[FIC] Tragedy of Dreamers (Percival; R)
Author/Artist: word_never_said
Title: Tragedy of Dreamers
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Sir Percival, Mysterious female...DUN DUN DUN..., also Merlin, Lancelot, Elyan, Gwaine, and a wee bit of Arthur.
Rating: R, violent but we’re not talking Quentin Tarantino here.
Summary: Percival begins to deal with the loss of his family.
Warnings (if any): Not too much, if I’ve done my job right, it’ll be rather emotional and violent but nothing other than that.
Total word count: 7,001
Original prompt number: 186 - Submitted by eurydice72
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by the BBC and Shine TV. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's/artist's notes (if any): I wanted to thank the prompter! I’ve been thinking about Percival’s backstory for so long and this was a wonderful opportunity to play with it. I hope it’s something of what you wanted. Also, took some liberty with the ‘living dead’, hope it works. Italics are flashbacks/dreams and emphasis, obviously. ;
Beta(s): The totally amazing, wonderfully supportive han_corrupted Thank you for all the support, help and feedback--you’re a wonderful beta!
Tragedy of Dreamers
Percival could barely see through the thick smoke. He could see houses alight through the darkness which helped guide him and his brother. Voices could be heard all around him but he couldn’t get to them. His elder brother Bryce stood next to him, it was hard to hear what he was telling him.
“Go find Ma and the little ones, I’ll find Pa and hold ‘em off,” Bryce said before disappearing into to fog.
Percival moved through the smoke, axe drawn, when he heard a familiar voice: “GET OUT OF MY HOME,” then there was a piercing scream. Percival moved through the crowd, knocking down those who were looting and setting fire to the village as he moved.
“MA!” he yelled, but there was no response and he moved quicker, adrenalin pumping through his veins as he approached his house. One of the men stood at the doorway and without thinking, Percival struck his side with his axe. The man fell to his knees trying to swing at him before Percival thrust a fatal blow at his neck. Wiping the blood from his cheek he moved into his house, noticing how it was filling rapidly with smoke.
“MA!”
Percival woke with a jolt, finding himself in the barracks that the new knights had been sleeping in since their arrival into Camelot, not seven months ago. Looking around he saw that Elyan had made his way back from his patrol and was catching up on some much needed sleep. Ever since they entered the city, the past events with Morgana had many people in Camelot worried about its future. With King Uther no longer being able to rule as he once had, Arthur had stepped up and taken charge. Much of the ruined Great Hall and throne room was being rebuilt, using local workers as well as a patrol in the village itself. It was doubtful that Morgana would be brazen enough to simply walk back into Camelot after all that had happened, but to ease the mind of the villagers a patrol within the city was properly set up in addition to the nightly watch.
A lot had been done to rebuild the faith in Uther’s rule-although most knew it was in name only that he now ruled. Gwen had convinced Arthur, with Merlin’s support, that having the villagers on their side was not all that they needed. They needed to quell fear and see how they were to be protected in the future, which lead to very busy and tired knights as well as the guards. The knights were still patrolling outside of Camelot, seeking Morgana, but as of now there had been no word.
Knowing that sleep would not come again Percival threw his tunic on before making his way outside along the turrets of the high castle walls. He found a secluded spot and leaned out over the edge, looking into the darkness, his trained eyes seeing nothing, but alert for anything.
“Still on duty then?” he asked aloud not bothering to face the newcomer. Lancelot chuckled as he approached his friend.
“You can see that for yourself,” Lancelot replied, a smile on his face as he stood next to his friend, mimicking his stance. “Nightmare?” he asked, quietly.
Percival nodded, barely moving his head, not breaking his gaze into the distance. Lancelot knew Percival before Morgana’s evil take over sent Arthur into hiding and in need of help; the Percival he had first met was talkative, chatty even. Since his family was murdered he often withdrew into himself. Not one to push the subject Lancelot let it be, but he could see his friend suffering and he hated not being able to do anything for him.
“Looks like your evening meal has arrived,” Percival finally said as Merlin approached, holding what he assumed to be leftovers. Lancelot looked to his left as his friend came closer, smiling at the sight of the friendly face.
“Merlin, I was just mentioning to Percival here---” Lancelot was cut off by a pat on the shoulder.
“I’ll be off,” Percival said, nodding to Merlin. “Does Arthur let you rest?” he asked in passing, a small smile on his face as he saw the bags under Merlin eyes.
“I’d say yes, but I think we all know the answer,” the wizard said with a tired smile to Percival as he walked away.
Lancelot and Merlin stood watching his figure retreat before Lancelot sighed woefully, turning back out into the darkness beyond the city walls.
Merlin took out the cold meat handing it Lancelot. “Need to keep up your strength,” he said to his friend. Lancelot smiled at his friend accepting it gratefully.
“Couldn’t I say the same for you?” he asked. Merlin simply nodded in response as Lancelot ate.
“Didn’t Percival just finish his rounds?” Merlin asked after a moment. Lancelot nodded as he chewed, after a moment he swallowed. “Now that I think on it, I see him most nights. Is something going on that I should know about? I mean, I know Arthur would want to kno-“ he was cut off when Lancelot turned to him, one eyebrow raised. “He cares! He’s just, he-“
“He’s got a lot more to deal with than a knight who can’t sleep,” Lancelot filled in for his friend. Merlin nodded his agreement.
“Can’t or won’t?” Merlin asked looking at his friend. Lancelot thought about it for a moment before responding.
“Honestly? I’m not sure.”
Merlin nodded, “I can’t begin to imagine what happened. Can’t say I blame him,” he said.
“Nor do I,” Lancelot responded.
-----------------------------------
Days passed, as days do, often bleeding into one another in an endless way. Rebuilding Camelot, the night watch and the patrols that went out in search of Morgana kept Percival’s mind occupied for a great deal of time. He was able to find some peace during his time in the forest, a few hours of shut-eye beneath the stars before being woken up or in most cases waking himself, to take his turn on patrol while the others slept around their makeshift camp. However, now back within the city walls the peace he felt, what little he clung to, slipped away slowly each night.
Percival crouched low to try and see through the fog of smoke the poured through the house. As he moved further into his home the smoke became thicker, he could just barely make out what was in front of his feet, and before he realized he came across one of the intruders standing in front of his sister, Winifred, her feet just barely visible.
“Give it here, girly,” the man said in a gruff voice, moving closer to his sister.
“Stay back,” she said in a voice all together unfamiliar to Percival. She sounded weak, sick, vulnerable. The man laughed at this and as he moved to lunge Percival cut his legs, standing and disarming the man before stabbing him. The intruder fell to the floor and Percival moved to Winifred.
It was then he saw why she sounded so different. Her shirt was covered in blood; it was still trickling out of her as she crouched in the corner. She tried to take a deep breath but the smoke caused her to cough.
“Percival?” she asked softly, looking up at him with big scared eyes as she wiped the blood she had coughed up away from her mouth.
“Winni, I’m going to keep you safe,” he said holding his sister tight to him before lifting her up and carrying her out of the house.
“No, we can’t leave them!” She cried, coughing up more blood as she tried to kick herself out of his tight grasp.
“What are you talking about?” Percival asked, trying not to sound frantic.
“Mum, she’s in there with Eddy and Ara,” she said in a quiet ragged voice. Percival could feel his hands becoming wet, her blood spilling onto him. He kept one hand on her wound, but it was too late.
“Winni, I’m going to get them, you have to stay with me though. Be strong,” he said placing her behind their neighbors’ now emptied barn.
“Just get them,” she said quietly taking his hand from her wound, her words barely audible above all the noise around them.
“Promise me,” he cried, squeezing her hand as he cradled her.
“PERCIVAL!”
