As I did state before, BBC's depiction of Merlin does not belong to me. Here's the second chapter, a bit longer than the first! And just a side note, chapter lengths might vary a great deal in this story, but I'll try to post them in bunches. _
Pale blue eyes stared morosely out from the battlements of the castle, his eyes trained on the rising trail of smoke drifting from the canopy of the tangled and bare branches of the forest, a frown set deep in his face. His fingers curled around the rough edges of the stone wall before him, the noonday sun lighting his prominent cheekbones and casting shadow upon the hollows beneath them. Pressing his lips together into a tight line, he reluctantly turned his gaze from the plume of deep grey, releasing his grip on the stone at the same time as he stalked away quickly, nearly stumbling in his haste as he descends the steep stairs. The sounds of frantic shouting quickly faded as he hurried below, his footsteps echoing eerily around the empty corridor. His heart stopped for a moment without warning before he broke into a clumsy sprint, taking the next several sets of stairs three at a time before skidding to a halt in the courtyard. He took in the sight of townspeople and nobles alike, the latter seeming rather reluctant, working together to form a chain with which to send buckets full to the brim with cool water, the steady pace with which they pass the bucket from one person to the next belying the gravity of the situation. His eyes scanned the line quickly before he scurried past the line, moving quickly through the lower town towards the edge of the forest. Following the length of the line, he moved quickly, his gaze drawn inexorably towards the flickering light in the distance, deep within the belly of the forest. The same gaze narrowed as billows of smoke assault him, a harsh cough wracking his lanky frame as he paused before continuing doggedly onwards. His voice was slightly roughened and made hoarse by the smoke, cracking embarrassingly as he called out a name.
"Arthur! Arthur, you... you great prat..." A brief bout of choking overwhelmed him before he took up the cry again. " Arthur!" He brought his threadbare sleeve up to cover his nose and mouth in a feeble attempt to curtail the inhalation of the smoke that permeated the air. His arm swung around wildly in front of him, creating trailing strands of the thick grey vapor instead of clearing it away, his eyes growing more watery by the second. His voice grew steadily weaker, the thick smog stealing it away completely within minutes. He dropped to his knees, still attempting to shield his nose and mouth from the smoke with his clothed arm, falling forward to rest on his other hand as dry coughing overcomes him, his limbs failing him as he fell face forward to rest in the detritus of the moist forest floor.