The Red Knight - Merlin BBC [2]

Chapter 10: Ghosts of the Past

Third P.O.V

"So Jackson, what can you tell us about this game of chess?" Arthur enquires.

"Well, I can promise you it's not pretty."

Gwaine grumbles, "Thanks for the help. We kind of figured."

"Gwaine", Arthur hisses over his shoulder.

Jackson chuckles. "Oh, I can see you're the cheerful one."

"You going to help us or not?" Gwaine snaps in frustration.

"Alright then, Sir Loggerhead", Jackson retaliates. His signature smirk grows on his face with the insult. "Don't get your girl's blouse in a twist."

"Oh, you little-" Gwaine takes a step forward to attack Jackson. He doesn't get far before Elyan and Percival are pushing him away from the bars.

Jackson lets out a gruntle chuckle. "Save that energy for the tournament, mate."

"Just you wait. You'll be the first I come for", Gwaine snarls.

Percival holds him back. "Gwaine, calm down."

"He's just trying to get under your skin", Elyan assures.

Arthur leans toward the bars, causing Jackson to flinch away. "You think this is funny, do you? You think a fight to the death is a joke?"

Jackson's smirk falls from his face, more in annoyance than revelation. "You think I want to be here?" he snarls back. "My whole life, prats like you have talked down to me. Pushed me around like a piece of shit. So excuse me if I'm kind of reluctant to tell you all the details about the game you may kill me in."

"We're not trying to offend you", Leon assures, trying to deescalate the situation. "We're just trying to figure out what's going on here."

"Yeah, well, join the line" Jackson rolls his eyes. "Listen. I don't care who you are. And I sure as hell don't care for no tournament. All I know is that anyone who participates in the Red Tournament dies.

"I know that this is cruel entertainment for murderers and psychopaths. It's every man for himself. So...excuse my defensiveness, but blokes like you always turn on scum like me. So why should I tell you anything?"

"You're scared. Aren't you?" Arthur asks, eyes narrowing on the man. Jackson looks tough, the kind to never back down from a fight. Yet here he sits, seeming frustrated and confused as they are.

"Aren't you?" Jackson rebuttals. None of the knights' answer. A tenseness takes the air. "Well, you should be." 

"Oi! Dinner's ready!" a filthy grumbling voice calls from the front of Jackson's cell.

The voice brings Jackson to look once more at the knights with a glare before pulling himself to a stand. He retreats to retrieve his dinner, disappearing.

"Supper boys!" another more shrill voice calls, appearing at the cell door to the Knight's cell. All five knights stand, keeping their distance as the man pushes five tiny bowls through a small door. "Enjoy", he chuckles, wiping snot from his nose.

Leon is the first to walk forward, picking up on the bowls to check the contents inside. The others follow behind reluctantly as Leon sniffs the soup. If that's what you can call it. His face scrunches with disgust. It's thick and brown, reminiscent of streaky meat, and great clumps of what Leon prays is potato.

Percival is the first to take a sip, squinting in disgust. His face falls in confusion, eyebrow raised. "That's... not that bad."

That's all it takes for Gwaine to stuff his face, realising how hungry he is with the presence of food. The others start to eat their supper as they sit around the cell in silence. They take a moment to enjoy the feeling of filling their stomachs after a long and agonising day.