He heard his name being called and he knew he had to help but he couldn’t bear to leave her. “Go,” she said, with a small smile on her lips. “Percival.”
“Oi, Percival!”
Percival sat up in his bed, body tense and covered in sweat. Looking around he calmed himself enough to realize he was in no immediate danger before a blanket was thrown at him.
“You were talking again,” Gwaine groaned, his head barely coming up from his pillow.
“Sorry mate,” Percival said.
“Hrrummph,” was all he got in response before Gwaine turned onto his side.
Percival looked around the small room; his mind unable to stop it’s processing but quickly running out of things to occupy itself with. Deciding that sleep was, once again, not going to happen, he left the room. Looking around the seemingly empty castle Percival felt the need to escape creeping up on him. Someone approached him, they addressed him but he couldn’t seem to register the words. After a strange look, Percival simply nodded in response before taking off to the stables.
Meeting no one, he was able to quickly saddle and mount his horse before kicking his heels and heading out of the gates of Camelot. Lancelot watched as his friend galloped out of the city, Elyan stood next to him, a confused look upon his face.
“I think his nightmares are catching up with him,” was all Lancelot said, patting his friend on the shoulder as he took over the night watch.
“What are you on about?” Elyan asked, looking between Lancelot and the fading figure of Percival.
“Nothing, it’s nothing. If he’s not back by morning call, inform me.” Elyan nodded to Lancelot as he headed back to their barracks before the oncoming clouds opened up on them both.
After a while Percival came to a halt, fresh air filling his lungs as he took a deep breath. He kicked his heels to get his horse going again, the horse however seemed to have a mind of its own and turned left, wandering aimlessly down what seemed to be a forgotten path. After a few minutes the forest cleared and he came to a lake. Dismounting, he let his horse recuperate, settling down against a rock looking out over the calm unmoving water. Here there was nothing demanding his attention, nothing urgent to take care of. Despite the welcome distraction Camelot was, he was tired. He was exhausted really. He barely slept as it was; his dreams had becoming more frequent as he settled into Camelot. He trusted his new friends, his fellow knights, but talking to them about this, it was different. Only Lancelot knew about it, well, he only told Lancelot about it. Percival was sure the others knew something of the matter. But even then, he had to be strong. He had made a name for himself and he knew if he spoke about it, he would be unable to keep it together for long.
His gaze was focused but his eyes drifted shut after sometime, and after a long and pointless fight with himself he let them stayed shut. How long they remained shut he was unsure, it was still dark out and the clouds had moved in overhead when he first noticed it. There were ripples on the lake, coming from random points, but all in the same area. It was fuzzy at first; he had to blink his eyes in order to be sure. Someone was skipping stones. Getting up quickly he checked his horse - still comfortable by the shrubs, eating leaves - before he moved in the direction of the person or persons. From where he stood there was too much in his line of sight and in the cover of darkness he could not be sure of anything.
Slowing his footsteps he drew his sword, carefully coming closer, walking around to see if there was a camp of some sort. Securing the area and only seeing a horse he approached the tree that a lone figure was sitting by. He approached, sword at the ready.
“What are you doing at this time of night?”
The figure dropped the stone mid-throw. Percival moved the sword closer to the figure’s head when the hooded figure let out a squeal, turning to face Percival but getting no further than the sword pointed in the figure’s face.
“Ohhhh, eh, no need for all of this,” it said motioning one hand towards his sword, the other trying to feel out more ground in an attempt to put more space between their face and sword.
In an attempt to gain space the figure bent their knees, digging their heels into the ground to propel backwards. In the process one foot caught on the cape, choking the figure until they loosened it. Coughing in an attempt to clear their voice the hood fell away and Percival realized he was holding a sword to a woman.
“No,” she coughed, looking at the dumbfounded knight. “Really, I’m fine,” she said using one arm to feel for her canteen.
“Oh!” Percival jolted out of his stupor sheathed his sword and grabbed her water canteen, handing it to her.
Taking it from his hands, she drank as he watched her, occasionally glancing around the area. Once she drunk her fill she took a look at the man standing in front of her, apparently looking for something or someone.
“You alright over there?” she asked, one eyebrow furrowed.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Percival asked. The woman shrugged in response but said nothing. “I just---it’s not safe for you to be alone out here, so I assumed you’d have someone with you,” he explained.
“Well, if I did, they clearly won’t be for long since you so easily had me at sword point,” she laughed.
Percival stared at her for a moment. It had been a while since he heard a woman laugh, even longer since he caused it in some way. Guinevere smiled of course, she’d laugh at Merlin’s antics, or something Arthur said, but besides the antics the knights found themselves in (or made) laughter had been pretty rare since he arrived, even rarer since he lost his family.
“Then why’d you risk coming out alone?” he asked her moving to sit next to her, confused and a little more than intrigued.
The woman pursed her lips, looking from him to the lake. They sat in silence for a moment before she spoke.
“I felt my need to be away from prying eyes outweighed the danger. I felt caged, I guess,” she said, wrapping her arms around her knees. “I know it sounds strange but it’s the only way I can describe it. Almost if all the air around me just left,” she went on as Percival simply stared.
She had stopped talking, Percival knew that, it was his turn to speak as she finally turned to look at him but he just couldn’t stop himself from staring at her.
“Stranger than I thought, it seems. It’s rude to stare you know,” she said when Percival remained silent.
“No, it’s just that--I didn’t think anyone else felt that way,” Percival said when his senses returned to him, finding his hands rather interesting for the moment.
“Oh,” she responded. Looking at the man sitting next to her she moved close to him and spoke softly. “I’m glad I’m not the only one too.”
He stopped fiddling with his hands to look at the woman sitting next to him, a genuine smile on his face. “Me too.”
The two sat in silence for a while, neither willing to address the bigger question of why they both found themselves here.
“I come here to be with my Mother,” she said quietly, breaking the silence after a moment.
Percival started looking around, rather confused, before going to put more distance between the two of them, but stopped when he heard her laughing.
“No,” she said, shaking her head, the hood falling back completely. “My mother died, when I was born, I never met her,” she explained. “My father told me that they met here. Something about her family wanting her to marry someone else, so they’d meet here in secret,” she said softly. “So you won’t see anyone, well, not anyone I invited. That’s for sure,” she smiled a sad smile at him, before perching her head on her knees.
“But you have stories about her?” he asked.
She bobbed her head side to side. “Not really stories per say, aside from that. And to be honest I don’t know how much of that was my father telling his daughter wanted to hear,” she explained, moving to lean against the trunk of the tree. “I know they met here. Beyond that, I don’t think it matters,” she went on, turning to face him.
“But how do you know that much is true? Or anything else about her?” he pressed. No longer having his family was bad enough but the thought that he never had them, to not know his father, seemed wrong.
“I know because of this knot on the tree,” she said scooting forward and away from the roots. “I love my father, but he’s not imaginative enough to have come up with it out of nowhere,” she said, pointing out the roots that were visible above ground.
“It’s a heart,” she said, tracing the area with her fingers as Percival looked. “Besides from when and how they met, he doesn’t tell me and I don’t ask, I think it’s too painful,” she explained simply before settling back over the knot in the tree.
“But aren’t the least bit curious? I mean, she’s your mother,” he said before he could stop himself. They sat there in silence for a while. Percival staring at her, and she simply looked out over the lake. “What I meant, was that, I don’t think I could be as calm about the whole thing if it were me,” he said in a soft voice.
She said nothing, which made Percival’s stomach lurch horribly. Leaning forward she took the stone she had held before, aimed and threw the stone across the lake. They both watched it skip. Once, twice, thrice, and a final fourth time before it made a plunk sound and fell into the lake.
