The silence of the cell becomes eerie and unwelcoming. Reality is hitting, knowing that Arthur and his men won't be able to convince the people, or Olaf for that matter, that a warlock is controlling the King's decisions. I'd still be hung at dawn, nothing could change that, and I accept that, but I am only human after all—the irony.
Gwaine and Merlin promised me their return, but I know the odds of that. I know those two would only honour their word, having presented that as their nature over the short time I've known them. But time is short, not enough to convince a king otherwise of execution.
Lost in my thoughts, the sound of shuffling feet echoes through the hallways outside my cell. My eyes shoot up to the tiny barred window, the outside world still shadowed in the moonlight. It's not my time yet.
With this revelation, I crane my neck over my shoulder. I catch sight of dark shadows, Olaf's knights fighting against two figures who fight against their captors. Groans and yells of protest now fill my cell as I watch in shock at the scene before me.
A knight emerges from the chaos leaping for the cell door, jamming a silver key into the keyhole rushed, pushing the door open so forced it hits the stone wall with a bang. This triggers my limbs to spark into action. I jump to my feet, and back to the wall so quickly the Knight almost doesn't notice my presence. A concerned expression crosses his face as he searches the dark cell, relief washing over him as he catches my figure in the corner.
The Knight leaps to the side as the hustle of men moves toward the cell door. I can't make out who they try to throw in the cell through the chaos of chainmail and bodies. After a long commotion, the first figure is chucked into the cell, hitting the ground with a loud thud, a groan escaping his mouth. I lean right up against the stone wall as I watch on in shock and confusion.
The second figure stumbles into the cell, his oversized silhouette towering as he regains footing. The cell door slams shut, the sound echoing through the cell as the lock is clicked shut. Olaf's Knights curse and throw a few insults at the two figures before disappearing. The cell is again taken by silence, the sound of heavy breathing bouncing off the dark walls as the two men before me regain their strength.
I only now notice the chainmail on their bodies, the faint light glaring off the metal mesh. The figure on the ground pulls himself up into a crouch, his long dark hair falling over his face. I squint my eyes, trying to get a better look at the two men, but the room's darkness makes it hard to focus. I stand stiff in the corner, not knowing who these two men are and what they're capable of doing. Not to mention I'm locked in a cell with them, and the guards have no care for their prisoners...
"Edythe", the tall figure states out of breath, his voice familiar. "It's okay. It's only us."
I tilt my head to the side in a confused manner as I try to place a face to the voice. His choice of words is weird, considering I don't know who 'us' is.
"Says the big scary guy", a voice too annoying to forget teases. Gwaine. Which then makes me realise Percival is the owner of the other. I let out a loud breath I didn't realise I was holding in.
"I was just clarifying that we're not going to hurt her, Gwaine", Percival's voice replies with an annoyed tone.
"It's not us Edythe has to worry about."
"Yes, that's why I was clarifying."
"But there's no need to clarify."
"Seriously, Gwaine, we've just been arrested, and that's what you want to fight me about?"
"Sorry, I had a thought-"
"Well, keep your thoughts to yourself!"
"Don't get your braies in a twist!"
"Will you two shut up!" I groan in annoyance, a headache coming on. "What do you mean arrested?" I ask Percival's words, the only thing I caught in that whole predicament.
"Remember the whole sorcerer shenanigans?" Gwaine starts, now pulling himself up onto his feet. I nod, urging him to continue.
"Well, Arthur thought it would be a good idea to confide in Lady Vivian, see if she could help us. As you could imagine, King Olaf took it the wrong way, which then made the sorcerer concerned, and thus we were hunted out of the city."
"Gwaine and I stayed behind to hold Olaf's men off while Arthur escaped", Percival adds.
"Turns out, the Sorcerer is after Arthur."
Percival sighs. "Wouldn't surprise me if this was Morgana's doing."
I let their words sink in, revising over what they had told me. I sink to the floor of the cell to think. It makes sense that Arthur is the target. I mean, I don't know the motive of this Warlock, but it all makes sense to lurer Arthur out of his Kingdom into Olaf's. The perfect crime. Arthur wouldn't have all his men to defend him, and no one would suspect the king's death to happen under Olaf's roof.
