Gwaine flopped down on the floor of the cell with a miserable flick of his hair.
"It's been ages now. I need a drink."
A collective sigh reverberated around the room, his fellow knights rolling their eyes simultaneously. If he wasn't stone sober, it might have been amusing.
"Not the point, Gwaine. We're still trapped," Elyan snipped, hands tightening on the bars.
"That's exactly the point. I wouldn't need to get drunk if I weren't trapped."
Momentary silence reigned in the cell. Leon and Percival exchanged an incredulous look.
"Since when?" Leon frowned.
Still lying on his back on the floor, Gwaine raised his head.
"Good point."
Silence fell again.
"Seriously, how long is it going to be? Why are we not dead already?" Gwaine continued griping from his position on the floor.
"Well, they're bandits, right? They'll want gold, won't they?" Lancelot speculated, leaning forward to get a better look outside the cell.
Gwaine snorted.
"Why didn't they grab Arthur then?"
"Um, because no one could hold Arthur against his will?" Percival chipped in, as though it was obvious.
Gwaine was about to retort when the muffled sounds of shouting made its way down to the dungeons. The knights frowned - except for Percival, who nodded, a knowing smile of his face. They got up, gathering by the bars of the cell to figure out what was happening.
It wasn't long until the banging of a door opening reverberated through the dungeons, followed by the brief clanging of swords. Two of their captors stumbled backwards down the stairs, only to crumble in a heap on the floor right outside the cell. The brief silence was disturbed by the sound of rapid footsteps, and within seconds, a familiar figure appeared on the other side of the bars, sword in his hand and a confident grin on his face.
"Arthur!" they all shouted.
"All right, don't wake the dead," he quipped, raising his sword and springing the cell door open with a carefully placed kick.
"Everyone all right in here?"
"Sire, you shouldn't have come," Leon started, an urgent frown on his face, only for Arthur to roll his eyes.
"That's touching, Leon, but now is not the time for chivalry. Let's go."
Resting the blade of Excalibur on his right shoulder, Arthur reached down and grabbed Gwaine's hand, pulling him to his feet. The knight grinned in greeting, shaking his hand.
"Took you long enough."
"Couldn't let you leave the taverns unattended, could I? They'd go out of business."
Exiting the cell, the knights ended up collecting the swords that had been taken from them when they were captured, and that Arthur, clearly without breaking a sweat, had managed to retrieve in between disarming the entire band of outlaws. Lancelot grabbed his sword, twirling it in the air with a satisfied glint of his eyes, and nodded at Arthur in acknowledgement.
"Good job, sire."
"All in a day's work," Arthur shrugged, a slight grin on his face. "Let's move out before we have more company. Oh, and Gwaine? Your days of thirst are over."
With those encouraging words, Arthur raised his hand, throwing a water skin into Gwaine's expecting hands. The knight grinned, unscrewed the cap and took a big gulp. He could already sense the taste of home.