasping from where he stood.

As the knights finished cutting down the last remaining bandits they began to make their way back to the pair in the middle. Merlin slowly dragged himself back to Arthur and hauled him to his feet, the prince’s shoulders shaking as he found his footing. Out of the corner of their eyes, the two saw a flash of movement, a white, glistening blur through the trees and Arthur’s head snapped round to look at it, before as quickly as it appeared, the figure was gone.

Arthur’s eyes fell back on Merlin, who stood, staring at the spot where the screaming figure stood minutes before. Merlin took a deep breathe and turned round to look at the man who was staring closely at him.

“Arthur, what…”

Before he could finish the knights arrived back with them and the loud chatter of the fight overtook him. He felt Gwaine’s hand slap his shoulder as Arthur continued to watch him, unmoving.

“Merlin!” Leon came round and grinned at him, “I see you finally caught some of the action this time.”
Merlin gave him a shakey grin.
Gwaine laughed from next to him, “you know Merlin, it almost looked as if you saved Arthur’s life.”
The knights all laughed from around him and Arthur’s face darkened.

Without looking at Merlin again, Arthur turned and made his way back to the horses.
“Hurry up, we need to make it by nightfall.”

As he hauled himself onto his horse, the other knights following, Arthur’s hands still shook as he gripped the reins.

***

Through his whole life, death had not treated Arthur kindly. It had no sympathy for the young royal whose life has been the birth of a plague of slaughter for many years. It hunted him down like pray and at one point or another, held the lives of everyone he cared about in its jaws.

Opening his eyes, Arthur’s vision blurred over the woods surrounding him and the tall, dark haired figure leaning over the fire at his feet.

Letting out a small cough, Arthur struggled to lift his head up.

“Merlin?”

As the sound of a voice the man looked up from the fire, a small grin spread over his face.

“Arthur!” Merlin hurried over to the struggling man. “No, no, no, you have to lay down.”

Arthur grunted as a sharp pain shot up his body, and his head fell back against the jacket rolled up beneath him. Merlin stared at him, the grin gone from his face as his brow furrowed and he bit his lip.

“Something on my face merlin?” Arthur struggled to bring a smile to his face as Merlin just blinked at him.
“Your ok Arthur.” He whispered. “Right?”
Arthur frowned up at the tall man, “Im ok.”

Taking a step back from him, Merlin’s eyes brushed down to the stained armour on Arthur’s stomach. The dark red dried thickly around it, the hole in the middle so dark it was almost black. Swallowing, he turned around and went back to the fire whilst Arthur watched him from where he lay. Lifting a small pot from the edge of the burning wood, merlin grabbed two small bowls and went to sit back down next to the other man.

Pouring the steaming liquid into one of the bowls, Arthur began to try and lift himself up before Merlin carefully pushed him back down.
“Please Arthur, lay down, I’ll do it.”
Arthur muttered a small complaint before putting his head back down.
Merlin frowned at him again, before taking his free hand and carefully resting it beneath Arthur’s head. Angling it slightly upwards, he carefully brought the hot bowl up to him, placing it gently against his lips. As he swallowed the small mouthful of stew, Arthur’s eyes screwed shut and he let out a small groan as the movement racked his body.

Merlin placed the bowl down on the ground and steadied the king whose face was contorted with pain. Arthur took a deep breathe and his face relaxed slightly as he looked back up at Merlin.

“Merlin, I…” he took another sharp breathe, “I cant do it Merlin.”
The man set next to him gave him a pleading look.
“Please Arthur, you have to eat, your body needs it. Please”
The kings eyes began to flutter shut as his breathe shook again.
“Later Merlin. Later”

As Arthur passed out again Merlin pushed himself back from the man. He picked up the pot and placed it back near the fire, keeping it worm. Taking some of the leftover food from the bags, merlin made his way over to the horse that was stood by the trees. Holding the food out for him, merlin looked back at the sleeping man on the ground, his body still as the only movement came from his shaking breathes.

Up over the king, Merlin’s eyes brushed over the dark shadow of a figure stood carefully in the trees in the distance. Merlin’s heart jumped, the food tumbling from his hand as he ran back to other, picking up his sword. Looking back up at it, the sword held high, the figure was no where to be seen.

