Dark Merlin: The Man Called Emrys

III

"MERLIN?"

He heard the unmistakable voice in the back of his mind along with a jolt on the shoulder, but it couldn't be calling to him. That wasn't his name. Merlin? This fool had mistaken him for someone else.

His eyes opened and adjusted to the blinding sun, and Emrys found himself looking up into the blue, clouded sky. Someone towered over him but the silhouette was dark as they leaned in front of the sun and he couldn't make out their face through his blurred vision. Only the sound of his voice made Emrys able to guess. Blinking a few times cleared his fog and he saw the man hovering over him distinctly.

Careful not to give a look of disgust, he rolled himself up into a seated position. His whole body ached but especially his head. He raised a hand to his temple and felt a warm liquid slowly trickle down his cheek. Pulling his hand away, he found his fingertip painted in crimson and he chuckled inwardly. That fool. He has to be the most accident-prone guy I know. Lucky me.

"Merlin, are you alright?"

He looked up into the face of Arthur Pendragon; the man he desperately wanted to kill. Playing off a cheesy smile, he said, "Yeah, sorry. Guess I'm just clumsy." He imitated climbing to his feet acting like it was hard.

"Take it easy," Arthur said, wrapping his burly hand around Emrys's bicep. "I was probably a little too rough on you for your first day back. Maybe you should call it quits. I can find another man."

Arthur hoisted Emrys to his feet, but Emrys's blood boiled from his touch. "No, no!" He pulled away from Arthur. "I'm fine. This is exactly what I need to be doing to get my mind off things." He picked up the sword that lay beside him in the grass and snickered. "You beating me up keeps my mind off of ... what Morgana did to me." He lowered his gaze to the grass pretending like his words brought back painful memories, when in reality, to him, it brought joyous ones. What happened to him and Merlin was exactly what he needed to obtain his freedom. For too long he had been stuck on the sideline, but now, with how weak Merlin was, it made him in control more then he'd ever been before.

He looked back up at Arthur trying to conceal a smile. "Let's try again. I'll be more careful this time."

Arthur reached for his sword that was sticking from the ground and gripped the hilt loosely in his grasp. "Alright, but only if you're sure?"

Smiling, Emrys nodded. "Absolutely, Sire. The fresh air is doing me good."

Arthur sprang the tip of his sword free from the dirt. "Well, put some back into it this time. Don't let me knock you down so easily."

Emrys aimed his sword at Arthur's chest. "I'll try my best, Sire." Merlin had never mastered the art of the sword. He relied too much on his magic, but Emrys ... Morgana had taught him everything she knew, and he was waiting for the right moment when he could finally put his swordsmanship to practice. Morgana was always better at fighting then Arthur was anyway.

In a flash, Emrys lunged for the unprotected chainmail under Arthur's arm. It was one of the places he had been taught to aim for during a fight—one of the weak spots in an opponents armor.

Arthur's sword flew in front of him, clanging against Emrys's as it blocked his thrust. Arthur gave a look of puzzlement before swiping the sword to the side. With a twist, he swung his sword at Emrys's chest plate, but Emrys sprung back to avoid the blow.

Staring face to face with Arthur, Emrys could tell by the Prince's expression that he was surprised by the way Emrys moved. It was a wonder how Arthur was good at all with the sword with Merlin for a partner.

Arthur advanced, but Emrys twirled to the side out of the way of his attack. Quickly taking the advantage, Emrys rammed into Arthur from the side sending the Prince crashing to the ground.