Merlyn's Last Dream

The Castle Of Fyrien P3

Footsteps. Of course there were fucking footsteps. Now Arthur really wasn't a genius, but that, he was sure, was the clamouring sound of Merlyn being right.

"Quiet." he hissed, as if everyone wasn't standing silently behind him. He looked around, hoping for an escape route. "Quick. This way."

He started to head back, only to hear more steps coming towards him. Wincing inwardly, he realised they'd been cut off, that they had no way to flee.

"We're trapped." he cursed, refusing to face the people he'd lead here, brought to their own destruction. This was his fault; he'd be damned if they paid for his mistake.

Behind him, he heard Merlyn draw her sword. It was good to know that she hadn't given up just yet.

"How did they know we were here?" she murmured warily. Arthur already knew that her gaze would be fixed on Morgana, seeing as, according to his servant, all minor grievances were apparently her fault.

"It was probably my scream. I'm sorry." Gwen gushed, but the others ignored her, focusing on the seemingly hundreds of men who had come into view.

Arthur could hear the sound of clashing steel behind him, but concentrated on the men charging in his direction, cutting through each soldier like they were nothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Merlyn battling against several mercenaries, her torch in one hand and her sword in the other, Gwen at her side whilst Morgana cut through her fair share of Cenred's men. The four of them fought well together, blades slicing through evil, weapons of angelic destruction. Unfortunately, they couldn't sustain this forever and with the constant stream of soldiers pouring into the caves, the Prince could only thank the narrow tunnels for the fact that they hadn't been instantly overwhelmed. However, only moments after the thought crossed his mind, Gwen's shriek echoed through the labyrinth, causing Arthur to turn, flinching at the sight of the maidservant with a sword to her throat. Reluctantly, he threw his sword to the floor, Merlyn and Morgana quickly following suit, only for them to be shoved mercilessly up to the castle, prisoners to a sordid king.

Arthur had said he was willing to bet his life that Cenred didn't know about the tunnels. Now, he felt that he may have done exactly that.

~

The Prince, the Ward and two servants were thrown at Cenred's feet and, Merlyn had to admit, she appreciated the dramatic effect. Well, she'd rather be holding a knife to the King's throat, but still, it was nice to know that theatricality wasn't dead. Uther would never bother with this belittling, this humiliating. He was a man of action and would much rather see heads roll than bathe in his own sense of glory, but then, she supposed, if Cenred was like that, they would all probably already be dead. Other than Morgana, obviously, but the servant wasn't really a fan of the whole dying thing. She would much rather Cenred gloated for long enough for them to devise an escape plan: that way, they might just about survive.

"Well, well, Arthur Pendragon. How kind of you to pay me a visit." Cenred sneered, smirking as he looked down the line of prisoners. "And look, you brought some friends with you."

He moved down the line, chuckling to himself, pausing for a moment in front of Merlyn. She raised an eyebrow challengingly, but the King didn't take the bait. It was a shame really: if she were to die in this dingy castle, she'd much rather insult this prick first.

Instead, he turned to the woman beside her. "Oh, the Lady Morgana no less." He crouched, reaching his hand out to touch her face, but the Ward jerked away.

"Don't so much as breathe on me, you pig." she spat rather convincingly. If Merlyn hadn't seen her turn her head and smirk at Morgause, who was hiding outside the throne room, likely trying not to be associated with Cenred and his scum, the servant might have almost believed her.