Work Text:
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You stand over the well, looking down at the leaf as it drifts over the water’s surface.
("No, please!")
Suddenly, arrows that have long since begun to rot rip ghost wounds through your arms, legs, chest, stomach.
Pain and fear dig icy fingers into your heart as a mother’s desperate plea for her son’s life echoes loudly in your ears.
("No, please, he’s just a boy!")
And it all just comes crashing down on you as tears that are not yours race down your cheeks, as horrible cries that were shouted by someone else are now being ripped from your throat.
You collapse to your knees and choke on body-wracking sobs.
("Mercy!")
You don’t speak to Arthur or any of the knights for the next few days – you can’t even look in their direction without hearing the mothers crying or the children screaming.
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End.