I've heard stories of the witch Percival mentioned. I know her to be Arthur's half-sister who turned rouge with her magic, power-hungry for the throne. The usual case. I don't know to what extent she'd be willing to kill Arthur, but it is a perfect crime once again if she is behind this. Someone else takes the fall for the murder of the King whilst she strolls in to take the Throne without a fight as there's no one there to stop her. All the while, Arthur is left trapped in a hell stone forever.
Damn, she's good.
I tune back into the room, realising that the two Knights have been in deep discussion about Morgana. Their topic mimics the thoughts I was only having moments ago. They continue talking about Arthur and hoping that the others get him to safety.
I can't help but watch on in wonder at their loyalty to their King, the way they talk of him in such a fond way. It's as if they'd lay down their lives for him. It's so foreign to me, strange as I've never felt that way about anyone or had someone feel that way for me. Not for a long time anyway.
I'm so distracted by their plotting and planning to escape that I don't even notice the first light of the sun begin to fall through the cell window.
"Our belt buckles", Percival suddenly has a thought "we could try and craft some form of lock pick?"
"That's a good idea", Gwaine answers "do you know how to do that?"
"Well, no-"
"Well, that's great."
"Why don't you try then, Gwaine?"
"I'm just saying-"
"Hold on...we're forgetting the essential tool we have in this cell!" Percival suddenly beams, his face lighting up "the perfect escape plan."
"And what is that?" Gwaine asks, confused.
"Edythe", Percival answers his eyes now on me. Gwaine turns on his heel, the thought now running over his face, a smirk now growing.
It takes me a moment to understand what Percival is trying to say, not quite catching onto his idea. The realisation that he's referring to my escaping and stealing skills that could come in handy.
I'm proud he'd even thought of me, admitting that I'm the best escape plan. But then I remember that I've lost all opportunities of escape. Before, I had the will to escape, but now I haven't got anything left in me. I understand the drive for these two, but I don't have my own.
"You have escaped us twice", Gwaine notes.
"As to current circumstances, I disagree", I answer, gesturing to the cell space.
"You're only here because you chose to come back the first time. And by some serious bad luck, Olaf's men were present the second."
"Don't you think if there were a way out, I would have found it by now?" I protest.
"She has a point."
"No, I think you've just given up", Percival observes, taking a step toward me, making me take action back. He notices this and puts his hands up in reassurance that he won't get too close. "All I'm saying is, I would have given up too after every chance I had was forfeited. You need to think–observe. You're a brilliant woman, Edythe. I can see that. Any man could. Even Gwaine."
Gwaine nods proudly before glaring at Percival as he realises the context.
"You've never been caught until now, and I can't deny I've seen you observing your surroundings. You form plans based on what your surroundings have presented. Like that fork! We would have never guessed you had a fork because how did you get it? We still don't know! Are you seeing my point yet?"
I nod, understanding his words. Everything he said is accurate, and I like that he could still spite Gwaine despite the seriousness. Yet, I don't know what he wants me to do with that. Yes, Percival is right. I have given up, but having the will to try isn't going to change the fact that there is nothing in this cell to run on.
Before I can protest with the two men, the sound of marching feet in the hall catches my attention. With my back to the cell door, I look at the two Knights for clarification as they stare out at the approaching men. Now noticing the sunlight falling onto Gwaine's chainmail, I release its morning.
A shiver runs down my spine–it's time. This is the end of my road, my last chapter. My nerves burst aflame, breath hitching painfully in my throat.
I try to keep myself composed in front of Percival and Gwaine, but it's hard to keep a straight face as I begin to gasp for breath like it doesn't want to fill my lungs anymore. The realisation runs across the two knight's faces as I'm sure panic begins to fill my facial features. The sound of the door unlocking makes me jump. I want to scream and run, but there's nowhere to go, and there's no use crying. It won't save me.
The first-hand grabs me from behind, jerking me toward the door. I turn to see Olaf's crest on the man's chest, feeling everything in my stomach threaten to come up. Another hand grabs onto my right, abruptly pulling me back toward the inside of the cell. I turn my head to see Gwaine with a tight grip on my arm. Pain shoots up my left side as the Knight harshly yanks me toward the door. Gwaine follows as he loses his footing for a few steps before grounding himself. His fingers burn into my right shoulder.