“I accept that to bring me into this world, she had to be taken from it,” she said in a quiet voice as she turned to face him. “I don’t like it, but it’s fact. I know there is nothing that will bring her back, and I know that my presence although comforting, is also painful to my father,” she said. “Besides, there are other ways to find things out,” she stated simply.
They sat together in silence for a while, watching the moon and cloud reflected over the lake.
“You never told me why you’re here,” she said suddenly, turning once again to face him. He looked at her but said nothing. Percival had hoped that saying nothing would make it obvious that he didn’t want to talk about it. But he had hoped in vain. She kept staring at him, looking him in the eyes quite directly.
It was then he noticed that her eyes were wet. Or rather they had been wet. He made her cry, and with that knowledge he had to say something.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said gruffly, turning his head back to the lake and wrapping his arms around himself to keep out the cold. In his need to get out of the city he forgot to grab his cape.
This explanation didn’t seem to stave off her gaze, as he felt it on the back of his neck. When he finally looked back at her, her eyebrows raised in question.
“Nightmares?” she asked once he faced her again. She studied his face carefully for his reaction, which she needn't have done since his surprise was clear. He nodded in the affirmative. She continued to look up at him, saying nothing but the look on her face pressed him to continue speaking and he felt inclined to, more so than he had with Lancelot.
“About my family,” he finally said, seeing the small pile of stones she had collected and picked one up.
“What about them?” she asked, her voice was still quiet but it was different, hesitant almost. He looked away from her, his eyes glued to the lake. He kept the stone in his hand, running his fingers across the surface.
“They were murdered,” he finally said, even to his own ears his voice sounded surprisingly detached. He kept his eyes on the lake ahead, but he heard her intake of breath. “We lived in one of the border villages, and it’s a logical route for Cenred’s men to pass en route to Camelot,” he continued on when she said nothing.
“Where you...I mean, how did you...” she rambled on in an attempt to find the right words to ask her question, but Percival knew that there was no such thing.
“I was in the forest, a league off with my brother. We were gathering wood to use and sell. When I got there it was...” he faltered. He knew, he knew what he was going to say. He knew it because he lived it, every day of his life; but saying it aloud, to another person, was more difficult than he realized. “I was too late.” He stopped when he felt a sudden warmth. When he turned he saw she put her hand on his arm, he looked at her with a strange look on his face but when he saw her eyes he regretted it.
Her eyes were large a hazel green color by the looks of it. They showed him nothing but empathy. She said nothing but moved her thumb over his arm in a comforting motion and Percival felt the dam inside of him break.
“We were getting ready for the winter, my younger siblings were gathering the remaining food we grew. My elder brother, Bryce, he and I...” he trailed off, unable to look her in the eyes, he focused on her hand. “By the time we saw the smoke, we-” he couldn’t finish it. For the second time tonight he felt the air leave his lungs.
“It’s alright,” she said in a soothing voice. “Slow, deep breathes,” she added, biting her lip.
After a few moments he regained his breath, his throat relaxed but his body was still tense. Her hand was still on his arm.
“Bryce and I, we split up and he went to go find our Pa, while I went in search of my Mum and siblings. The smoke was so dense I could barely see my feet in front of me. It worked to my advantage, at least I was able to surprise one of his men, although at the time it didn’t stop them any,” he said explained. “I took down one of the riders, thought I’d done a number on him - it stopped him for the moment. But I heard my Ma yelling, then there was this scream, the likes of which I never heard another living person make. I knew it was her,” he said looking back at the woman.
“You see, my Pa, he was the sort who would go fight the enemy in the streets, for the village, while my Ma held down the house. I knew she was protecting them and I ran, I don’t think I’ve ever run that fast for anything. There where men everywhere; running about, on horseback. I swung my axe at anything that moved. If I had been paying more attention maybe I would have seen that they should have been dead, that they had already sustained wounds that any normal person would have died of . But I didn’t, you see, I just kept running. I had to get to them, I had to save them.” As he spoke, his voice became more panicked and it made his words come out even quicker.
“There was a man in the doorway. I just swung, he didn’t go down when I sliced his side and he fell to his knees and I swung at his neck. He fell, there was blood everywhere, I just assumed he was dead,” he explained, one hand rubbing the back of his head. “I found my sister; she was trying to protect one of the few valuable things we had. She wouldn’t give it up. there was this brute of a man and he’d cornered her. I was crouching low you see, the smoke was so thick-they’d set fire to everything. What they didn’t, caught fire anyway,” and it spread faster than they could loot. She held this little medal, it was my Pa’s, in her hands. She wouldn’t give it to him and I was able to knock him down before he could do anything - more,” he said, finding the last word the most difficult.
“I got her out, I carried her to where I thought she’d be safe but she’d already been stabbed.” Percival rubbed his face with his hand, the images ingrained in his mind. It was only when he felt the dampness on his hand that he realized he was crying.
The young woman stayed silent, her eyes glued to the man sitting beside her. Her hand never left his arm.
“She told me to go back - that the others were in there, but I couldn’t leave her. But she knew, she just... she knew she wasn’t going to make it. She made me promise to go back and get the others. I made her promise to be strong. I sat there, in a pool of her blood- like an idiot refusing to acknowledge that my sister, was...that she, wasn’t going to-” he couldn’t get the words out, nor did he need to.
He was shaking, whether from the cold or emotion she didn’t know but she unclasped her cloak and moved to wrap it around them both. It was snug, but it worked.
The sudden warmth startled Percival out of his ravine. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, wiping his hands across his eyes.
“Well, I can’t very well let you turn blue,” she said matter-of-factly.
Percival actually cracked a small smile at her tone, before going on. “I thank you, but I meant, this whole, you don’t have to listen to me,” he finally clarified, looking at her once more.
She took a deep breath before looking back at him. He saw that she was crying as well, but her face showed nothing to give her emotions away aside from the wetness on her cheeks. She moved her hand more comfortably around his arm before speaking.
“Someone should,” she said wiping a stray tear away before looking up at him once more to continue.
“She died in my arms, my sister, tough as any man, and in many ways far more terrifying,” he confessed, a small smile crossing his face. “But watching her, I couldn’t do anything. I’m supposed to protect them-I’m their older brother,” Percival said, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.
“So your siblings they-”
He nodded, barely moving his head. “I went back for them, I promised her I’d save them. She made me go back but when I got to the house they were gone. When I finally found them...my Mum was holding my youngest siblings, Arabella and Edmund. Bryce had found Pa, but he was too late. Mum was bleeding everywhere and crying. They were all crying, Bryce held my Pa while he died, Mum tried to shield Ara and Edmund. She tried to convince them to run, to leave them, but I don’t think Bryce heard it,” he said looking at the lake but not seeing it.
“Bryce took on the first men he saw, I tried to get to them but there were men everywhere, I wasn’t fast enough. Men circled around him, but he fell,” he said softy. “It’s just-how is it that he died when he taught me everything? He was a better fighter than me, faster, but I lived and he-he died,” he wiped the tears from his eyes.
“He looked at me, he saw me, I was almost by him when he fell. It was, like in a story you hear, how the knight fights evil with everything he has. And just as the tide turns, everything looks bad, good prevails. He got up,” Percival explained sadly. “Our eyes met as his knees hit the ground, he breathed in the smoke around him and got up. He kept fighting, he kept them distracted so I could get to Ara and Edmund, so I could get them out. He died to keep me alive, to give me a chance to save them, and I couldn’t even do that! I called out to them as they ran towards the forest but I wasn’t quick enough. Men had surrounded us thoroughly, I heard their screams.” He stopped, wiping his eyes at this point. The rock he had held previously, he threw into the lake.
