Like two strangers turning into dust
'til my hand shook the way I fear
I could possibly be fading
Or have something more to gain
I could feel myself growing colder

As they were thrown into the midst of a battle, Arthur, Thalia, Merlin and the Knights of Camelot, prepared themselves to what would most likely be their end as dozens of Mordred’s men surrounded them, outnumbered by many. Moments of silence passed, and Mordred stepped through the shield of soldiers, feet away from where Arthur stood.

“Surrender, and you can all keep your lives,” Mordred spoke then. “I do not wish to make a bloodbath of you.”

“So that we may live in agony as your prisoners?” Arthur questioned sharply, his eyes turning back on the man half his age before him. 

Taking in a breath, Arthur looked to Merlin, his most trusted adviser and friend, both of them sharing a knowing look. And then Arthur looked to his wife, his stubborn, strong, beautiful wife and Thalia looked back at him with all the love and support in the world, her hands tightening around her daggers. ”Camelot and all those in it will go down in a blaze of glory before they ever surrender.”

“So be it,” Mordred stated simply, retreating to the back of the crowd, his hand waving in the air, and seconds later they charged. Sounds of clashing weapons filled the room. Thalia threw herself back as a sword came down just in front of her and brought her arms up struggling, blades against blade, but managing a hand free she drew her dagger across his neck, kicking him to the floor.

Turning her head, she saw a flash of light as Merlin threw several of Mordred’s men into the stone pillars behind them, and she looked again finding Arthur locking in a fight with another. A sharp pain seared through her arm as the edge of a sword raked at her arm, and she cried out spinning and ducking bringing her knee up into the man’s gut, and then grabbing hold of the hilt of his sword bringing her elbow into his face.

One of Thalia’s daggers fell to the floor as she was rammed and thrown sideways, hitting the stone below, looking up as the point of a sword came towards her she threw up her one dagger and used all of her strength to push it aside enough to allow her a cavity of space to escape. Back on her feet a moment later, Thalia threw her free hand up grabbing his neck, time slowing down momentarily allowing her just the right amount of time to confess him. With black eyes the soldier turned instantaneously on his comrades, fighting alongside the Queen, who was fighting every fiber of fatigue that began to settle.

As Thalia looked around then, she noticed more and more red capes standing out in the mess of people, it seemed as if they were winning, but she didn’t want to give herself false hope, by the looks of it, Mordred was still alive and untouched.

Duel after duel, Thalia fought, she fought for her life, she fought for Arthur, and she fought for Aurelia, it was all for her, her precious little girl, who knew nothing of bloodshed and vicious battles.

Few were left standing, only a handful of Mordred’s men and even less for Camelot’s, but it was enough still.

“I must say I underestimated you,” Mordred spoke then, walking across the bodies scattered amongst the floor, coming to a stop feet away from Arthur, who stood bloody and sweating and almost out of air. Mordred however, took no notice of the silence that had fallen and without a word he attacked, Arthur’s reflexes too fast for him as he struck back.

Thalia turned her head as she heard the cry of a soldier, seeing a man running towards her, sword aimed at her and she ducked out of the way, coming up behind him and ramming her remaining dagger through his back. Merlin was out of the way trying to regain most of his strength, too many spells had made him weary, and Thalia noticed a soldier sneaking up on him and she threw her last dagger, where it embedded itself in the man’s chest.

Grabbing the sword of a fallen soldier, Thalia drove it right through the stomach of another man and watched him fall.

A feeling of dread rose inside of her as she heard a cry of pain and she turned seeing the pointed end of a sword piercing through Arthur’s back, causing him to fall to his knees.

“NO.” Thalia’s anguished screech carried through the room, she could feel her heart stop beating as the blood began to pool around him. Her breathing grew heavy, and her body began to tremble as her blood burned inside of her, and as if a torch had been lit, her eyes turned the deepest color of blood. Turning her head, looking inhuman, three of Mordred’s men advanced on the Queen then, planning to make it a double killing, but instead she put up her hand confessing each of them without a single touch.

“Kill each other!” She commanded, her voice sounding gravelly and unlike herself, and she turned her sadistic glare on two more of Mordred’s men who were backing away slowly, seeing what had happened to their friends, but two of the Knights came up putting their swords through them. Thalia’s sights set now on Mordred, who was kneeling in front of Arthur, the worst kind of expression written across his face.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Arthur raise his sword, and with his remaining strength he thrust it straight into Mordred. The look on the younger man’s face fell as he realized what had just happened. Thalia, however, was torn from the moment as Gwaine yanked her aside, pinning her arms to her sides.

“Thalia,” he snapped, having been well versed for situations like this, he was the knight she trusted most (simply because she entrusted her best friend’s heart to him). “You need to come out of this!” His face was determined and fierce, but also gentle in the way that was necessary. “Come on, Thalia,” he continued.

Thalia stared wide eyed at him, taking a few moments for the gears to turn in her head and just as suddenly as it’d come, the red drained from her eyes and she fell to the floor, Gwaine catching her just in time and setting her down.

Out of breath, Thalia shook her head, “no,” she told Gwaine. “No, make sure Arthur, help him,” she insisted, she would come out of this, she didn’t know, however, if Arthur would.

“Merlin is with him,” Gwaine replied. “And on the contrary, I am sure his Magesty would have me thrown to the wildeoren if I didn’t make sure you were well.”

Thalia was fighting against the fatigue she felt once again, and looked around Gwaine trying to see Arthur. Merlin was kneeling over him, deep in concentration. Despite how tired she felt, she pushed herself onto her knees and crawled across the floor, ignoring Gwaine’s offer to help her walk.

Stopping for a moment, Thalia stared at Mordred’s dead body, Excalibur still justting out from his chest, but she didn’t linger for long. Moving up beside Arthur, she held back the sharp pain in her chest from seeing him like this.

As if he’d sensed her presence, Arthur’s hand stretched out weakly across the floor, and Thalia looked at him, the tears filling her eyes then. Closing her hand over his, he opened his eyes slightly, looking at her, he gave her a strangled smile, as if he were trying to reassure her that everything was fine, as he always tried to do.

Tightening her hold on Arthur’s hand, Thalia looked up to Merlin, who was sitting up now, her face stained with blood and sweat and tears. “Can you save him?” She croaked, choking on a sob.

  1. ordinaryfairytale posted this