A/N: Hey guys! So, WARNING: there are times in this story where it may seem to get a bit ridiculous, and I know it's unrealistic. However, I wanted to do this for fun, so I hope you'll just except the OOC side of things. Have fun reading!
PS: I know this chapter's a lot shorter than the others. But, considering it's going to be Merlin's dialogue, they might get kind of shorter. Anyways, read on!
...
Arthur prodded the fire with a dry, knobby stick, but didn't bother to watch the storm of sparks it created above his head. The flickering glow of the flames illuminated a small circle around their group in the dark, and cast long, looming shadows of their silhouettes onto the ground. They sat around the fire, sprawled on the ground or on their haunches, a stagnant silence heavy in the air between them. Gaius and Gwen were next to each other, Gwen with her knees drawn up to her chest, staring determinedly into the flames as if it might hold answers, and Gaius with a far away look in his haggard features, barely concealing the deep amounts of concern beneath. Gwaine was restless, constantly shifting and readjusting his position on his bedroll, glaring at anything he could and sometimes studying his hands in an attempt to calm himself. His worry was much more obvious than Gaius', subtlety not being extremely prominent in his personality, to understate.
Leon and Elyan played a silent, aimless game of cards, having nothing better to occupy themselves with, while Percival sat stoically, swirling his spoon through what remained of his untouched dinner.
Arthur hadn't been able to eat either.
He shifted his attention over to the handle of his sword. Excalibur was buried underneath the fire, by the coals where the heat was greatest. He waited, eyeing the glinting edge of the metal as if it would somehow speed up the process. But it would take three days. Three days before the weapon would penetrate Merlin's prison.
Gaius had assured Arthur that what they were doing wasn't magic. Arthur had somehow lost faith in this declaration after the physician had spent several hours throwing herbs and concoctions into the fire whilst chanting some strange language. But Gaius had been firm, it was not magic, but a means of "countering" magic. A defense.
While Arthur was still suspicious of this flimsy explanation, he found that he could not, would not, do anything to hinder it. Magic or not, Gaius said this would get Merlin out.
And Arthur had promised he would.
The sever still stood tauntingly a few yards away, visible as a ghostly spectrum in the night, a vague, black outline against the backdrop of the forest foliage. The eerie light of the moon and stars filtered through the treetops and created a complex pattern across its flawless, luminescent surface, so black it put the night sky to shame. Arthur glared at the horrible contraption with hatred. He hated to imagine what kind of person it would take to create such a thing.
He hated to imagine what would happen if he encountered such a person.
Underneath, he was racked with agitation. Nothing had been heard from Merlin for at least two hours, not even the ragged, rapid breathing. Arthur supposed he must have fallen asleep awhile ago. But it was impossible to ignore that nagging, underlying feeling of fear that it was something much, much worse. This must have partly been the reason for the tense silence permeating the air. They all waited, holding their breath.
So it was, when Merlin finally did talk, it came as no surprise that everyone seemed to jump slightly, immediately alert as all eyes turned to the sever.
"Okay, okay, just calm down, breathe slowly. Just breathe…breathe. They're coming. They're coming…"
Arthur felt his throat close up. He didn't move a muscle, and several more moments passed, before Merlin talked again.
"But, what if they're not…? I might be dead. That's it, isn't it? I'm dead, and this is Hell. Bloody hell, I'm in Hell, how is that fair?!"
Arthur was taken aback by the bitterness in Merlin's voice.
"Well, can't say that it comes a surprise. This is just my luck, isn't it? On top of the torture that is my reality, my soul's been condemned to suffer. And it's not enough that I'm among the eternally damned, is it? Oh, no! I'm also talking to myself, like a damned crazy person! Great, just great! Well, thank you kindly, powers that be! I thought I'd at least get some rest in the afterlife, but no, fate's decided, once again, to see how much I can take. Ha!"
There was a prolonged, stunned silence, everyone around the campfire sat with mouths agape and eyes wide with shock. Arthur wasn't able to sort through the questions in his head beneath the astonishment at Merlin's outburst, and the content within.
"Alright, just calm down, calm down, you're not dead. You're going to lose your mind like this. Just relax, Arthur's coming, someone's coming. First step, stop talking to yourself,"
"And…now,"
"Just, stop"
"Now,"
...
A/N: So, tell me what you thought! Good, bad, funny? I might rewrite this chapter, as it didn't turn out exactly the way I wanted it to. But, hopefully, you guys still liked it. Once again, this is a somewhat quirky story, a lot different than many other Merlin stories, and especially different from my others. But, I am doing this for me. So, though it is odd, I hope you will still read and enjoy! And, this one was mostly humor and set up (which there is a lot of), so more angst will come later. :) Have a nice night!