“I kept going, I fought my way to them but there were so many-a friend had to pull me away. Then they were gone. As quickly as they had arrived, they left. There was no village, no houses. Farms were destroyed, it was a smoldering wreck,” he said as the clouds started to open up. The clouds had built thorough out the night, and rain came pouring down in sheets. Neither one moved, the canopy of the tree giving them enough of a shelter as to not be completely soaked. For a while they watched the rain come down, diagonal sheets of droplets that seemed to dance across the lake. It was her who broke the silence.
“How did you end up here then?” she asked, her arm furthest away from him pulling the cloak tighter.
“My friend, the one who pulled me away, he’s sort of a wanderer and I realized I had nothing left but anger. Staying there wouldn’t help. He was called to Camelot to-” Percival cut himself off quickly. “To help a friend. When we went through the village, checking for survivors I saw Cenred’s crest. The letter he got, not two days after was to help fight Cenred’s men,” he explained. There was no need to explain the specifics; the two felt at ease with one another- mentioning names, insinuating that he was a knight could ruin it. That was something Percival didn’t have the heart to do.
“And you won!” she said in a quiet but obviously happy voice. “There isn’t a greater reward, is there? To fight for your loved ones, win and survive?”
“But that’s just it-I shouldn’t have survived,” he said in a barely audible voice. “I should have died, I should be with them.” His hand covered his face, as fresh tears came. Facing her once more he explained. “I’m not the best fighter-Bryce was, I should have died. For whatever reason I was forced to watch my family die. And when I sought my revenge, I went in accepting, knowing, I would die. I would do what I should have done for them the first time.”
As many times as he had thought it, he had never shared it with anyone. The weight of surviving without his family, keeping it in, feeling as if he should have died and was undeserving of what he had now, had been slowly eating at him.
“Oh, oh... Oh no,” she said, crying herself but unsure of what to say or do to stop his tears. Panicking, she looked around, not knowing what she expected to find before she did the only thing that occurred to her. She wrapped both arms around him and held him while he cried. She perched her head on top of his, stoking his arm with her hand.
“It’s okay,” she said softly against the side of his head. “Just let it out.”
He wrapped his hand around one of her arms and they stayed like that. How long it had been, neither one was sure but her knees hurt when Percival finally let go of her arm and she sat down again.
“For what it’s worth, I think your family would be happy,” she said ,looking from her hands, which for the moment held great interest to her, to his face. “They clearly loved you, they would want you to live on for them,” she explained. Percival nodded. “And I think they’d be upset in knowing that you blame yourself. You have been given a second chance here,” she went on. Percival looked at her as if he had been burned.
“I’m not saying it’s easy, I can’t begin to imagine the things you saw. Nor can I bear to think how that must haunt you, I thought being the reason my mother died was bad enough,” she said with a sad sort of laugh.
“You’re not-”
She put her hand to his mouth to stop him. “We’re not talking about me here,” she explained before going on. “As difficult as it may be, you need to keep going. This happened what, over a year ago now, I’m not saying you shouldn’t mourn them, but you can’t live your life mourning them,” she finally said.
Percival stared at her for a while. She was right. It hurt but she was right. “You’re the first person I’ve told,” he finally said. Her head jerked up and stared at him in shock.
“Me?” she asked incredulously and he nodded.
“I think people know, they’ve guessed, but they don’t know,” he went on as she continued to stare at him.
“But...but why?” she finally stammer out, to which Percival shrugged.
“In what I do now, I need to be seen as strong, as someone who can protect others. I suppose it’s how I do penance. Either way, it is not where anyone feels at ease to open up. Particularly if this is how it ends,” he said referring to his tears.
“You have nothing to pay penance for!” she cried. Percival went to talk but she wouldn’t allow it. “Look, you did your best, but did they die at your hands? Your sword? Were Cenred’s men there because of you? You did more than most could. Thinking like that will get you into an early grave. I, for one, don’t think you deserve that, nor do I think your family would! As hard as this is, and as cold and cruel as this may sound, you need to snap out of it!” she cried, staring him straight in the eyes.
Immediately she covered her mouth with her hands. They stared at each other in silence for a while, the rain softening, but the angle changing and beginning to hit them. Both where shocked by what she had said, and more so, how she had said it.
“I’m, I-” she stammered.
“My Mum would have liked you,” Percival finally said, a small smile on his face. Her head perked up and she let out a sigh of relief. “Your half of the cloak is loose,” he said, wrapping an arm around her to pull her in.
The rain continued. They sat curled close together, watching the rain fall in endless streams. Whose eyes closed first, neither knew, but she woke to realize the sun had started to peek through the trees. Prodding him in the stomach, Percival woke up to a bright pair of hazel green eyes looking at him.
“It’s daylight,” she said softly. Percival groaned and rubbed his eyes with the hand not wrapped around her. “Sleep alright?” she asked him hopefully and he nodded.
“For the first time, in a long time, yeah. I did.” She grinned widely at the news.
“I’m glad for it. You clearly needed it, but I think we should be off,” she said.
“You’re right, we should.” But neither moved; both seemed content to sit in silence with the other.
The rain had nearly stopped, most of the clouds had gone. She curled into his side and he pulled her closer to have her head rest on his shoulder. How long they had dozed for they didn’t know, but Percival heard hoofs and footsteps approaching fast. Not wanting to alarm her, he wrapped her in a blanket and stood ready to defend them both when he saw the colors of Camelot.
“Percival?” Lancelot’s voice was quiet as he approached.
“Lancelot?” Percival relaxed when he saw his friend.
“Where the hell have you been, we sent Arthur in the other direction-”
“Arthur?” he repeated, more than a little surprised.
“He thought Morgana might have gotten you,” an out of breath Merlin said, appearing fast behind Lancelot.
“Well, as you can both see, I’m fine,” Percival said, smiling and trying to avoid them seeing what -or rather who he was standing behind. But it was not to be. Having attempted to move, she fell to her side with a loud “oooofff”.
“What the-” she suddenly noticed that they were no longer alone, and in a failed maneuver thought that covering her face with her cape would make her invisible.
Merlin and Lancelot each looked around the towering man and saw the blonde hair and female cloak before looking at each other, then to Percival. Lancelot smiled at his large friend who was slowly becoming redder.
“I can see you’re fine,” he said in an attempt to keep a straight face.
“I didn’t think you were into blondes,” Merlin said, biting the inside of his cheek and trying not to look at Lancelot to keep his laughter in.
“Both of you-” but Percival was cut off by Merlin’s exclamation.
“PRINCESS ELENA?!”
The blonde froze in her attempt to stand, before slowly turning around. All four of them stood stock still as they heard Arthur’s voice not too far off. Not failing to take in the appearance of the man at Merlin’s side and how they all spoke, she made a few conclusions of her own.
“I see we have some formal introductions to make, if we’re going to get out of here without too much of a debacle?” she said calmly, securing her cape and moving to stand next to Percival.
Merlin took a moment to make the proper introductions. After a moment, an idea was hatched to distract Arthur long enough to allow Elena enough time to leave without being caught. Lancelot stood a bit off while she and Percival said their goodbyes.
“Princess Elena?” he said after a moment. She nodded.
“Sir Percival?” His smile was small, and he nodded. “Promise me you’ll try to move forward, live for them?” she asked him after re-buckling her saddle.
“I’ll try, but,” he wavered as her foot reached the saddle. She stopped and turned to face him, one hand on her hip.
“But what?” she asked, eyebrows raised.
“It’ll be tough, perhaps a bit of a reminder might be in order?” he asked, not even trying to hide his smirk. She laughed loudly, before remembering she had to be quiet and covered her mouth.
