[✔] Sides (a merthur soulmate au fanfiction)

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Not BBC, Johnny Capps, Julian Murphy. Arthur and Merlin are soulmates, no one can convince me otherwise.

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Chapter 3

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"Arthur, behind you!"

Arthur pivoted on his right foot as soon as he heard the warning, squatting as he did so and spread out his left leg to send the person attacking from behind him falling from loss of footing. He barely had the time to swing his sword and slash at the person's abdomen, aiming to heavily wound him but not to entirely kill him, when he saw yet another Saxon charging from his side and he had to bring up his sword to hold his blow.

It was supposed to be a safe trip back to Camelot that day. They had sent scouts ahead and they had sent words back that the path they would take would be safe. No one knew they would be crossing this part of the forest. Arthur simply didn't have any idea how these Saxons could possibly know where and when to strike them.

On the other side of the fight, he saw Merlin standing his grounds with a sword rather impressively, considering how clumsy he was to even balance a stack of books on his hands. He was fighting rather uniquely though, sidestepping slopes that came down when stepped by the Saxons and ducking beneath swung axes that miraculously struck his attacker. He wasn't striking with his sword much, but rather leaving the work to the panicked horses which bridles strangely found its way to snake around the feet of the Saxons. Arthur frowned– how is he doing that?

An approaching sound of a galloping horse shook him from his stupor and Arthur had just enough time to parry the blow, sending the rider down with him. The skirmish continued as Arthur took down several more men but then he heard a distant sound of horse hooves– a lot of them, and closing in on them. The Saxons had sent more men.

"Retreat!" Arthur hollered as he pulled out his sword from his opponent, drawing blood with it.

Arrows started to fly around them, and Arthur just had enough time to duck and slide down the nearest sloping ground away from the arrows. It would take less than several seconds before the archers reached them and the slope provided them no more protection. Most of his men had already followed his lead, going to the lower grounds and seizing any horse they could find, but he couldn't see Merlin anywhere.

"Merlin!" he called out amidst the loud cry of the Saxons advancing on them and horses thumping their hooves in a gallop all around him. No reply.

"Retreat!" he shouted. "Leon, lead them south!"

Sir Leon, the left side of his curly hair catching dry leaves as he slid down the sloping ground, pulled himself up. "But, Sire, I'm not leaving you!"

Arthur growled in frustration– the rest of his men were already retreating but they didn't know where to run. He couldn't afford to lose this many men or having a debate with his fellow knight. "Just do as I said!"

But before either of them could say anything, Arthur heard Merlin's familiar shout from the higher grounds. He turned around so quickly his neck hurt, but he didn't feel it, because Merlin was now sliding down the slope, his stomach on the ground, and an arrow was stuck on his shoulder blade.

"Merlin!"

In less than a fraction of a second Arthur was already sprinting to Merlin's side, his right arm snaking under his unwounded shoulder and pulled him to his feet. At the movement, Merlin screamed in pain, followed by him looking like he was trying his best not to convulse, so Arthur had no choice but to pull out the arrow from his shoulder. Right now the arrow was preventing most of the blood from flowing out–to pull it out, the blood loss alone could lead to unconsciousness–but Arthur had seen something like this in his previous fights. The tip of the arrow had been dipped with mild poison– the longer the arrow had contact with the flesh, the more the poison would enter the body. Arthur was just thankful they were facing the Saxons now, considering they still make their arrows without heads, and so pulling it out didn't require any surgical precision.