Another knight comes rushing into the cell to help his comrade. Before attacking Gwaine, Percival leaps in front of him and me in a protective stance, punching down the new knight. Another pair of hands wrap around my waist, pulling me halfway out the cell door. Gwaine continues trying to pull me back into the cell with all his strength. The fabric of my shirt begins to tear over my left shoulder. Now in an uncomfortable position in three men's embrace, I'm squished in the doorway. Yet stretched as they all fight to get a hold of me.
Percival heaves himself into the doorway, sweeping his left arm around my waist as he fends off more men trying to grab hold of me. I can feel myself being pulled back into the cell, into the clutches of the Knights of Camelot. As Olaf's men lose grip on me, I catch sight of a strange little metal figure on a knight's hip attached to his belt. It looks like a knight, spun together by a young child with wire.
An idea sparks.
Reaching forward, I wrap my palm around the wire figure, parts of it embedding into my flesh. Blood fills my palm, dripping onto the floor, but I grit my teeth, ripping the wire from the man's belt just in time as I fall back into the cell.
Percival sweeps me behind him, Gwaine letting go of my arm to join him in front of me. The two men push me back into the corner of the cell, Percival's left arm tightly around the front of my waist and Gwaine's right also around the front of my shoulders, both in protective defiant stances.
The two Knights in front of us grumble amongst themselves, unsure what to do. I hear one of them say to back off and return with reinforcements. The two disappear from the cell, the door slamming behind them. They rush off to come up with a plan B, seeing that Percival and Gwaine won't let them take me without a fight.
The two knights release their grip on me, allowing me to fall to the ground as I let out a shriek upon realising that these two had just saved me from the gallows. Well, for now anyway. Feeling the adrenaline pumping through me, I use this to fuel my brain's running idea for the wire bundle in my palm.
"Are you alright?" Percival asks, leaning down, Gwaine mimicking his movement.
I know I'm in shock, unable to fathom what has just happened, so I use this to my advantage while I can. Those Knights will be back for me with swords and reinforcements soon.
I open my palm, hissing in pain as the wire dislodges from my flesh, blood running from my palm onto the stone floor. Not even answering Percival, I get to work unravelling the wire figure and sculpting a pick. My blood smears all over the wire, my hands shaking from the adrenaline and pain, making it hard to twist it the way it should, but I manage.
"That's going to get infected", Gwaine observes.
"I'll look at it when we get out", I answer, "we don't have time to worry about it."
"You've got a plan?" Percival asks, a slither of hope in his voice.
"Somewhat."
I push past the two men as I crawl across the floor in a rushed manner to the cell door. I can hear the distant sound of voices, which only makes me get to work faster. I shove the wire into the lock, beginning to work as best I can with the time I have and shaking my limbs. The shaking is becoming ridiculous!
Gwaine and Percival approach behind me, continuing to ask questions I ignore. Finally, having a plan and the fear of death urging me on, I couldn't make myself stop even if I wanted to.
The lock makes a clicking sound, the door swinging open from my weight. I almost fall forward, but Gwaine catches me, helping me to my feet whilst Percival sticks his head out the door, assessing the situation.
"There's no one here at the moment. We need to move quickly."
Gwaine helps me out the door despite my protests, the three of us moving through the hallways. Percival takes the head of the group, giving signals that it's safe and when it's not. Remembering the halls from my last escape, I instruct the men in what direction they need to go. Hearing footsteps approaching, we slide into a small room full of food stocks, leaning against the wall.
Shadows of men pass by the door, their loud footsteps becoming distant as they disappear down another hallway. We scurry from the room, now picking up the pace, listening out for the warning bell that will go off soon.
We descend a flight of stairs, Percival running ahead as he sees an exit. "No!" I shout in a whisper, "There are guards stationed above there. We'll be done for. Turn right."
"But that takes us further in", Gwaine hisses in panic.