“That could be arranged,” she smiled brightly, before she mounted her horse. He watched her before grabbing her hand and kissing it. She was going to say something more but Lancelot emerged, the look on his face enough to tell them they had to hurry up. Lancelot bowed as she took the reins, her head inclined as formal recognition of his rank. Turning her horse around, she bent down to kiss Percival’s cheek before heading home.
Merlin approaching them as she left, the three watched as she became more and more of a blur in the distance.
“MERLIN!” Arthur bellowed. The three decided Elena was clear of being caught, so they returned.
After a minor berating, the group left to return to Camelot, Percival stayed silent as they entered the gates of Camelot.
“So, do you want to tal-” Lancelot’s voice pulled Percival from his day dreams.
“Nope,” he responded simple, the small smile that hadn’t left his face more pronounced.
“Not even-”
“No,” Percival repeated, more seriously this time.
“Look, you’ve got to talk to someone about what happened-it’s tragic, your family, the village,” Lancelot went on, his next words quieter as they passed people. “Perhaps even more so than Arthur’s, but as your friend, sneaking out and doing whatever with,” he stalled here. It was evident that Percival didn’t know who she was until this morning, but the original words didn’t seem appropriate. “With, whomever, isn’t helping you’re onl-”
“I did,” he said in a voice that startled Lancelot. “I have someone to talk to,” was all he said before galloping a pace a head of his friend. Lancelot stared in wonder as he went off. Percival took a breath and looked back at his friend. “Besides, she’s a great deal prettier than you!” he said with a grin before heading to the stables.
Although apprehensive at first, Lancelot began to accept that he’d found someone in which to confide in that wasn’t himself. Percival’s smile said a great deal, and he left it at that as he kicked his horse ahead.
Title: Tragedy of Dreamers
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Sir Percival, Mysterious female...DUN DUN DUN..., also Merlin, Lancelot, Elyan, Gwaine, and a wee bit of Arthur.
Rating: R, violent but we’re not talking Quentin Tarantino here.
Summary: Percival begins to deal with the loss of his family.
Warnings (if any): Not too much, if I’ve done my job right, it’ll be rather emotional and violent but nothing other than that.
Total word count: 7,001
Original prompt number: 186 - Submitted by eurydice72
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by the BBC and Shine TV. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's/artist's notes (if any): I wanted to thank the prompter! I’ve been thinking about Percival’s backstory for so long and this was a wonderful opportunity to play with it. I hope it’s something of what you wanted. Also, took some liberty with the ‘living dead’, hope it works. Italics are flashbacks/dreams and emphasis, obviously. ;
Beta(s): The totally amazing, wonderfully supportive han_corrupted Thank you for all the support, help and feedback--you’re a wonderful beta!
Tragedy of Dreamers
Percival could barely see through the thick smoke. He could see houses alight through the darkness which helped guide him and his brother. Voices could be heard all around him but he couldn’t get to them. His elder brother Bryce stood next to him, it was hard to hear what he was telling him.
“Go find Ma and the little ones, I’ll find Pa and hold ‘em off,” Bryce said before disappearing into to fog.
Percival moved through the smoke, axe drawn, when he heard a familiar voice: “GET OUT OF MY HOME,” then there was a piercing scream. Percival moved through the crowd, knocking down those who were looting and setting fire to the village as he moved.
“MA!” he yelled, but there was no response and he moved quicker, adrenalin pumping through his veins as he approached his house. One of the men stood at the doorway and without thinking, Percival struck his side with his axe. The man fell to his knees trying to swing at him before Percival thrust a fatal blow at his neck. Wiping the blood from his cheek he moved into his house, noticing how it was filling rapidly with smoke.
“MA!”
Percival woke with a jolt, finding himself in the barracks that the new knights had been sleeping in since their arrival into Camelot, not seven months ago. Looking around he saw that Elyan had made his way back from his patrol and was catching up on some much needed sleep. Ever since they entered the city, the past events with Morgana had many people in Camelot worried about its future. With King Uther no longer being able to rule as he once had, Arthur had stepped up and taken charge. Much of the ruined Great Hall and throne room was being rebuilt, using local workers as well as a patrol in the village itself. It was doubtful that Morgana would be brazen enough to simply walk back into Camelot after all that had happened, but to ease the mind of the villagers a patrol within the city was properly set up in addition to the nightly watch.
A lot had been done to rebuild the faith in Uther’s rule-although most knew it was in name only that he now ruled. Gwen had convinced Arthur, with Merlin’s support, that having the villagers on their side was not all that they needed. They needed to quell fear and see how they were to be protected in the future, which lead to very busy and tired knights as well as the guards. The knights were still patrolling outside of Camelot, seeking Morgana, but as of now there had been no word.
Knowing that sleep would not come again Percival threw his tunic on before making his way outside along the turrets of the high castle walls. He found a secluded spot and leaned out over the edge, looking into the darkness, his trained eyes seeing nothing, but alert for anything.
“Still on duty then?” he asked aloud not bothering to face the newcomer. Lancelot chuckled as he approached his friend.
“You can see that for yourself,” Lancelot replied, a smile on his face as he stood next to his friend, mimicking his stance. “Nightmare?” he asked, quietly.
Percival nodded, barely moving his head, not breaking his gaze into the distance. Lancelot knew Percival before Morgana’s evil take over sent Arthur into hiding and in need of help; the Percival he had first met was talkative, chatty even. Since his family was murdered he often withdrew into himself. Not one to push the subject Lancelot let it be, but he could see his friend suffering and he hated not being able to do anything for him.
“Looks like your evening meal has arrived,” Percival finally said as Merlin approached, holding what he assumed to be leftovers. Lancelot looked to his left as his friend came closer, smiling at the sight of the friendly face.
“Merlin, I was just mentioning to Percival here---” Lancelot was cut off by a pat on the shoulder.
“I’ll be off,” Percival said, nodding to Merlin. “Does Arthur let you rest?” he asked in passing, a small smile on his face as he saw the bags under Merlin eyes.
“I’d say yes, but I think we all know the answer,” the wizard said with a tired smile to Percival as he walked away.
Lancelot and Merlin stood watching his figure retreat before Lancelot sighed woefully, turning back out into the darkness beyond the city walls.
Merlin took out the cold meat handing it Lancelot. “Need to keep up your strength,” he said to his friend. Lancelot smiled at his friend accepting it gratefully.
“Couldn’t I say the same for you?” he asked. Merlin simply nodded in response as Lancelot ate.
“Didn’t Percival just finish his rounds?” Merlin asked after a moment. Lancelot nodded as he chewed, after a moment he swallowed. “Now that I think on it, I see him most nights. Is something going on that I should know about? I mean, I know Arthur would want to kno-“ he was cut off when Lancelot turned to him, one eyebrow raised. “He cares! He’s just, he-“
“He’s got a lot more to deal with than a knight who can’t sleep,” Lancelot filled in for his friend. Merlin nodded his agreement.
“Can’t or won’t?” Merlin asked looking at his friend. Lancelot thought about it for a moment before responding.
“Honestly? I’m not sure.”
Merlin nodded, “I can’t begin to imagine what happened. Can’t say I blame him,” he said.
“Nor do I,” Lancelot responded.
-----------------------------------
Days passed, as days do, often bleeding into one another in an endless way. Rebuilding Camelot, the night watch and the patrols that went out in search of Morgana kept Percival’s mind occupied for a great deal of time. He was able to find some peace during his time in the forest, a few hours of shut-eye beneath the stars before being woken up or in most cases waking himself, to take his turn on patrol while the others slept around their makeshift camp. However, now back within the city walls the peace he felt, what little he clung to, slipped away slowly each night.
Percival crouched low to try and see through the fog of smoke the poured through the house. As he moved further into his home the smoke became thicker, he could just barely make out what was in front of his feet, and before he realized he came across one of the intruders standing in front of his sister, Winifred, her feet just barely visible.
