Once Upon a Camelot Curse - Chapter Twelve
Gwaine hated the dungeons.
There was no reason to be down there except to learn about the perverse way people were tortured back in the day of medieval life. It was far too dank and dark for Gwaine to enjoy any sort of time down there. He had only gone down there once or twice, much to the urging of some of his more attractive fans. It had been pleads and taunts of “Oh Gwaine, I’m too scared to go alone! Come with us!” that had gotten him down there.
Come on. A scared lass? It was the perfect excuse to cuddle close.
But Gwaine much preferred being outside. If he did seclude himself inside, it was always some place like a dark pub or anywhere with liquor to keep him satisfied and entertained.
The dungeon didn’t sell alcohol, much to Gwaine’s dismay.
They were creepy. And as Gwaine approached the castle that housed the dungeons, he suddenly second guessed his whole quest. The idea that Merlin was playing a joke on them was tempting to believe in, although Gwaine knew it was a desperate attempt from his mind to try and stay out of the dungeons. But he knew, deep down, that this was all far too real for Merlin to make up. There were far too many things that were falling into place and clicking like pieces of a puzzle for Gwaine to ignore them and head back to his favorite pub.
He had to continue, though.
Morgana’s men were stationed at the entrance of the castle and Gwaine’s stomach gave a lurch. He wasn’t sure how much Morgana knew of Merlin and his plan, but he was pretty sure that no one was going to be allowed through without some sort of really good reason. Gwaine scanned the area, hoping for some sort of good distraction for the guards, and his gaze landed on the perfect plan.
Hopefully.
“Ladies!” Gwaine cried out, slipping up behind two regally dressed wenches. The girls giggled at him as his arms encircled their waists and he pulled them close. He gave them a wry smile. “How would you like to join me in the dungeon? It’s surely cooler than being out here in the hot sun!”
One of the girls returned the smile and shook her head. “The dungeon costs money, my dear sir, and we have none to spare on dungeons!” Her companion giggled and nodded, golden curls bouncing as she did so.
Gwaine wanted to groan, but held it back. Instead, his smile widened. “Well, then, it’s a good thing I came along! When you are with me, the dungeon is free! What do you think?” He gave them both a wink and began tugging them towards the dungeon entrance, not giving them much of a choice. But their chorus of titters and blushing was the only answer he needed. “Wonderful!”
As they approached the entrance, the guards stood up a bit straighter, their spears crossing to block the archway. Both men were slightly familiar to Gwaine, although only by face and not name, unfortunately. He didn’t hang around with Morgana’s men as much as he knew he probably should have. In retrospect, it would have been a good idea to butter up and become pals with the men who served the woman in charge.
Ah well. In another life.
“No one passes, tomato boy,” one of the guards spoke through his helmet as Gwaine and the girls approached.
“Oh, come now, mate.” Gwaine couldn’t flirt with them, but couldn’t threaten them like he did Lancelot either. Eventually Lancelot was going to come around and alert his friends to Gwaine’s antics, surely, and Gwaine had to act fast. He gave the girls a squeeze, eliciting a mirroring set of excited cries that bubbled into giggles. “I just want to show the girls some of the exhibits. We won’t be too long, I promise.” Unfortunately, neither guard seemed phase by one man’s need to bed pretty wenches and Gwaine wasn’t sure what else he could do. “For me, lads? I’m sure these pretty girls have equally pretty friends you could meet once you get done guarding the queen, right ladies?”
“Ooh! You guard the queen?” The one with blonde curls cooed, her face lighting up at the idea of being with a man who had such power. Gwaine caught sight of one of the guards flushing red. “That’s so fascinating!”
Much to Gwaine’s surprise, the girls detached themselves from his side and immediately latched onto the guards, destroying any sort of fierce façade that the men had. The girls murmured in the guards’ ears and Gwaine took that moment to slip underneath the spears and dart into the darkened entryway of the dungeons.
That was easier than he could have ever thought it to be.
Although he felt a bit hurt that two members of the Queen’s guard trumped his master of ceremonies status. But Gwaine was willing to let that slide in order to get through the door.
