Worth The Risk

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur ran as fast as his legs could carry him, though the threat was no longer as imminent as it had been before. They had gain great advantage after the leap from one side to the other, hindering the others ability to follow. Including Mordred. Arthur was unsure how he felt about seeing the druid again. He had never thought him a criminal, hence the reason he aided in his escape from the dungeons. But at the same time, now, he did not prove to be a friend either. Yet even still, Arthur could not bring himself to fire the arrow that would claim his life. The others he killed without hesitation but . . . there was something about Mordred that prevented him from firing. And he only hoped he would not regret that decision. If anything, he hoped Mordred regarded that as an act that demonstrated Arthur's willingness to create some sort of informal truce between them.

But he did not dwell on it, nor was that the reason he did not kill him. Mordred would not have jumped, and made no attempt to. Arthur would not kill him in cold blood. Yes. That was his running excuse. It was a better explanation than the one of a strong feeling that kept him from firing. He began to slow his pace, before stopping all together and looking behind him just to be absolutely certain that they were not followed. Then he turned his attentions to Merlin. "It will be dark soon. We should rest here for a little while to regain our energy." For they would indeed need it when finding a way to sneak into the fortress of Ismere. It was an extremely risky venture, however Arthur could not leave his men.

They were his brothers of heart and he knew that if the situation were reversed, they would come for him. It was why he would not consider even for a moment to turn around, despite their odds as they were split from the others. He only hoped that Elyan, Leon and the others made it safely back to Camelot. "Maybe if we're lucky, we'll find something to eat as well," Arthur added. Though with the abundance of snow, wildlife would be scarce. Still, there could be something lurking about and they did have a crossbow should opportunity present itself. He and Merlin had both gone some time without food in the past, so it was indeed doable should they not be fortunate to find something. Besides, it would not be the hunger that killed them: it would be either the cold or Morgana herself.

_{Setting: On the way to Ismere
Time of Day: Late Afternoon/Evening
Timeline: During Arthur's Bane II
Tag: Merlin}

[merlinus]

Merlin followed his King, adrenaline and shock still rushing through his veins. He was still shocked from the vision he had seen; that horrible, terrible vision, and now they had run into the source of it. Mordred. After all these years; here! This could not be a coincidence - Mordred must have sought them out. The young warlock still remembered the cold promise that the child druid had made him; promising neither to forgive nor to forget the minute Merlin chose his side.

Now it looked as though Arthur would suffer for Merlin's kindness. Arthur, who the man had struggled to protect for so long -Arthur, who had so exceeded the expectations of his people, and led Camelot thus far with a just hand. Even now, he had allowed Mordred to live. Merlin wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. He had managed to cut off Mordred's escape, but he could have done no more than that given the situation. Arthur had had control - and he had let him live. With a flash of anger and desperation, the warlock turned to his best friend, panic making him talk honestly, not caring what Arthur thought of him, not caring if the King saw him in a different light afterwards.

"Why didn't you kill him?!" he demanded, his eyes narrowed, his gaze accusing. "You had the chance, Arthur! You should have taken it."

He should have been perhaps more focused on finding the Knights, on helping Arthur complete this quest and bringing back the Knights, and their friends, and up until the second Mordred practically flounced into their lives, he had done. But now, now everything was changed. Mordred was alive, not so very behind them, and needed to die. No matter what, Merlin would make sure that would happen. For Arthur's sake.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"Why didn't you kill him?!" Arthur looked at Merlin when he questioned his actions -- or inactions perhaps. And he wasn't sure what was more surprising: the words themselves or the tone in which they were spoken. While Arthur wasn't offended, it was a bit unexpected for Merlin to be so keen for Arthur to kill someone. Especially a druid boy that he'd saved in Camelot and helped escape the dungeons. But if there was anyone who Arthur accepted questioning over his judgment and decisions, it was Guinevère, Gaius, and Merlin -- even if sometimes he suggested otherwise. He was open to advice yet it was these three people who's advice he valued the most. Merlin then went on to tell him that he should have taken the chance, and Arthur casually looked around once more, mentally formulating a response.

"There was no need to kill him Merlin. He wasn't about to make the jump and therefore, was no threat to us." He would have been shooting an unarmed man for no immediate reason. "Contrary to what you may believe, I don't actually like killing people," he said in a bit of a tease. While the words were true, their true purpose was to distract the conversation from killing or not killing Mordred. For as he had previously established, he couldn't quite explain what that strange force or feeling was that kept him from firing the arrow. "Now why don't you do something useful and see if you can start a fire." With the very limited resources they had right now.

[merlinus]

Merlin wasn't able to ignore the look his King gave him, but likewise, he couldn't apologise for his own emotions. He was still in deep shock from all that the vision had shown him, and he was desperate to avoid any truth of the vision. He narrowed his eyes at the man, shaking his head, ignoring the way his hands trembled slightly. "there was every need!" the warlock snapped back, for once not caring about etiquette or speaking to Arthur with respect - no, this wasn't about the Pendragon, but about Mordred. He shook his head again. "You should have killed him; nevermind how you felt about it!"