“Give it here, girly,” the man said in a gruff voice, moving closer to his sister.
“Stay back,” she said in a voice all together unfamiliar to Percival. She sounded weak, sick, vulnerable. The man laughed at this and as he moved to lunge Percival cut his legs, standing and disarming the man before stabbing him. The intruder fell to the floor and Percival moved to Winifred.
It was then he saw why she sounded so different. Her shirt was covered in blood; it was still trickling out of her as she crouched in the corner. She tried to take a deep breath but the smoke caused her to cough.
“Percival?” she asked softly, looking up at him with big scared eyes as she wiped the blood she had coughed up away from her mouth.
“Winni, I’m going to keep you safe,” he said holding his sister tight to him before lifting her up and carrying her out of the house.
“No, we can’t leave them!” She cried, coughing up more blood as she tried to kick herself out of his tight grasp.
“What are you talking about?” Percival asked, trying not to sound frantic.
“Mum, she’s in there with Eddy and Ara,” she said in a quiet ragged voice. Percival could feel his hands becoming wet, her blood spilling onto him. He kept one hand on her wound, but it was too late.
“Winni, I’m going to get them, you have to stay with me though. Be strong,” he said placing her behind their neighbors’ now emptied barn.
“Just get them,” she said quietly taking his hand from her wound, her words barely audible above all the noise around them.
“Promise me,” he cried, squeezing her hand as he cradled her.
“PERCIVAL!”
He heard his name being called and he knew he had to help but he couldn’t bear to leave her. “Go,” she said, with a small smile on her lips. “Percival.”
“Oi, Percival!”
Percival sat up in his bed, body tense and covered in sweat. Looking around he calmed himself enough to realize he was in no immediate danger before a blanket was thrown at him.
“You were talking again,” Gwaine groaned, his head barely coming up from his pillow.
“Sorry mate,” Percival said.
“Hrrummph,” was all he got in response before Gwaine turned onto his side.
Percival looked around the small room; his mind unable to stop it’s processing but quickly running out of things to occupy itself with. Deciding that sleep was, once again, not going to happen, he left the room. Looking around the seemingly empty castle Percival felt the need to escape creeping up on him. Someone approached him, they addressed him but he couldn’t seem to register the words. After a strange look, Percival simply nodded in response before taking off to the stables.
Meeting no one, he was able to quickly saddle and mount his horse before kicking his heels and heading out of the gates of Camelot. Lancelot watched as his friend galloped out of the city, Elyan stood next to him, a confused look upon his face.
“I think his nightmares are catching up with him,” was all Lancelot said, patting his friend on the shoulder as he took over the night watch.
“What are you on about?” Elyan asked, looking between Lancelot and the fading figure of Percival.
“Nothing, it’s nothing. If he’s not back by morning call, inform me.” Elyan nodded to Lancelot as he headed back to their barracks before the oncoming clouds opened up on them both.
After a while Percival came to a halt, fresh air filling his lungs as he took a deep breath. He kicked his heels to get his horse going again, the horse however seemed to have a mind of its own and turned left, wandering aimlessly down what seemed to be a forgotten path. After a few minutes the forest cleared and he came to a lake. Dismounting, he let his horse recuperate, settling down against a rock looking out over the calm unmoving water. Here there was nothing demanding his attention, nothing urgent to take care of. Despite the welcome distraction Camelot was, he was tired. He was exhausted really. He barely slept as it was; his dreams had becoming more frequent as he settled into Camelot. He trusted his new friends, his fellow knights, but talking to them about this, it was different. Only Lancelot knew about it, well, he only told Lancelot about it. Percival was sure the others knew something of the matter. But even then, he had to be strong. He had made a name for himself and he knew if he spoke about it, he would be unable to keep it together for long.
His gaze was focused but his eyes drifted shut after sometime, and after a long and pointless fight with himself he let them stayed shut. How long they remained shut he was unsure, it was still dark out and the clouds had moved in overhead when he first noticed it. There were ripples on the lake, coming from random points, but all in the same area. It was fuzzy at first; he had to blink his eyes in order to be sure. Someone was skipping stones. Getting up quickly he checked his horse - still comfortable by the shrubs, eating leaves - before he moved in the direction of the person or persons. From where he stood there was too much in his line of sight and in the cover of darkness he could not be sure of anything.
Slowing his footsteps he drew his sword, carefully coming closer, walking around to see if there was a camp of some sort. Securing the area and only seeing a horse he approached the tree that a lone figure was sitting by. He approached, sword at the ready.
“What are you doing at this time of night?”
The figure dropped the stone mid-throw. Percival moved the sword closer to the figure’s head when the hooded figure let out a squeal, turning to face Percival but getting no further than the sword pointed in the figure’s face.
“Ohhhh, eh, no need for all of this,” it said motioning one hand towards his sword, the other trying to feel out more ground in an attempt to put more space between their face and sword.
In an attempt to gain space the figure bent their knees, digging their heels into the ground to propel backwards. In the process one foot caught on the cape, choking the figure until they loosened it. Coughing in an attempt to clear their voice the hood fell away and Percival realized he was holding a sword to a woman.
“No,” she coughed, looking at the dumbfounded knight. “Really, I’m fine,” she said using one arm to feel for her canteen.
“Oh!” Percival jolted out of his stupor sheathed his sword and grabbed her water canteen, handing it to her.
Taking it from his hands, she drank as he watched her, occasionally glancing around the area. Once she drunk her fill she took a look at the man standing in front of her, apparently looking for something or someone.
“You alright over there?” she asked, one eyebrow furrowed.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Percival asked. The woman shrugged in response but said nothing. “I just---it’s not safe for you to be alone out here, so I assumed you’d have someone with you,” he explained.
“Well, if I did, they clearly won’t be for long since you so easily had me at sword point,” she laughed.
Percival stared at her for a moment. It had been a while since he heard a woman laugh, even longer since he caused it in some way. Guinevere smiled of course, she’d laugh at Merlin’s antics, or something Arthur said, but besides the antics the knights found themselves in (or made) laughter had been pretty rare since he arrived, even rarer since he lost his family.
“Then why’d you risk coming out alone?” he asked her moving to sit next to her, confused and a little more than intrigued.
The woman pursed her lips, looking from him to the lake. They sat in silence for a moment before she spoke.
“I felt my need to be away from prying eyes outweighed the danger. I felt caged, I guess,” she said, wrapping her arms around her knees. “I know it sounds strange but it’s the only way I can describe it. Almost if all the air around me just left,” she went on as Percival simply stared.
She had stopped talking, Percival knew that, it was his turn to speak as she finally turned to look at him but he just couldn’t stop himself from staring at her.
“Stranger than I thought, it seems. It’s rude to stare you know,” she said when Percival remained silent.
“No, it’s just that--I didn’t think anyone else felt that way,” Percival said when his senses returned to him, finding his hands rather interesting for the moment.
“Oh,” she responded. Looking at the man sitting next to her she moved close to him and spoke softly. “I’m glad I’m not the only one too.”
He stopped fiddling with his hands to look at the woman sitting next to him, a genuine smile on his face. “Me too.”
The two sat in silence for a while, neither willing to address the bigger question of why they both found themselves here.
“I come here to be with my Mother,” she said quietly, breaking the silence after a moment.
Percival started looking around, rather confused, before going to put more distance between the two of them, but stopped when he heard her laughing.
“No,” she said, shaking her head, the hood falling back completely. “My mother died, when I was born, I never met her,” she explained. “My father told me that they met here. Something about her family wanting her to marry someone else, so they’d meet here in secret,” she said softly. “So you won’t see anyone, well, not anyone I invited. That’s for sure,” she smiled a sad smile at him, before perching her head on her knees.
