~ I had to split this chapter in half because it was so long, oops :') ~
~ tw: gore, dead things? ~
"Listen," Merlin whispered sombrely, straining his ears to catch any sign of life as they trotted through the forest, dappled shadows crowding the path before them, "it's so... quiet. I don't hear the birds." He muttered, throwing an anxious glance over his shoulder.
"Ooh, spooky." Gwaine jeered loudly, looking around at the other knights in playful, mocking concern. "Is it because we're travelling through the Valley of the Fallen Kings?" He pushed, earning a crude snicker from Percival. "Are you scared, Merlin? Do you want me to make some bird noises? Would that relax you?" Grinning a stupid half-grin, Gwaine peered around Elyan to whistle at Merlin.
"No." Merlin retorted coldly, irritated that no one would take him seriously. Something wasn't right... It was too quiet, almost silent - whereas the forest should have been filled with chattering birds and scurrying animals. Trickling unease crawled up his spine, making his heart skitter and his muscles tense.
Something was desperately wrong, but Merlin couldn't tell what.
They had left camp that morning, as soon as it was light. The weather had been fine and they'd made grand progress, riding without falter until midday - stopping to rest - before continuing on, towards the Valley of the Fallen Kings. All had been pleasant, and bright - until an impending cloud had covered the sun, plunging the forest into a frigid gloom that darkened the shadows and twisted the trees into arching, tangled traps above their heads.
Ever since they had passed the imposing, colossal statues that marked the Valley's entrance, Merlin had felt unexplainable uneasy. Restless and paranoid, every noise made him start. Gwaine had unhelpfully informed him that it was just the 'magical ghosts' troubling him, which somehow Merlin didn't believe.
"Come on Merlin, stop being such a forest-fairy and loosen up." Arthur sighed, though not unkindly. Feeling a sharp twinge of sadness, Merlin realised that Arthur probably didn't mean to belittle his servant so much; it was simply what the knights expected from him. Nonetheless bothered, Merlin firmly held his tongue - not wishing to rile the knights further, or give them something else to harass him for.
Perhaps Merlin was imagining it - and yet, he found it unbearable hard to dismiss the creeping feeling that something terrible was about to occur.
As the group of men focused on leading their horses down the steeply-sloping terrain, a heavy silence settled in the air. Advancing further through the valley, high dirt embankments began to tower above them on both sides, forcing the horses to stumble arduously single-file - Arthur in the lead, following by Merlin and the knights. The air grew colder and the canopy overhead thickened, throwing the path into a dim, dusky shade. Mud and rock pressed in on them from both sides, forcing the convoy relentlessly forward through the narrow, tunnelling corridor. Only with tremendous difficulty could they attempt to turn the horses around in the confined passage.
Everything was humid and heavy; the air, the walls, the waterlogged, winding path they trod. Sweat shone in the sickly half-light, glistening on the knight's skin as they became suddenly aware of the crushing walls that ceased to fluctuate - standing tall and threatening as ever, looming high above their heads.
No one spoke a word, but it surely passed everyone's mind - should something happen, there would be no easy way to escape.
Merlin peered ahead - leaning sideways to look past Arthur, his hair brushing against the rock-wall as he did so - but the path continued undisturbed, before turning a corner and disappearing from view. Snaking vines hung from the bank above, tediously suspended, limp and unmoving as ferns drooped miserably, smeared with mud and heavy with unspoken sadness. Tilting his head back and gazing up, the towering walls consumed Merlin's vision. A strip of canopy - letting in only a meagre amount of light - was all that proved they were still above the ground, and not trudging through some gloomy tunnel or cave underground.
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Heavy is the Head ▻ Merthur
Fanfiction"There is no way Merlin is screwing the Prince of Camelot." ↴ Little did he know, Gawain had never been more wrong. ♖ ♔ ♖ In which Merlin learns love, lust and loss through the wicked hand of his enemies, and Arthur realises that his most corrupt si...
