Destiny's Chains || A Merlin Fanfiction

Chapter Three

***

The knights had been travelling for a full day now, and concern was beginning to grow on them. There had been no sign of the sorcerer, and they'd have to make camp soon. They'd be exposed in the raw moonlight, and if the sorcerer were to attack them when they were tired, they'd be overwhelmed spectacularly easily. It soon got too dark, however, and they had no choice but to make camp.

Friendly chatter erupted soon after a fire was started, a weak attempt at raising the morale. The sense of restlessness seemed to taint any sense of relaxation and ease. Merlin felt it even more greatly than he perhaps would have done before - the image of Arthur's piercing would forever tarnish his mind, and he was very cautious of Mordred. He tried desperately not to visibly show it, but hiding it was not an easy task. He was fortunate enough to not be noticed for now, but he didn't know how long his luck would last.

Soon, bowls were passed round of stew. Everyone was quiet while they ate, hunger drowning their appetite for conversation. Merlin was a reasonable chef - the food tasted fresh, even if it was from their stores of vegetables. The slightly thin liquid added an extra bit of zest.

Soon, chatter resumed, but more muted this time. Arthur was quietly alert, looking round from time to time. Gwaine was trying to convince the others to once more make fun of someone else, not just him. Merlin was cleaning up, and Mordred was talking about battle strategies with Percival. Fei helped Merlin gather up the bowls, before heading off to feed the horses.

The night was quite uneventful, surprisingly enough. There was a night shift set up in groups of two, always surveying the area. Merlin and Fei were both put on with a knight, just in case. It soon reached Fei's turn, and she was pleased to be paired with Mordred. They were about 20 minutes into their shift when Fei shivered ever so slightly, but the look in her eyes showed a deeper meaning to it.

"Are you alright?"

She looked up, dazed. She nodded, smiling, but it was only superficial. She pulled her cloak tighter around her, relaxing her breathing a bit more.

"I'm okay - I'm just not a big fan of the cold."

"Would you like my cloak? You should be warmer then."

She shook her head, and he noticed a sincerity in her eyes. How cold it was didn't seem to be the problem - it was the idea of the cold. Still, they were both tired, and their thoughts seemed to be ever fleeting. He didn't realise how much a cold breeze really impacted her, but if he did, perhaps he would have comforted her more.

***

Soon, the knights noticed a campfire. It was still warm. Arthur looked around cautiously, but no one was nearby.

"Search the area."

The knights dismounted, spreading out. Fei and Merlin stayed behind, guarding the horses. They both had a sword equipped, prepared to fight if necessary. About ten minutes had passed, before the knights returned. Arthur seemed to be bearing some kind of golden coin. Fei looked upon them in concern.

"Did you find the sorcerer?"

Leon answered, a sense of unease in his voice. She guessed they had found the sorcerer - but something had gone wrong.

"Yes... he's dead."

She sighed, bowing her head. A sense of heaviness rested on all their shoulders, and now they realised just how tired they were. They made camp once more, preparing to head back soon. The body was buried, which took longer than they thought it would. Everyone soon settled down for the night, but the chatter was much more sedated. Soon, everyone was resting. Fei and Gwaine were on a shift in the deep of the night. Mordred was disturbed by a quiet crack of a twig, and sat up.

"Is everything okay? Where's she going?"

Gwaine turned to Mordred, nodding. They both looked half asleep. Mordred anticipated more than just a nod, and knee Gwaine as the talkative one was one to give it.

"She's gone back to the body."

"Of the sorcerer? Why?"

The mere thought of the corpse in the night sent a shiver down his spine. The lifeless eyes still bore into his soul - no matter how many bodies you see, they never get less impactful.

"She usually leaves flowers at the site of death. A bit of honour I suppose."

Mordred nodded, before freezing. The small tomb built by himself and Merlin was over there. He just had to hope she didn't see it, or thought it was unrelated.

In the morning, he subtly walked over to the burial site. There, where the memorial stones had been placed, was a delicate arrangement of flowers. There were lots of different varieties and colours - she must have wandered quite a bit to find them. He left the place with a smile on his face - he may have died a sorcerer, an enemy of Camelot...but in death he found peace and dignity.