“But you have stories about her?” he asked.
She bobbed her head side to side. “Not really stories per say, aside from that. And to be honest I don’t know how much of that was my father telling his daughter wanted to hear,” she explained, moving to lean against the trunk of the tree. “I know they met here. Beyond that, I don’t think it matters,” she went on, turning to face him.
“But how do you know that much is true? Or anything else about her?” he pressed. No longer having his family was bad enough but the thought that he never had them, to not know his father, seemed wrong.
“I know because of this knot on the tree,” she said scooting forward and away from the roots. “I love my father, but he’s not imaginative enough to have come up with it out of nowhere,” she said, pointing out the roots that were visible above ground.
“It’s a heart,” she said, tracing the area with her fingers as Percival looked. “Besides from when and how they met, he doesn’t tell me and I don’t ask, I think it’s too painful,” she explained simply before settling back over the knot in the tree.
“But aren’t the least bit curious? I mean, she’s your mother,” he said before he could stop himself. They sat there in silence for a while. Percival staring at her, and she simply looked out over the lake. “What I meant, was that, I don’t think I could be as calm about the whole thing if it were me,” he said in a soft voice.
She said nothing, which made Percival’s stomach lurch horribly. Leaning forward she took the stone she had held before, aimed and threw the stone across the lake. They both watched it skip. Once, twice, thrice, and a final fourth time before it made a plunk sound and fell into the lake.
“I accept that to bring me into this world, she had to be taken from it,” she said in a quiet voice as she turned to face him. “I don’t like it, but it’s fact. I know there is nothing that will bring her back, and I know that my presence although comforting, is also painful to my father,” she said. “Besides, there are other ways to find things out,” she stated simply.
They sat together in silence for a while, watching the moon and cloud reflected over the lake.
“You never told me why you’re here,” she said suddenly, turning once again to face him. He looked at her but said nothing. Percival had hoped that saying nothing would make it obvious that he didn’t want to talk about it. But he had hoped in vain. She kept staring at him, looking him in the eyes quite directly.
It was then he noticed that her eyes were wet. Or rather they had been wet. He made her cry, and with that knowledge he had to say something.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said gruffly, turning his head back to the lake and wrapping his arms around himself to keep out the cold. In his need to get out of the city he forgot to grab his cape.
This explanation didn’t seem to stave off her gaze, as he felt it on the back of his neck. When he finally looked back at her, her eyebrows raised in question.
“Nightmares?” she asked once he faced her again. She studied his face carefully for his reaction, which she needn't have done since his surprise was clear. He nodded in the affirmative. She continued to look up at him, saying nothing but the look on her face pressed him to continue speaking and he felt inclined to, more so than he had with Lancelot.
“About my family,” he finally said, seeing the small pile of stones she had collected and picked one up.
“What about them?” she asked, her voice was still quiet but it was different, hesitant almost. He looked away from her, his eyes glued to the lake. He kept the stone in his hand, running his fingers across the surface.
“They were murdered,” he finally said, even to his own ears his voice sounded surprisingly detached. He kept his eyes on the lake ahead, but he heard her intake of breath. “We lived in one of the border villages, and it’s a logical route for Cenred’s men to pass en route to Camelot,” he continued on when she said nothing.
“Where you...I mean, how did you...” she rambled on in an attempt to find the right words to ask her question, but Percival knew that there was no such thing.
“I was in the forest, a league off with my brother. We were gathering wood to use and sell. When I got there it was...” he faltered. He knew, he knew what he was going to say. He knew it because he lived it, every day of his life; but saying it aloud, to another person, was more difficult than he realized. “I was too late.” He stopped when he felt a sudden warmth. When he turned he saw she put her hand on his arm, he looked at her with a strange look on his face but when he saw her eyes he regretted it.
Her eyes were large a hazel green color by the looks of it. They showed him nothing but empathy. She said nothing but moved her thumb over his arm in a comforting motion and Percival felt the dam inside of him break.
“We were getting ready for the winter, my younger siblings were gathering the remaining food we grew. My elder brother, Bryce, he and I...” he trailed off, unable to look her in the eyes, he focused on her hand. “By the time we saw the smoke, we-” he couldn’t finish it. For the second time tonight he felt the air leave his lungs.
“It’s alright,” she said in a soothing voice. “Slow, deep breathes,” she added, biting her lip.
After a few moments he regained his breath, his throat relaxed but his body was still tense. Her hand was still on his arm.
“Bryce and I, we split up and he went to go find our Pa, while I went in search of my Mum and siblings. The smoke was so dense I could barely see my feet in front of me. It worked to my advantage, at least I was able to surprise one of his men, although at the time it didn’t stop them any,” he said explained. “I took down one of the riders, thought I’d done a number on him - it stopped him for the moment. But I heard my Ma yelling, then there was this scream, the likes of which I never heard another living person make. I knew it was her,” he said looking back at the woman.
“You see, my Pa, he was the sort who would go fight the enemy in the streets, for the village, while my Ma held down the house. I knew she was protecting them and I ran, I don’t think I’ve ever run that fast for anything. There where men everywhere; running about, on horseback. I swung my axe at anything that moved. If I had been paying more attention maybe I would have seen that they should have been dead, that they had already sustained wounds that any normal person would have died of . But I didn’t, you see, I just kept running. I had to get to them, I had to save them.” As he spoke, his voice became more panicked and it made his words come out even quicker.
“There was a man in the doorway. I just swung, he didn’t go down when I sliced his side and he fell to his knees and I swung at his neck. He fell, there was blood everywhere, I just assumed he was dead,” he explained, one hand rubbing the back of his head. “I found my sister; she was trying to protect one of the few valuable things we had. She wouldn’t give it up. there was this brute of a man and he’d cornered her. I was crouching low you see, the smoke was so thick-they’d set fire to everything. What they didn’t, caught fire anyway,” and it spread faster than they could loot. She held this little medal, it was my Pa’s, in her hands. She wouldn’t give it to him and I was able to knock him down before he could do anything - more,” he said, finding the last word the most difficult.
“I got her out, I carried her to where I thought she’d be safe but she’d already been stabbed.” Percival rubbed his face with his hand, the images ingrained in his mind. It was only when he felt the dampness on his hand that he realized he was crying.
The young woman stayed silent, her eyes glued to the man sitting beside her. Her hand never left his arm.
“She told me to go back - that the others were in there, but I couldn’t leave her. But she knew, she just... she knew she wasn’t going to make it. She made me promise to go back and get the others. I made her promise to be strong. I sat there, in a pool of her blood- like an idiot refusing to acknowledge that my sister, was...that she, wasn’t going to-” he couldn’t get the words out, nor did he need to.
He was shaking, whether from the cold or emotion she didn’t know but she unclasped her cloak and moved to wrap it around them both. It was snug, but it worked.
The sudden warmth startled Percival out of his ravine. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, wiping his hands across his eyes.
“Well, I can’t very well let you turn blue,” she said matter-of-factly.
Percival actually cracked a small smile at her tone, before going on. “I thank you, but I meant, this whole, you don’t have to listen to me,” he finally clarified, looking at her once more.
She took a deep breath before looking back at him. He saw that she was crying as well, but her face showed nothing to give her emotions away aside from the wetness on her cheeks. She moved her hand more comfortably around his arm before speaking.
“Someone should,” she said wiping a stray tear away before looking up at him once more to continue.
“She died in my arms, my sister, tough as any man, and in many ways far more terrifying,” he confessed, a small smile crossing his face. “But watching her, I couldn’t do anything. I’m supposed to protect them-I’m their older brother,” Percival said, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.
