Merlin short stories

Five years pass, Merlin grows dark, so does Arthur, and the characters just arent the same anymore honestly so OOC.

The cup twirled in the air and crashed against the wall with an ominous, metallic clang, the bloody wine dripping down while the knight stared at it, shivering at the mad and murderous aura emanating from the king.

When he spoke, his voice was as cold as the outer castle wall in the middle of winter.

"Look at me."

The knight looked up. The king's eyes bore down at him, without a hint of a smile and holding all the fury of a storm which sneaks up and unleashes all its wrath upon the ignoring sailor.

"Tell me, Sir Leon," he said. "How long have you knights been looking for him?"

"Five years, sire."

"And pray tell, Sir Leon, how long is it supposed to take to find one single man?"

The knight shivered. He chose his next words with extreme care.

"With all due respect, sire, Merlin of Ealdor is a sorcerer. None of his acquaintances have seen or heard from him and we've already interrogated them multiple times."

"Ask them again. You are knights of Camelot, punishers of countless magic people in the past. So how can this particular man continuously escape from your grasp and make a fool out of us, for five entire years?"

"I sincerely apologize, sire. We will double the men for the search and requestion all known affiliates of the fugitive."

"Quadruple them. And I want daily updates on your progress."

"Yes, sire." The knight left and closed the doors behind him.

Arthur leant back with a sigh and rubbed his eyes tiredly. After five years, he still had trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that he had been betrayed by Merlin. Of course, others had betrayed him before, but he had never trusted any of them as much as he had trusted his manservant. Maybe it was just the unexpectedness of it all.

Merlin, always wearing that odd smug smile. Merlin, who was stupid enough to accompany him and the knights on every mission, unarmored, unarmed. Merlin who hadn't left him no matter how much trouble he was in, no matter how powerful the enemy was.

It just didn't make sense. Why would anyone go through that much trouble getting closer to him, when clearly, he could have killed Arthur as soon as he became manservant?

To say the truth, the hunting expedition all those years ago had never really come to an end.

"Still chasing after me then, you insufferable, arrogant prat?"

Arthur whirled around and drew his sword. No one behind him. Could he have imagined the voice?

He sat back down cautiously.

"Oi, don't just ignore me, you clotpole, I'm talking to you."

Arthur jumped up. Only one person in the entire kingdom ever dared to address him that way.

"Show yourself," he ordered, scanning the room, weapon poised to strike.

"As you wish, Sire."

Merlin appeared in front of him with a pop, surprising Arthur who stumbled back with a bewildered look on his face. For a second, both of them stared at each other without moving.

Then Arthur attacked.

Merlin's eyes turned gold and the king's sword flew from his hands and clattered to the floor. Arthur turned and ran for the door, desperately pulling on them before realizing that they had been sealed, then attempted to call for the guards, to no avail.