Below him, Arthur groaned as his eyes darted about beneath his eyelids. Merlin crouched down next to him, resting his hand on the royals forehead, feeling it’s freezing cold touch. Drawing his hand back as if he was about to bite, merlin shook the king, attempting to wake him.

“Arthur!”

A small moan escaped Arthur’s lips.

“Arthur please, I need you to wake up.”

He shook his shoulders more harshly, as Arthur’s breathing grew shallow.

“Arthur, please” a small sob escaped from Merlin as he gripped Arthur tightly, as he began to shake.

“Merlin.” A small whisper came from Arthur as he continued to groan in pain, his body being racked with shakes.

“Shhh, no it’s ok, just wake up.”

Merlin’s mind raced, looking around him for another blanket to wrap over the prince, he spotted it hanging out the small bag by the horse. Not wanting to step away from Arthur who was still drifting in and out of consciousness, Merlin looked down at him. Watching his eyes stay shut, Merlin turned back to the bag and with a small mutter, sent the blanket flying towards him. The man stayed unconscious below him, as Merlin wrapped another blanket around him, trying to calm his shivers.

The shaking continued to flow through his body and Arthur let out a small cough. Looking down at the dwindling fire by his feet, Merlin cursed under his breathe before leaning in closely to the king.

“Arthur?” He did not wake, but Arthur let out a small groan in response.
“Arthur, your going to have to be closer to the fire.”

Merlin cursed under his breathe as he slowly slid his hands under Arthur, supporting his back and legs. The cold chainmail caught on his nails as Arthur let out a yell as the movement.

Merlin took a deep breathe, his eyes screwed shut as the painful yell of his friend hit his ears. Carefully wrapping his arms around Arthur, Merlin slowly lifted his body of the ground, and the groan of pain was so loud Merlin felt it shatter him.

A cry burst from Merlin as he slowly brought Arthur closer to the heat of the fire. The king’s shivering grew more violent as it shook down his body, shifting the torn flesh of his wounds.

As the wounded man lay next to the burning heat, the fire began to dwindle down, it’s leaping flames falling to sparks as a sharp wind swept through the air. Arthur began to cough, his body arching in pain at each movement, his eyes beginning to flutter open and closed.

“Merlin, I can’t… Merlin… it really hurts.”

As tears leaked from his own eyes, Merlin looked down at Arthur.

“No your ok Arthur, your ok.”

Merlin shivered as the air around him grew colder again and he looked down at the burning embers of the small fire. Arthur looked up at him, his face pale.

Slowly reaching his arm out, Arthur’s hand grasped Merlin’s with all the strength in him. At the touch, Merlin’s face collapsed into tears as he leant in close to him.

“Arthur I’m sorry, please just stay still.”
“It’s ok.”
“No stop, just stop it, I’ll get you something to help.”

Merlin pulled himself back and onto his feet, Arthur’s hand slipping out of his and back to his side.

“I’ll get you some fresh water from the stream. We need to get your body running again.”

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice was scratchy and was barely a whisper as it left his lips.

Merlin rubbed at his eyes, and picked up the small pot that sat nearby.

“No, I’ll only be a few minutes, I’ll get you some water Arthur.”

“Merlin.” His voice was softer this time, slightly louder.

“I’ll be back.”

As Merlin turned away from the man on the floor, when he heard a groan come from him. And louder than before and laced with panic, Arthur’s voice called out to him.

“Merlin? Merlin are you still there.”

“Arthur it’s ok, I’m not going after just…”

Merlin turned round and he fell silent, the blood draining from his face.

Stood over the king was a figure, and the air around him ran cold. The same horror that was on Arthurs face overcame Merlin. The figure was an elderly man, his face lined so deeply with age that his natural features underneath barely stood out from his skin. His short height seemed unnoticeable as he loomed over the man on the ground. He was dressed in layers of dark loose clothing that swayed in a wind that didnt exist. It seemed to float over his body, not making contact with his skin as it twisted and twirled. The figures head rose and his empty eyes bore into Merlin and a chill ran down his side.

Merlin dropped the pot and took the small sword out from his side and took a step towards the older man. Raising his sword at him, the man just continued to stare at him.

