The Power of Words

A warm, familiar feeling of contentment stole over Arthur as he sat around the camp-fire with his ten companions that night. This was where he truly belonged: Here, in the company of those he cared most about in the world. The heat from the flames, the comforting crackle of the logs and Percival's softly spoken words, all combined to make him feel a little drowsy, and it was a while before Arthur realised that his eyes were closed and the sounds around him were distant and muffled.

He started suddenly, pulling himself fully awake and glancing nervously around at the others, hoping no-one had noticed that he had almost fallen asleep.

"The young man moved forward cautiously, sword in hand. 'Who are you?' he asked nervously."

Percival was continuing with his story and had captured the attention of everyone around the fire, each person listening intently and devouring his every word.

"The lady turned slowly, her hood still covering her face. 'Won't you tell me your name?' the young man asked again. 'Won't you tell me why you are here?' As she turned to face him, he realised that something of her features should now be visible. The full moon was behind his back, throwing its light onto the woman's green cloak and yet, under her hood, he could see nothing but darkness."

Percival paused dramatically and Arthur grinned at the act, turning his head slightly to gauge his companions' reaction to the tale and not at all surprised to see everyone watching the big knight intently - the men's eyes just as wide as the ladies. Arthur's gaze naturally lingered to his immediate left and to the pair he cared about the most in this world - not that he would admit such a thing to Merlin, of course. His servant was sitting next to him, blue eyes wide and bright with his head slightly forwards, eager to catch every word. Guinevere was one place further along and now had her left hand held over her mouth, leaning slightly towards Merlin, as if seeking his comfort. Arthur briefly debated switching places with his friend so he could have the excuse of holding her closer if she became too scared, but Percival was now continuing and his attention was quickly pulled back to the story.

"The young man moved towards her, slowly and cautiously. 'Do not fear me, I will not hurt you,' he said and she nodded, apparently reassured. She moved her hands to lower her hood and revealed..." Percival paused, leaning forwards, and everyone around the camp-fire instinctively did the same. "Nothing!" Percival said in a louder voice. "There was no head under the hood, just a darkness blacker than any night."

Gwen gave a muffled yelp and grabbed at Merlin's arm which, in turn, caused him to jump and cry out too. Gwaine laughed and a few others attempted to muffle giggles at the pair's reaction.

Percival grinned broadly before continuing. "The young man turned to run, but the darkness expanded from the hood like black fog and quickly caught up with him, enveloping him in blanket of eternal night-time." The knight lowered his voice even further. "And so, from that evening on, there were always two cloaked figures to be seen walking out on the desolate moor."

The ending of the tale was greeted by a heavy silence, broken only by the pop of a burning log, which again caused quite a few of the listeners to visibly jump.

"A good tale," Leon said eventually, his voice a little less firm than usual. "Very well told." Arthur noticed that the knight's eyes were a little wild and smiled to himself, looking around at all of his companions in order to determine which ones were most effected by Percival's spooky tale.

"Indeed," said Gaius. "Although I'm not sure I should be listening to ghost stories at my time of life. Especially on Samhain night."

"Yes, who's clever idea was that, anyway?" Elyan asked with a laugh.