Title: Yes, my Lord
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Rolf the OC
Summary: It was a good day’s work, after all.
Warnings: major character death, not a happy ending
Word Count: 368
Camelot Drabble Prompt: #380: yes, my lord
Author's Notes: I figured everyone would do sexy times so I went in another direction. And yes, I did use ‘the’ as in ‘the boy’, ‘the prince’ a lot. That was deliberate to give distance to the scene.
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; It and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
The boy was struggling, the cold iron cuffs around his wrists glowing as he tried to use magic to escape. It was useless, of course. A tried and true method of capture, of keeping the scum from harming others, of leaving magic-users helpless against Camelot’s final solution.
Dragging his feet, eyes blazing blue then gold and blue again, the filthy sorcerer was calling out to the prince, begging him for rescue, to do something.
But Arthur was as captured as he, chained down, a dozen knights flanking him, keeping the restraints taut as he fought to escape. It was clear he was under an enchantment, for why else would he be calling out the prisoner’s name, sounding as if his heart were breaking, then turning to his father to beg for clemency. Beside him, King Uther stood, his eyes focused solely on the boy, seeming to ignore Prince Arthur’s pleas.
As Rolf pulled the prisoner up onto the dry wood, and tied him tightly to the pole at its center, he gave a little nod to the scum, then smiled. This Merlin, this traitorous manservant to the prince, would be the day’s entertainment. A sorcerer soon to be a delight of fire and light and agony, his screams would be echoing like music against the castle walls. And it would be one less sorcerer to pollute Camelot’s golden promise.
Rolf looked up, waiting for the signal. And when King Uther lowered his arm, Arthur let out a great cry, calling for Merlin to escape, to use his magic. The prince was fighting against the knights, trying desperately to rescue the boy, but Rolf knew it was useless. Both the sorcerer and Prince Arthur were caught fast.
Rolf knew what to do next.
Thrusting the burning brand into the pyre, Rolf stood back, watching as the scum burned, listening to the screams as Merlin and Arthur’s voices merging into one final cry. Watching as one more sorcerer died in agony.
When it was done, when there was nothing left but ash and bone and Arthur’s soft weeping, Rolf turned away, calling to his mates, to go for a drink to celebrate.
It was a good day’s work, after all.