“Step back from the king.” Merlin called out at him, his voice wavered slightly, his brave facade cracking slightly.
The man simply blinked at him.

“I cannot do that Merlin.”

Arthur struggled to lift his head back, more groans escaping him, as he attempted to look at the man, fear in his eyes as he watched, defenceless.

“Who are you? Merlin do you know this man?”
“No”

Taking another step towards him, Merlin let his gaze drop slightly to his friend on the floor, and at the drop of eyesight the elderly man raised his hand. Before either of them could register it, Merlin was sent flying backwards, crumbling into the solid trunk of a tree and collapsing onto the ground.

“Merlin!”

Slowly lowering his hand, the figure lowered himself down next to Arthur. Unable to move, Arthurs face was overtaken by fear, his heart speeding up as his breathing shortened to gasps. The elderly man brought his hand up to the kings shoulder and steadied him. It sent instant shivers down him as it felt as if a block of ice slid down him.

“Ive been looking for you a long time now, Arthur.” The old mans voice was deep, it scratched at Arthur’s ears and left them ringing with a high pitch sound he recognised.
Unable to shake the man’s hand from his, the king just stared at him, his eyes wide.
“What do you want from me? If it’s gold I can assure I have none on me to give to you.”
The man let out a small chuckle.
“It is not your money or you riches that I wish to take from you, my lord.”
“What is it then?” Arthur’s voice grew angry as his breathe struggled with the pain from his wounds. “I have nothing on me to give you, and if it is me you want there is little hope for me to get out of here. Especially not without Merlin…” Arthur looked over at his servant again, his voice halting at him name as he looked at his limp body bent over its self on the ground.

“I do not want to take you anywhere sire, do not worry.” The mans voice stayed calm and he did not follow Arthur’s gaze over to the other man.

“Then what is it!?” His eyes began to water as he looked from the old man to the young one by the tree. “If it is me you want why must you hurt him?”

The older mans face formed a small smile, the lines of his face bending along his cheeks. “Your servant is alright, I assure you, he is merely unconscious.” He briefly looked at Merlin again.
“I do not go near that man.”

The pairs eyes locked again when the man looked back down at Arthur, the smile still tracing across his face. He slowly brought his hand up to the young mans face, his fingers rested on the side of his head. Arthurs head cringed at the touch as the ice cold fingers came in contact with him. It felt as if there was no skin left on the mans hand and Arthur could have swore the mans fingers went straight through his skin, the two men’s bones laying rest on each other. Arthurs sharp breathes fogged into the air above him as the temperature in and around him plummeted. He struggled to remove his gaze from the other mans dark eyes.

Merlins head throbbed as he struggled to open is eyes, the dark swirling with spots of light as he fell back under the darkness once again.

Arthurs body began to be overtaken with shakes yet again as he struggled to find the warmth within himself. His eyes fluttered open and closed as the movement blew the pain of his wounds through his body.
The elderly man’s eyes went soft for a brief second before the darkness over took them once more. “I am sorry my lord. I do not wish to harm you and please do not think this comes at your own fault.”
Arthur let out a grumble in pain in response.

Slowly the chilling hand began to trace along the bones of the kings face, smoothing over his jaw that was clenched in pain and running down to his neck, leaving a trail of ice in its passing. As the feeling of the burning cold met his skin, Arthur’s head began to thrash away from the contact.

The hand took place on his shoulder and the man steadied his movement, calming his breathing with only a touch.
“Please, do not panic. It will not be long before the pain resides.”

The hand skimmed over his skin and placed itself over his heart. A searing pain of touch, so cold it felt like it tore through his flesh, rushed through Arthur. It delve deep into his body, digging into his slowly beating heart and pushed its way into the smooth, warm, blood that pumped through his body, chilling it. At the touch Arthur let out a scream of agony, his back arching of the ground and his hand rushing up to grip at his chest.

Merlin felt his eyes burst open, the light flooding into him and blinding him, as the sound of terror rang in his ears. Stumbling to his feet he looked around the ground near him for the sword and spotted it metres away, the blade snapped clean in two.

Another scream erupted from Arthur and embedded itself in Merlin, as the hand began to brush over the edges of the massacred flesh of his wounds. As he howled in pain, the old man’s second hand came up onto Arthur as well and began to press into the broken skin.

