This is just a short 2-chapter fic that actually came to me in the form of a dream. I was rather inspired by it, so I decided to write it down. Warning: there's no beginning or end - just the juicy middle. I sort of jumped to the whump. Here goes...

Title: Consequences

Chapter 1: Merlin Missing

The sound of hooves pounding against the earth in great speed was heard throughout the stillness of the forest. Prince Arthur had never pushed his white stallion Llamrei at so hard a pace. His warhorse was already exhausted from a day without rest and needed desperately to be watered. Galloping ahead, Arthur distanced his knights by a league, making it quite difficult, yet not totally impossible, for the knights trailing behind to follow him in the darkness of the night. Arthur's red cape embroidered with the Pendragon crest billowed against his shoulders as he rode deeper into the woods. The weight of his chainmail grew cumbersome against his body, as was his noble sword. But he ignored his aches and weariness. His determination was relentless and it showed in his hardened eyes. Arthur knew he couldn't rest until he knew Merlin was alive. Arthur took the blame for putting Merlin's life in danger. He truly felt it was his fault. He practically sent Merlin to die. He would never forgive himself. Right then, he only hoped he wasn't too late.

Arthur and the knights rode quickly past the abandoned village surrounding the foot of Anthrop Castle. The pungent smell of burnt wood, burnt homes, and burnt flesh polluted the acrid air. Through the smoky haze and glowing embers, Arthur saw the ruined silhouettes of demolished homes and store fronts. Bright orange flames were still shooting through some of the roofs, crackling and popping as it hungrily consumed the wood. Debris of all sorts were scattered about, along with heaps of dead livestock everywhere. Dead bodies littered the village, some severely burnt while others had been bludgeoned. There appeared to be no signs of life. Nothing stirred. Nothing seemed to have survived. There was only dead silence.

It wasn't long before Arthur saw the flames ablaze beyond the walls of Anthrop Castle. Only half of the north tower stood in the wake of a violent siege. The sides of the stone walls had been compromised with tall wooden ladders and tangles of climbing rope. An array of abandoned contraptions and broken weaponry littered the grounds surrounding the base of the castle. As Arthur drew nearer, he could see the drawbridge down and the outer gate hanging off its massive hinges. This was surely not a good sign and Arthur was well aware of it.

He came to a stop right passed the gate when brutal reality unfolded before his eyes. The castle that once stood fortified with power and prestige now had fallen into complete ruins. It was supposed to have been a place of refuge and safety for his people. Arthur knew what it meant to defend his kingdom until the end. War was a messy business and always left a trail of death and destruction behind. He needed to protect his people and prevent unnecessary slaughter. It was a matter of preservation. It took a while convincing Uther to evacuate Camelot as a precaution. The safest place for the civilians was Anthrop Castle. It was a fool-proof plan. Nothing about it could go wrong.

Arthur's heart sank when he saw mounds of dead villagers - men, women, and children - piled around the square among the fallen debris. Dead soldiers of King Anthrop's army along with the enemy lay scattered, some dismembered, others still with spears and weapons sticking out of their lifeless bodies. It showed that Anthrop's army didn't go down without a fight. Seeing this horrific scene before him gave him a sense of utter despair. But he vowed not to give up. He just had to find out what became of Merlin. He wouldn't be satisfied until he found his friend - whether dead or alive. Arthur hoped with every fiber of his being that Merlin was still alive. He was willing to give anything just to know that Merlin was alright. He dismounted his horse, as did the rest of the knights.

"This can't be." Sir Gwaine said as he surveyed the area in disbelief. "What the hell happened here?"

"How could Merlin have survived this?" Sir Percival shook his head. "He wouldn't have stood a chance."

The degree of destruction was far too much for anyone to bear. Even in the darkness of the night, they could see the ground littered with bodies, discarded weapons, rubbish and all sorts of odds and ends. The odor of burnt flesh and decomposing bodies was enough to make anyone sick to the stomach. But Arthur was not bothered by it. Perhaps in the earlier days, the smell of decay and sight of carnage might've made him weak in the knees, but as he grew into a seasoned knight with a good many battles under his belt, he became immune to the bloodshed. Sections of the stone walls in the courtyard lay crumbled all around at their feet. Rocks and planks of fallen wood from structures toppled onto dead bodies. It was worse than a battlefield, more like Armageddon.

"There's nothing here but ... death." Sir Elyan said.

"I want the entire castle grounds scoured until Merlin is found. Leave nothing unturned." Arthur said firmly while adjusting the leather scabbard that held his mighty sword. He hid the guilt and grief as best he could. It went without saying that the knights understood the brotherly bond Arthur and Merlin shared.

Arthur knew things were hopeless. He felt it in his gut. Percival was right - Merlin would not have stood a chance in this massacre. But he just couldn't leave without knowing for a fact that Merlin was truly dead. He needed proof. He needed to see Merlin's body before he could have some sort of closure. Perhaps he fooled himself with a false pretense of optimism. Merlin was not dead. He refused to believe it.