The air grew colder as Gwaine descended down the stone stairs into the dungeon below the castle. Usually, voices echoed off of the walls, but Gwaine heard nothing but his own footsteps. The guards must have ushered everyone out of the castle, claiming there to be some sort of unsafe emergency going on downstairs. It wasn’t uncommon for the faire to use guards as medieval caution tape in order to keep tourists out of certain parts of the faire grounds.
And that obviously meant that Gwaine was on the right path.
The electric torches placed throughout the trek down into the dungeons gave off a dull, yellow light, and Gwaine managed to get down to the bottom step without slipping and breaking his neck. Now the problem was finding where Merlin was. First instinct was to step towards the torture chamber exhibits. If Morgana wanted Merlin captured, she probably wanted him restrained as well, and what better way to do that than to use some of the tools that were down in the dungeons?
Luckily for Gwaine, the absence of tourists allowed the only voices downstairs to travel and echo better than they would have before. The sounds bounced off of the walls and drew Gwaine away from the exhibits and towards a hallway he hadn’t noticed the last time he was down here. Granted, the last time he had been down here, he had been a bit distracted by his female companion. A female voice was louder than the other and Gwaine instantly recognized it from their time spent acting out the dramatic scenes during the jousting tournament.
Morgana.
He couldn’t quite hear what was being said, but the tone was enough for him to bolt down the hallway. Doors lined the corridor and all he had to do was follow the volume of the voice getting louder and louder. It didn’t take long to find the door that shielded Morgana. It was interesting that she didn’t have any of her other guards down here to protect her, but that meant she was doing something that she didn’t want anyone to know about.
“Merlin!” He cried out, not caring that he was giving away any sort of surprise. Hopefully it would catch Morgana off guard. Gwaine came to a stop at the door and paused. He was unarmed. No back up. No one even knew he was down here except Lancelot, and Gwaine couldn’t imagine that the bloke was going to help him. Morgana could easily be doing something dangerous.
He was screwed.
However, Gwaine didn’t have much time to rethink his plan or even go back to the exhibits to try and pry a weapon off of the wall when a scream came from behind the wooden door.
“Merlin!” He shouted, charging down the door and connecting with a shoulder, forcing the warped wood to buckle and he stumbled into the room.
There was no reason to be down there except to learn about the perverse way people were tortured back in the day of medieval life. It was far too dank and dark for Gwaine to enjoy any sort of time down there. He had only gone down there once or twice, much to the urging of some of his more attractive fans. It had been pleads and taunts of “Oh Gwaine, I’m too scared to go alone! Come with us!” that had gotten him down there.
Come on. A scared lass? It was the perfect excuse to cuddle close.
But Gwaine much preferred being outside. If he did seclude himself inside, it was always some place like a dark pub or anywhere with liquor to keep him satisfied and entertained.
The dungeon didn’t sell alcohol, much to Gwaine’s dismay.
They were creepy. And as Gwaine approached the castle that housed the dungeons, he suddenly second guessed his whole quest. The idea that Merlin was playing a joke on them was tempting to believe in, although Gwaine knew it was a desperate attempt from his mind to try and stay out of the dungeons. But he knew, deep down, that this was all far too real for Merlin to make up. There were far too many things that were falling into place and clicking like pieces of a puzzle for Gwaine to ignore them and head back to his favorite pub.
He had to continue, though.
Morgana’s men were stationed at the entrance of the castle and Gwaine’s stomach gave a lurch. He wasn’t sure how much Morgana knew of Merlin and his plan, but he was pretty sure that no one was going to be allowed through without some sort of really good reason. Gwaine scanned the area, hoping for some sort of good distraction for the guards, and his gaze landed on the perfect plan.
Hopefully.
“Ladies!” Gwaine cried out, slipping up behind two regally dressed wenches. The girls giggled at him as his arms encircled their waists and he pulled them close. He gave them a wry smile. “How would you like to join me in the dungeon? It’s surely cooler than being out here in the hot sun!”
One of the girls returned the smile and shook her head. “The dungeon costs money, my dear sir, and we have none to spare on dungeons!” Her companion giggled and nodded, golden curls bouncing as she did so.