Feeling tears form in his eyes Merlin gathered himself and brought his hands up, pointed at the man.

“Who are you?!” A sob escaped from him as he heard Arthur continue to yell. “What do you want from him?”

The old man smiled, “Young warlock do you really not recognise me?” His hand began creeping further down him, scratching over the layers of dried blood, drifting into the holes that littered his skin.

“Get away from him!” A ball of light erupted from Merlin’s hand before fizzling slowly to a stop before it could reach him.
With a small chuckle, the man’s eyes bore deep into Merlin, “Your magic will not work on me, no matter how hard you try.”

As Merlin struggled through spell after spell, aimed at the man, he turned his attention back onto the young king below him. Arthur’s body had gone limp, his eyes fluttering as he gasped and whined at the pressure on his wounds. Slowly the hands found themselves into the deepest mark on the kings body. The fingers, one by one, began to sink into his flesh, and Arthur screamed like never before.

Merlin struggled to get the man away from his companions body, before running up to him, his hands going on to push the old man, to remove his touch. Yet Merlin’s hands fell straight through the figures body, untouched by him.

“Please!!” Merlin grasped at Arthur this time, attempting to bring his body away from the man hurting him as his figures dug deeper into the injuries. “You have to stop this.” He chocked out a harsh sob.

Arthurs body was now void of all movement, only the smallest breathes pulsing through him as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

The man sighed and stopped the movement in his hand. “I am not here to hurt your king, Emrys. I am simply here because he calls to me. I do not choose who I visit and I do not wish to harm him either. I bring the peace that his heart so desires.”
Merlin stared at him, and he brought his arms around Arthur’s body, bringing him close. “Who- what are you?”

With a small smile, the old man’s skin began to pull back on his face. A gust of wind surrounded the group and the man’s clothing began to swirl around him as his body started to twist at impossible angles. The sound of bones clattering against each other filled the air as the figure took shape of movements not possible to anyone as Merlin watched on horrified.

As Arthur’s movement fell down to silence, the figure above him looked up at Merlin and his heart dropped. The faceless figure of bones sat there in silence before bringing himself back down to Arthur.

“Please.” Tears raced down Merlin’s face as he sat with Arthur’s limp body in his arm. “Don’t take him from me.”

It didn’t take notice of Merlin’s words.

“Please.”

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice spoke out at barely a whisper, it was horse and Merlin barely heard it.

“I’m here.” He carefully held Arthur close to his chest. “I can help you Arthur, just hold on.”

Arthur’s eyes stayed shut as a breath escaped him. “Just hold me.”

Merlin’s sobs choked through his breathes, the tired gasps echoing through the woods. Slowly the snowy white hand placed itself on Merlin’s arms, that gripped tightly to Arthur’s body. His knuckles went white as he grasped onto the body tighter.

The long white arms began wrapping themselves around Arthur, looping over and over, snaking around the cold pale skin. It slowly began to bring the body away from Merlin, who held on so tight his arms began to shake. His breathing grew more shallow as he struggled to get the air into his lungs through the heaving sobs erupting from him.

The warm pressure of Arthur’s body slowly began to move away from Merlin as the figure pulled him closer to itself. A cold weight placed itself over Merlin as Arthur slipped from his fingers.

The figure glistened under the fire light as he placed Arthur lightly on the ground, it’s sharp fingers cradling his head as it rested on the grass. Merlin sat still as he watched, the rivers of his tears mapping out his face and carving through his cheeks. His hand reached out over Arthur and carefully slipped his fingers into his hand.

Slowly the figure leaned in close to Arthur, it’s head pressed closely to his chest and his hand trailed over his body, sketching over the wounds that littered his armour. It pressed in closely to him and gripped him tightly, and death caressed carefully over him. As a final chill blew through the air, the dark figure moved up, it’s featureless face looking into Merlin. It rested its hand lightly on the tear stained cheek of the young man before a sharp wind blew through the air and Merlin shut his eyes.

When they reopened and the light flooded into Merlin’s sight, the figure was gone and slowly the heat of the fire made its way back into the air.

And Arthur’s body lay still, peace settling over him.