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tamingthemuseTitle: Sensing you
Fandom: Original (based on the Arthurian Legends)
Prompt: Prompt 326 - Sixth sense
Warnings: Death of characters.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Arthurian Legends are in the public domain. I make no reference to any copyrighted work. So all is mine.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: Arthur felt the sword slash through the leather that was supposed to protect his flesh. He gasped and paused all hips movement for a second. He hadn't felt it coming.
Arthur felt the sword slash through the leather that was supposed to protect his flesh. He gasped and paused all hips movement for a second. He hadn't felt it coming. His eyes opened wide at the shock. He hadn't known someone was behind him, ready to strike. He heard the man behind him cry in pain. It was Mordred's voice. As the blade exited his body he turned round, ignoring the pain that was lashing through his body. Hi son was facing him, tears running through the dirt on his face.
"Mordred," his voice was low. "My son..." The word escaped his lips as he pronounced them. He hadn't meant to say that, hadn't meant for his voice to break. It made sense now. The blow had come from his son. He had never been able to feel his presence around him, he had always been a silent figure in the corridors of the castle. He had never knew why but had always suspected it was because he didn't want to acknowledge him, to admit the reality of his existence, to be reminded of the crime he, Arthur, had tried to commit on him.
Arthur felt to his knees, the muddy ground breaking his fall. His sword was raised in an automatic gesture of protection, of attack. He saw Mordred fall on his knees, leaning forward, onto his sword. Arthur wanted to cry in protest but his voice was dying in his throat, lost in a gurgle of blood.
"I'm sorry..."
Arthur had forced the words out. There was so much more he wanted to say but he couldn't.
He drew his sword out of his son's body and crawl to him, taking him into his arms. He pressed him hard against is chest, caressing his hair tenderly as if reassuring a scared child.
He could feel the failing heart of this son beat against his, both beating slower and slower in an unmatched rhythm but it didn't matter to Arthur. He didn't even noticed that his own heart was still beating. He could feel Mordred. He could sense him as he had always sensed everybody else. He could feel his son.
"My son..." The words came easily this time, flowing on his last breath.
Arthur's head dropped to the side, his body falling in to the ground, taking Mordred with him, his young head resting against his heart.
Fandom: Original (based on the Arthurian Legends)
Prompt: Prompt 326 - Sixth sense
Warnings: Death of characters.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Arthurian Legends are in the public domain. I make no reference to any copyrighted work. So all is mine.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: Arthur felt the sword slash through the leather that was supposed to protect his flesh. He gasped and paused all hips movement for a second. He hadn't felt it coming.
Arthur felt the sword slash through the leather that was supposed to protect his flesh. He gasped and paused all hips movement for a second. He hadn't felt it coming. His eyes opened wide at the shock. He hadn't known someone was behind him, ready to strike. He heard the man behind him cry in pain. It was Mordred's voice. As the blade exited his body he turned round, ignoring the pain that was lashing through his body. Hi son was facing him, tears running through the dirt on his face.
"Mordred," his voice was low. "My son..." The word escaped his lips as he pronounced them. He hadn't meant to say that, hadn't meant for his voice to break. It made sense now. The blow had come from his son. He had never been able to feel his presence around him, he had always been a silent figure in the corridors of the castle. He had never knew why but had always suspected it was because he didn't want to acknowledge him, to admit the reality of his existence, to be reminded of the crime he, Arthur, had tried to commit on him.
Arthur felt to his knees, the muddy ground breaking his fall. His sword was raised in an automatic gesture of protection, of attack. He saw Mordred fall on his knees, leaning forward, onto his sword. Arthur wanted to cry in protest but his voice was dying in his throat, lost in a gurgle of blood.
"I'm sorry..."
Arthur had forced the words out. There was so much more he wanted to say but he couldn't.
He drew his sword out of his son's body and crawl to him, taking him into his arms. He pressed him hard against is chest, caressing his hair tenderly as if reassuring a scared child.
He could feel the failing heart of this son beat against his, both beating slower and slower in an unmatched rhythm but it didn't matter to Arthur. He didn't even noticed that his own heart was still beating. He could feel Mordred. He could sense him as he had always sensed everybody else. He could feel his son.
"My son..." The words came easily this time, flowing on his last breath.
Arthur's head dropped to the side, his body falling in to the ground, taking Mordred with him, his young head resting against his heart.