The knights wanted to find Merlin just as much as Arthur. Merlin was a bit clumsy and rough around the edges but all the knights have grown rather fond of the boy. He was their moral support, their comic relief, their hope, and most of all, their friend. They also knew that it was in Merlin's nature to sacrifice himself for anyone of them. The servant was just as brave and courageous as any knight in Arthur's service, though he didn't always think things through before throwing himself into the face of danger. It was this very reason that Arthur hastily ordered him to evacuate to safer ground. And after much discussion and argument, Arthur was able to resolve Merlin's usual defiant I-want-to-stay-and-fight attitude. Arthur managed to persuade Merlin into being in charge of vacating the civilians to safe grounds. He was therefore convinced that this job was just as important as fighting.

Regret was the only thing that came to Arthur's mind. He didn't want to believe that his orders resulted in Merlin's death. If Merlin had stayed by his side, perhaps it would never come to this. Merlin would be alive. He would be safe and sound. He was too proud to admit that he couldn't picture life without his best friend. It was just something that wasn't possible. But it was pretty obvious to those closest to Arthur that Merlin was considered more than just a plain manservant. Arthur valued Merlin as a friend, as a confidant, and he would never admit it, but also as an equal. Besides, it was clear to see that not just anyone was inducted into the Knights of the Round Table without good reason. These choice few were specifically hand-picked by Prince Arthur. Even though Merlin's function was that of a servant, they've grown a sense of new-found respect and admiration for his undying loyalty to protect Arthur.

Arthur and his knights fanned out immediately to cover more ground. They quickly rummaged through the debris, all the while calling Merlin's name and hoping for some sort of response from somewhere. Instead, they only heard the echoes of their own voices. Arthur went his own way and showed no hesitation in turning over every single corpse in his path.

Three bodies splayed beside a heap of smoldering embers caught Arthur's attention. It was nearly obscured by the rubble of one of the towers. In the flickering light of the dying fires and the glow of the pale moon, Arthur could see they were bodies of three men. Two were faced up and the silhouette of their stout bodies clearly did not fit Merlin's description. However, the third body, lying faced down, was of a lanky frame, dressed in what appeared to be a roan-colored jacket and dark trousers. A large spear, with half of the wooden shaft broken off, protruded from the mid of his back. He looked like he suffered a great deal of pain before expiring. Arthur's eyes then travelled to the scruffy black hair. From where Arthur stood, he was not able to see the corpse's face. But something else about his scene quickened his heart. A few inches by the body, a familiar piece of cloth lay wadded and crumpled, half smeared with blood. This was no ordinary piece of cloth, but a scarf. It was a scarf that Arthur had seen on Merlin on a daily basis.

A nauseous feeling grew in the pit of Arthur's stomach as he approached the neckerchief. His breath quickened and he willed his legs to move faster but they refused to obey. Now, part of him didn't want to know what had happened to his friend. He didn't want to go any further, because the truth was there in front of him, and the truth hurt so much. Arthur wanted to put his head in the sand and pretend that what he was about to find out was not true. But it was a little late for that.

"No..., please no." Arthur muttered to himself, barely audible. He was glad that the others were across the area and not there to witness the tears blurring his vision. He didn't want to find Merlin like this. It just wasn't fair.

He approached the body cautiously. He stood a few yards away, just staring at it like as if he was afraid to disturb it somehow. Arthur stared at the back of the corpse's head, shaggy black hair in need of a trim. He may have recognized the pointy hairline right at the nape of his neck. It looked a little different now that the very head that he often found annoying was lying there so still. Judging by the dark coagulated spot of blood next to the corpse, the death seemed to have been a while ago.

Arthur dropped down to a crouch beside the corpse. His stomach was in knots and a thick salty lump formed in his throat. He never thought he could feel such a way about someone. He always took Merlin for granted. All the abuse that he had taken from Arthur seemed to matter so much right then. Being the prince's manservant was probably the hardest job in the world. And Merlin had a defiant streak but he often rolled with the punches - sometimes, in a literal sense. Arthur enjoyed bullying Merlin around only because he had the power to and the teasing was fun. But at the end of the day, he valued Merlin's input more than anything. There was something very logical and intelligent in the advice that Merlin gave. Of course, Arthur would die before admitting to it.

He wanted to call the others over but he needed to be the first one to see. He needed to be sure and most importantly, he needed some time to let reality sink in - that his beloved brother Merlin was dead. He couldn't let the others see him in such a distraught state. He brushed off a few droplets of sweat that slid down the side of his face with his fingers.

Finally, with trembling hands he reached out and touched the corpse ever so gently.

End of Chapter 1

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. Please sign a review and let me know what you think! Sorry about the cliffhanger...not! :)