"There's a barred door. It'll be locked, but I'll be able to get it open with the wire," I answer, pushing Gwaine as I finally get free to walk myself. I rush past Percival, taking the lead when we make a right turn.
The sound of warning bells echoes through the long hallways, forcing us into a sprint. Dust fills the air as we turn down many twisting hallways. I know I'll only have a minute to get that door open, and we have no time to waste. I don't even have thought or emotion as I fall to my knees in front of the barred door. I force the wire into the lock. I work with it, trying my hardest to get the door open as I hear the distant running of feet and orders shouted. I let out a frustrated cry as I jiggle the wire, the lock refusing to open.
I let out another cry as the door swings open. I crawl out of the door, stumbling to my feet, not even caring as vines covering the entrance get wrapped around me, still clinging to me as I rush into the dense forest. The two knights follow behind me, not stopping for any breath as we continue to run into the woods. I rip the vines from me as I leap and steer through the forest's harsh terrain, feeling the irony of having run through here twice in the same week.
After running for what felt like forever, we come to a stop. Our heavy breathing fills the quiet forest, the birds watching from the trees. I fall to my knees, mind and limbs, tired from the stress and physical strain. With my senses kicking in and my mind allowed to think, reality hits me, an emotional wave hits me like a ton of boulders.
I almost died. I was sentenced to death! I was going to be hung, and if it weren't for the two knights with me now, I would be ten feet under already...
This concept makes my mind rush through so many emotions I don't think I've ever felt before. I've never had this kind of rushed emotion before, and it takes me by surprise, the feeling so foreign.
I almost died! I owe these men my life! I can't express how I feel, unable to control the loop of thoughts and emotions as the events of this morning repeat in my mind.
I don't even notice the tears that fall down my cheeks as I let everything hit me at once. This is the best time to let myself fall apart before I must run again. I know I'm having a breakdown, I've seen other people have them before, but I've never really had one to this extent before.
I shiver as a cold breeze washes through the sea of green, leaves waving in the wind. The wind kisses my shoulder, reminding me of my torn clothing. I can feel that it's ripped far down my back, hanging off my shoulder, not enough to expose anything, so it doesn't bother me.
A cool hand rests on my shoulder, causing me to jump at the sudden contact. "We should go", Percival's voice says in a light tone. I nod, sniffing and wiping the tears from my face.
Gwaine navigates the forest, trying to determine our location. "Arthur said they would be headed to the west as it's the best advantage point."
"Keep in mind that there will be patrols looking for Arthur and us alike", Percival adds, now joining Gwaine. "They will be patrolling the border to Camelot, so if we stick to the forests deep in Olaf's kingdom-"
"-Then we should be able to reach Arthur in no time", Gwaine finishes. "Unless you have an idea, Edythe?"
I shake my head, which is now hung low. This is the weakest I've felt, and I hate having to show it. I feel exposed, not because of my ripped clothing–that doesn't bother me. It's the way I'm letting these two men see my weakness, allowing them to see me at my lowest point, rock bottom.
"Let's get going then", Percival orders.
"Wait..." the word leaves my lips before I can stop it. The two men stopped in their tracks to look at me, waiting as I had asked them to. I rub my arm as I try to say the words that I've never really had to say or have ever full-heartedly meant. "...Thank you."
"Thank you for saving my life. For putting yourselves in harm's way to save someone who far from deserves it."
"Don't say that", Gwaine gasps, taken aback by my words. "You've proven your good heart when you helped us escape; you were the one who thought of the sorcerer."
"You healed my wound", Percival adds, "and gave Merlin herbs to help."
"Arthur was right. You have good in you. You just don't let yourself show it," Gwaine continues, a genuine smile on his face, something I've never seen from the jokester before. "And we'll be happy to vouch for you when the time comes."
A small smile grows with gratitude and joy at the knight's words. It feels strange to have someone say such nice things and put themselves at risk for me. Despite being nobles, they are willing to look past all the horrible things that I've done to see the good that I could do. That's something I can't see myself. It confuses me to no end as to why these men from Camelot are so understanding, and as much as I want to put up my walls and be ready for backstabbing, I can't find a reason to.
"Come on", Percival says, also smiling now, having seen a genuine smile from me. "Let's go."