Gwaine wanted to groan, but held it back. Instead, his smile widened. “Well, then, it’s a good thing I came along! When you are with me, the dungeon is free! What do you think?” He gave them both a wink and began tugging them towards the dungeon entrance, not giving them much of a choice. But their chorus of titters and blushing was the only answer he needed. “Wonderful!”
As they approached the entrance, the guards stood up a bit straighter, their spears crossing to block the archway. Both men were slightly familiar to Gwaine, although only by face and not name, unfortunately. He didn’t hang around with Morgana’s men as much as he knew he probably should have. In retrospect, it would have been a good idea to butter up and become pals with the men who served the woman in charge.
Ah well. In another life.
“No one passes, tomato boy,” one of the guards spoke through his helmet as Gwaine and the girls approached.
“Oh, come now, mate.” Gwaine couldn’t flirt with them, but couldn’t threaten them like he did Lancelot either. Eventually Lancelot was going to come around and alert his friends to Gwaine’s antics, surely, and Gwaine had to act fast. He gave the girls a squeeze, eliciting a mirroring set of excited cries that bubbled into giggles. “I just want to show the girls some of the exhibits. We won’t be too long, I promise.” Unfortunately, neither guard seemed phase by one man’s need to bed pretty wenches and Gwaine wasn’t sure what else he could do. “For me, lads? I’m sure these pretty girls have equally pretty friends you could meet once you get done guarding the queen, right ladies?”
“Ooh! You guard the queen?” The one with blonde curls cooed, her face lighting up at the idea of being with a man who had such power. Gwaine caught sight of one of the guards flushing red. “That’s so fascinating!”
Much to Gwaine’s surprise, the girls detached themselves from his side and immediately latched onto the guards, destroying any sort of fierce façade that the men had. The girls murmured in the guards’ ears and Gwaine took that moment to slip underneath the spears and dart into the darkened entryway of the dungeons.
That was easier than he could have ever thought it to be.
Although he felt a bit hurt that two members of the Queen’s guard trumped his master of ceremonies status. But Gwaine was willing to let that slide in order to get through the door.
The air grew colder as Gwaine descended down the stone stairs into the dungeon below the castle. Usually, voices echoed off of the walls, but Gwaine heard nothing but his own footsteps. The guards must have ushered everyone out of the castle, claiming there to be some sort of unsafe emergency going on downstairs. It wasn’t uncommon for the faire to use guards as medieval caution tape in order to keep tourists out of certain parts of the faire grounds.
And that obviously meant that Gwaine was on the right path.
The electric torches placed throughout the trek down into the dungeons gave off a dull, yellow light, and Gwaine managed to get down to the bottom step without slipping and breaking his neck. Now the problem was finding where Merlin was. First instinct was to step towards the torture chamber exhibits. If Morgana wanted Merlin captured, she probably wanted him restrained as well, and what better way to do that than to use some of the tools that were down in the dungeons?
Luckily for Gwaine, the absence of tourists allowed the only voices downstairs to travel and echo better than they would have before. The sounds bounced off of the walls and drew Gwaine away from the exhibits and towards a hallway he hadn’t noticed the last time he was down here. Granted, the last time he had been down here, he had been a bit distracted by his female companion. A female voice was louder than the other and Gwaine instantly recognized it from their time spent acting out the dramatic scenes during the jousting tournament.
Morgana.
He couldn’t quite hear what was being said, but the tone was enough for him to bolt down the hallway. Doors lined the corridor and all he had to do was follow the volume of the voice getting louder and louder. It didn’t take long to find the door that shielded Morgana. It was interesting that she didn’t have any of her other guards down here to protect her, but that meant she was doing something that she didn’t want anyone to know about.
“Merlin!” He cried out, not caring that he was giving away any sort of surprise. Hopefully it would catch Morgana off guard. Gwaine came to a stop at the door and paused. He was unarmed. No back up. No one even knew he was down here except Lancelot, and Gwaine couldn’t imagine that the bloke was going to help him. Morgana could easily be doing something dangerous.
He was screwed.
However, Gwaine didn’t have much time to rethink his plan or even go back to the exhibits to try and pry a weapon off of the wall when a scream came from behind the wooden door.
“Merlin!” He shouted, charging down the door and connecting with a shoulder, forcing the warped wood to buckle and he stumbled into the room.