Boy From The Woods

I Don't Hurt You

Arthur wasn't expecting to wake up. So when he did, he couldn't stop himself from wondering if everything he thought transpired had just been a terrible dream. Not only did he seem to be alive, but as he began to move his body nothing felt broken or bruised. Had he survived that fall with not even a scratch? He heard Morgana's voice.

"He's awake!" Her worried face appeared above him followed by Gwen's. He sat up using his elbows, squinting his eyes against the beating sun. 

"Wha- what happened?"

"You passed out, Sire," Gwen answered, sending a sly look in Morgana's direction. 

Arthur looked around. He was on ground bedded in fallen pine needles. To his left was a steep cliff face whose base was decorated in sharp rocks. He gestured towards the large land mark, a confused expression on his face. 

"We fell? I remember falling."

"Ummm..." Morgana fidgeted nervously. "We... we did-"

"It wasn't fatal," Gwen added with a false chipper tone.

Arthur looked back to the drop. "You can't be serious." His eyes scanned the rest of their surroundings, searching for some sort of explanation that made sense. His gaze landed on the boy, Merlin, who sat a little ways away against a tall pine, his arms wrapped protectively around his legs. He stared back at the prince with an unwavering concentration. Arthur wracked his brain, trying to recall the events of the previous night in detail. He remembered their mad dash, how time seemed to slow around them. Rain drops had hovered in the air as they ran through the still wind. Again he stared at the boy. He stood suddenly, moving protectively in front of Morgana and Gwen. 

"Arthur!" Morgana protested. "What are you doing?"

"He used Magic! Didn't he? He slowed the rain and stopped our fall!"

Morgana wiggled free from Arthur's grasp and stood between Arthur and the boy. "Arthur, please," she gave him an imploring look. "I was apprehensive at first too, but only at first. He saved our lives."

"He's also the one who put our lives in danger!" He shot back. 

"Not on purpose!"

"Morgana, all sorcerers are dangerous! Magic corrupts!"

"Do you honestly believe that? Look at him," she said as she gestured to Merlin who still sat beneath the tree. "He doesn't mean any harm."

"How can you possible be sure?"

"Arthur, you just have to trust me because... because I know. I have a feeling!"

"When it comes to magic, we can't simply rely on your fleeting feelings." 

Their debate was interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps behind them. Merlin approached cautiously. 

"Morgana?" he asked. 

"Yes."

He held out his hand. Inside was a tiny lump of delicate brown. "What is this?"

She pursed her lips and looked at him sadly. "Why, Merlin, that's a flower. It's a little brown though. It's past its prime. Have you really never seen a flower before?"

Merlin shook his head. He gave the withered flower a strange look. Colour began to return to the plant. First, green seeped into the small stem as the brown dusty petals returned to a vibrant shade of pink. Small tufts of yellow bloomed from the center. He let out a silent sigh. Merlin's expression was quite hard to describe, somewhere between sadness and wonder. He held out the flower in Arthur's direction.