Chapter Text
The creature had, probably, started life as a boar.
Merlin hated boars.
They were the sort of animal you learned to fear living in the country: they were violent, stupid, and very strong. Regular boars were bad enough without being the size of a horse and possessed of two pairs of massive, razor-sharp tusks. The creature seemed to be exhaling a faintly green mist which made Merlin even more convinced that this was going to be a Very Bad Plan. “Arthur, that boar is enchanted .”
Across the field, the creature’s massive hooves were churning up the mud and turf as it charged-- there was no other word for it-- towards the small group of knights that bristled with plate and spears on the edge of the treeline. Arthur hefted his spear and frowned at his manservant. “Obviously it’s been enchanted, Merlin. That’s why we brought a dozen men.” His tone was that of one speaking with a rather slow child.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Yes Merlin, you’ve said. Multiple times. Stop being such a girl.”
The boar was clearly not in the mood to wait for the prince to finish arguing with his servant, as it was rapidly closing in on the knights.
“Ready men!” Arthur hefted the spear above his shoulder. The spearhead was wider than Merlin's spread hand and barbed. Arthur threw in a high arc, and even annoyed with him, Merlin had to admit that the ease of the motion was impressive. The spear flew quickly and hit the boar mid-body with an audible thunk.
The beast didn’t seem to notice.
Arthur called for a frontal assault. There was no time for an “I told you so” as the men took up arms and joined battle with the beast, but Merlin suspected that it would have had as much effect as the spear. The three villages who had sent the plea for help were rapidly being destroyed by this creature, and Uther had promised aid. Arthur wouldn’t turn back for something as simple as the fact that the enemy in question was using unknown magic. Too many magical rescues had given Arthur an unrealistic expectation of his own skills, Merlin thought bitterly.
Keeping to the side as much as possible, Merlin had no choice but to follow Arthur as well as he could as the prince and his men circled the beast, swiping and stabbing at the body of the boar while trying to dance around the stomping hooves. He wouldn't be much good with a spear, but he could perhaps see something useful; maybe it had a weak spot or some talisman or mark that provided the boar with its power. Merlin stared at the monstrous creature as it bucked and kicked at its attackers, but saw only coarse brown hair and leathery skin.
A knight ran at Merlin’s side, carrying a javelin and wearing his helm with the visor down over his eyes. Merlin didn’t know the man’s name, he was one of Uther’s long-serving knights, and well used to the patrol. “Sir Knight,” Merlin called, “your visor--”
But the man was already charging, Merlin’s words either unheard or ignored. Three others from the party charged with him, forming up a small frontal opening attack. They were only a few paces away from the creature when the thing’s massive head swung around, invisible to the visored men. The boar’s double tusks collided with the first knight and flung him back towards Merlin. He fell with a short cry and did not try to rise.
Merlin’s blood chilled as he stared at the plate covering the man’s chest and side. The thick metal had been ripped apart like so much soft wax. Blood poured from the gash and the visor, still down, blocked the man’s view of the beast as he died. Merlin scrambled forward, crying out and reaching for the man. Even as he touched the outflung hand he knew there was nothing for him to do.
Arthur whirled, taking in the dead man and the rapidly worsening situation. “Merlin! Get down!”
Not needing to be told twice, Merlin took cover behind a small rise in the terrain. He had to lay flat on the ground to be hidden in the tall grass. Arthur and his men were holding their own against the boar, learning how to best evade it the longer they fought, but nothing they did to it seemed to be slowing it down and the men would tire before much longer. Merlin forced himself to look past the knights and past the beast itself. He searched for any sign of enchantment. For a moment there was nothing, then a faint prickle of warmth began to creep up Merlin’s spine. It flowed along the ground, apparently coming out of the creature… but that couldn’t be, that would mean the boar itself was casting. The knights were shouting as another man was cut down, but this time the knight popped up again and hobbled to the side, out of the way of the others. Desperate, Merlin closed his eyes and tried to feel what was happening before him. Show me where you come from.
No, the power wasn’t flowing from the creature, it was flowing into the creature with such abundance that the magic seemed to overflow and spill out onto the earth again. It filled up every part of the boar and obscured any natural energy the creature had.
“Arthur!” Merlin had to shout over the cries of the men. Arthur had lost his helm or more likely thrown it aside after what happened to his fallen man, so the prince was distinguishable by the glint of his blonde hair in the sun. Standing beside Arthur, Percival was a massive presence. He wielded a spear like it was a toy. Another figure, indistinguishable in his silver plate, was too slow and a hoof struck him in the chest. The knight collapsed in a heap and did not move again. Merlin had to do something. “ Arthur ! It’s being animated by magic! It can’t be killed!”
That got the prince’s attention. Arthur danced back from the fray and turned toward Merlin, “ What ?” The spear in his hand was slick with blood but there were no visible wounds on the creature. Now that he was tuned into it, Merlin could feel the pulse of the magic flowing from the earth, healing the beast. He didn’t have any idea how to stop it, particularly since it didn’t seem to be coming from any specific source.
“You can’t stab it to death! Arthur, you have to retreat!”
Maybe it was because Arthur couldn’t conceive that stabbing wouldn’t solve his problems, maybe he didn’t hear the words over the sounds of the ongoing fight, but the prince didn’t step back immediately. It was only a heartbeat, maybe two. Later Merlin would realize that the whole fight had been remarkably short, it had only felt long to him. Each moment seemed to be stretched and elongated.
Someone, another unknown knight was trampled. He fell with a scream and an awful series of snaps and cracks. The man beside him roared and stabbed into the creature's side, below the joint of the shoulder, with force. In response, the creature shrieked and flung its head.
Time seemed to freeze. Merlin watched helplessly as the vicious tusks connected with Arthur’s half-turned torso. Arthur’s eyes went wide as the shock of the blow connected but he couldn’t have felt the pain yet. The panic on Merlin’s face was reflected back to him through those blue, blue eyes. Arthur was going to die.
No.
Merlin flung out one hand, but his voice was calm. He spoke normally, but the word seemed unnaturally loud, even in his own ears. “ No .”