He only hoped that Arthur woudln't probe too deeply into why Merlin wanted Mordred out of the way and gone; he knew it was against his natural inclanation; but... surely Arthur would recognise that there was a reason, a rhyme for why he was acting like this? "Clotpole." he muttered, narrowing his eyes at his master before looking around, trying to see if he could light a fire - without using magic.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur slightly raised his eyebrow, looking at Merlin and wondering why he was so eager to kill Mordred. Ignoring his friend's tone, he was more curious as to why Merlin suddenly wanted to see the druid boy dead. "I'm not going to needlessly kill a man who is no threat to us." Because that was the difference between being a warrior and fighting to protect yourself . . . and murder, killing someone in cold blood. Granted, Mordred had been one of the men who had held them captive, but still. In that moment, he could not hurt them. And Arthur only prayed that he would not regret that decision. "Its not as easy as you think Merlin, taking a man's life." While Merlin had occasionally fought in battle -- mostly attacks they faced on the road and then of course in Ealdor -- he was not a trained warrior.

Despite his massive improvement with a sword compared to when Arthur first met him. When he heard Merlin mumble clotpole, Arthur gave looked at him, though Merlin's gaze was busy searching for the items that they needed to start a fire. Taking advantage of Merlin being distracted, Arthur scooped up some snow in his hand to create a small ball and threw it at Merlin's face. It was his payback for being called a clotpole, but also . . . attempting to lighten the mood and help ease whatever was troubling Merlin. For this entire journey, his mind seemed preoccupied, more than usual. And Arthur still wasn't entirely sure what it was. So with his small act of revenge, Arthur then just gave a smug grin, not letting the cold or dangerous mission ahead phase his mood.

[merlinus]

The warlock almost laughed at the lack of balance his friend seemed to assume him with; he wondered just how clueless the King really thought Merlin was. He knew what it was like to kill, had killed before - to protect Arthur, nothing more and nothing less - but in that duty, he had killed, and though the stains of blood still felt infinite on his fingers, he had come to rest with it.

"Sometimes the act of killing is a penance in in itself," he murmured softly, wondering if Arthur would even hear him. The shock of the vision he had been granted hadn't yet worn off, and the boy doubted it ever would. But if Arthur woudln't kill Mordred, then Merlin would have to; it was that simple. Feeling a cold fire in the pit of his stomach, the dragon Lord wondered just when he'd become so cold hearted, and shook the thought off. He wasn't cold hearted he was just trying to protect Arthur - Arthur and Albion. There was nothing wrong with -- his thoughts trailed off as the young man gasped in shock at the snow thrown at him. Whipping his head around to glare at his smirking master, Merlin raised an eyebrow, giving the king an overly, sarcastic, sweetened smile, before reaching down and gathering a ball of the white stuff together, waiting until Arthur's back was turned until he aimed, and threw, the ball of snow, smirking slightly.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Merlin's words rung in Arthur's mind, though his response was silence. He couldn't kill a defenseless man like that. He'd once done so with Caerleon and came to regret it. How could he just shoot Mordred like that, when the boy was clearly no threat. And that was exactly what he was . . . a boy. Well, perhaps now better described as a young man. Arthur only prayed that he would not regret his decision . . . though he also knew that he most certainly would have been filled with regret had he done what Merlin suggested to him. Merlin's words were often wise, yet these ones, Arthur had to strongly disagree with. Lost in thought, he hadn't even heard or noticed Merlin collecting snow, until Arthur felt something hit him in the back. He paused, before slowly turning around, glaring at Merlin.

"You just struck the king of Camelot!" He accused, knowing that he only threw his title like that when it was convenient. He seldom -- if ever -- actually threatened Merlin with his position as king. Though he did often give him a list of endless chores as he was his servant. But really, was that the same thing? Quite honestly, Arthur was glad that Merlin's mood had seemed to lighten a bit. He had seemed so much more quiet and reserved than usual. Ever since they had embarked on this journey. Arthur wondered if something was troubling him or if he was just worried for the knights like Arthur was. After all, Gwaine and Percival were Merlin's close friends too. Arthur reached for a pile of snow, but instead of throwing it at Merlin -- considering that Merlin's reflexes were quite advanced after all the practice Arthur gave him -- he marched toward Merlin, and smothered the snow right onto Merlin's face. Whether Merlin could see or not, Arthur was smirking, clearly quite proud of himself.

[merlinus]

"Yes," retaliated Merlin, clearly relieved for the lightheartedness of the situation, taking full advantage whilst he could. Normally, he would never even dare do things like this... but if Arthur were the one starting it, well.... without being too childish, who was he to argue? "Only because I was told by a ... somewhat wise man..." The warlock eyed his best friend, knowing very well it was Arthur he was quoting. "That a man should never let an attack go unheeded." The bizzare urge to stick his tongue out had suddenly crossed the young warlock's mind, and he pushed it aside, a little disgusted at himself for taking the severity out of the issue.

However, the thought was quite stopped in its tracks as Arthur stepped forward, and smothered the young man's face with snow. Merlin spluttered - half in indignation, and half because of the shock of the cold, and he narrowed his eyes at the young King. Admittedly, he wasn't quite sure how he could retaliate, but... well, - oh, to hell with it! The young warlock started forward, scooping some snow from the ground and dumping it on Arthur's head, watching the King warily for a reaction, knowing at some point he'd pay for this.