“So your siblings they-”
He nodded, barely moving his head. “I went back for them, I promised her I’d save them. She made me go back but when I got to the house they were gone. When I finally found them...my Mum was holding my youngest siblings, Arabella and Edmund. Bryce had found Pa, but he was too late. Mum was bleeding everywhere and crying. They were all crying, Bryce held my Pa while he died, Mum tried to shield Ara and Edmund. She tried to convince them to run, to leave them, but I don’t think Bryce heard it,” he said looking at the lake but not seeing it.
“Bryce took on the first men he saw, I tried to get to them but there were men everywhere, I wasn’t fast enough. Men circled around him, but he fell,” he said softy. “It’s just-how is it that he died when he taught me everything? He was a better fighter than me, faster, but I lived and he-he died,” he wiped the tears from his eyes.
“He looked at me, he saw me, I was almost by him when he fell. It was, like in a story you hear, how the knight fights evil with everything he has. And just as the tide turns, everything looks bad, good prevails. He got up,” Percival explained sadly. “Our eyes met as his knees hit the ground, he breathed in the smoke around him and got up. He kept fighting, he kept them distracted so I could get to Ara and Edmund, so I could get them out. He died to keep me alive, to give me a chance to save them, and I couldn’t even do that! I called out to them as they ran towards the forest but I wasn’t quick enough. Men had surrounded us thoroughly, I heard their screams.” He stopped, wiping his eyes at this point. The rock he had held previously, he threw into the lake.
“I kept going, I fought my way to them but there were so many-a friend had to pull me away. Then they were gone. As quickly as they had arrived, they left. There was no village, no houses. Farms were destroyed, it was a smoldering wreck,” he said as the clouds started to open up. The clouds had built thorough out the night, and rain came pouring down in sheets. Neither one moved, the canopy of the tree giving them enough of a shelter as to not be completely soaked. For a while they watched the rain come down, diagonal sheets of droplets that seemed to dance across the lake. It was her who broke the silence.
“How did you end up here then?” she asked, her arm furthest away from him pulling the cloak tighter.
“My friend, the one who pulled me away, he’s sort of a wanderer and I realized I had nothing left but anger. Staying there wouldn’t help. He was called to Camelot to-” Percival cut himself off quickly. “To help a friend. When we went through the village, checking for survivors I saw Cenred’s crest. The letter he got, not two days after was to help fight Cenred’s men,” he explained. There was no need to explain the specifics; the two felt at ease with one another- mentioning names, insinuating that he was a knight could ruin it. That was something Percival didn’t have the heart to do.
“And you won!” she said in a quiet but obviously happy voice. “There isn’t a greater reward, is there? To fight for your loved ones, win and survive?”
“But that’s just it-I shouldn’t have survived,” he said in a barely audible voice. “I should have died, I should be with them.” His hand covered his face, as fresh tears came. Facing her once more he explained. “I’m not the best fighter-Bryce was, I should have died. For whatever reason I was forced to watch my family die. And when I sought my revenge, I went in accepting, knowing, I would die. I would do what I should have done for them the first time.”
As many times as he had thought it, he had never shared it with anyone. The weight of surviving without his family, keeping it in, feeling as if he should have died and was undeserving of what he had now, had been slowly eating at him.
“Oh, oh... Oh no,” she said, crying herself but unsure of what to say or do to stop his tears. Panicking, she looked around, not knowing what she expected to find before she did the only thing that occurred to her. She wrapped both arms around him and held him while he cried. She perched her head on top of his, stoking his arm with her hand.
“It’s okay,” she said softly against the side of his head. “Just let it out.”
He wrapped his hand around one of her arms and they stayed like that. How long it had been, neither one was sure but her knees hurt when Percival finally let go of her arm and she sat down again.
“For what it’s worth, I think your family would be happy,” she said ,looking from her hands, which for the moment held great interest to her, to his face. “They clearly loved you, they would want you to live on for them,” she explained. Percival nodded. “And I think they’d be upset in knowing that you blame yourself. You have been given a second chance here,” she went on. Percival looked at her as if he had been burned.
“I’m not saying it’s easy, I can’t begin to imagine the things you saw. Nor can I bear to think how that must haunt you, I thought being the reason my mother died was bad enough,” she said with a sad sort of laugh.
“You’re not-”
She put her hand to his mouth to stop him. “We’re not talking about me here,” she explained before going on. “As difficult as it may be, you need to keep going. This happened what, over a year ago now, I’m not saying you shouldn’t mourn them, but you can’t live your life mourning them,” she finally said.
Percival stared at her for a while. She was right. It hurt but she was right. “You’re the first person I’ve told,” he finally said. Her head jerked up and stared at him in shock.
“Me?” she asked incredulously and he nodded.
“I think people know, they’ve guessed, but they don’t know,” he went on as she continued to stare at him.
“But...but why?” she finally stammer out, to which Percival shrugged.
“In what I do now, I need to be seen as strong, as someone who can protect others. I suppose it’s how I do penance. Either way, it is not where anyone feels at ease to open up. Particularly if this is how it ends,” he said referring to his tears.
“You have nothing to pay penance for!” she cried. Percival went to talk but she wouldn’t allow it. “Look, you did your best, but did they die at your hands? Your sword? Were Cenred’s men there because of you? You did more than most could. Thinking like that will get you into an early grave. I, for one, don’t think you deserve that, nor do I think your family would! As hard as this is, and as cold and cruel as this may sound, you need to snap out of it!” she cried, staring him straight in the eyes.
Immediately she covered her mouth with her hands. They stared at each other in silence for a while, the rain softening, but the angle changing and beginning to hit them. Both where shocked by what she had said, and more so, how she had said it.
“I’m, I-” she stammered.
“My Mum would have liked you,” Percival finally said, a small smile on his face. Her head perked up and she let out a sigh of relief. “Your half of the cloak is loose,” he said, wrapping an arm around her to pull her in.
The rain continued. They sat curled close together, watching the rain fall in endless streams. Whose eyes closed first, neither knew, but she woke to realize the sun had started to peek through the trees. Prodding him in the stomach, Percival woke up to a bright pair of hazel green eyes looking at him.
“It’s daylight,” she said softly. Percival groaned and rubbed his eyes with the hand not wrapped around her. “Sleep alright?” she asked him hopefully and he nodded.
“For the first time, in a long time, yeah. I did.” She grinned widely at the news.
“I’m glad for it. You clearly needed it, but I think we should be off,” she said.
“You’re right, we should.” But neither moved; both seemed content to sit in silence with the other.
The rain had nearly stopped, most of the clouds had gone. She curled into his side and he pulled her closer to have her head rest on his shoulder. How long they had dozed for they didn’t know, but Percival heard hoofs and footsteps approaching fast. Not wanting to alarm her, he wrapped her in a blanket and stood ready to defend them both when he saw the colors of Camelot.
“Percival?” Lancelot’s voice was quiet as he approached.
“Lancelot?” Percival relaxed when he saw his friend.
“Where the hell have you been, we sent Arthur in the other direction-”
“Arthur?” he repeated, more than a little surprised.
“He thought Morgana might have gotten you,” an out of breath Merlin said, appearing fast behind Lancelot.
“Well, as you can both see, I’m fine,” Percival said, smiling and trying to avoid them seeing what -or rather who he was standing behind. But it was not to be. Having attempted to move, she fell to her side with a loud “oooofff”.
“What the-” she suddenly noticed that they were no longer alone, and in a failed maneuver thought that covering her face with her cape would make her invisible.
Merlin and Lancelot each looked around the towering man and saw the blonde hair and female cloak before looking at each other, then to Percival. Lancelot smiled at his large friend who was slowly becoming redder.
“I can see you’re fine,” he said in an attempt to keep a straight face.
“I didn’t think you were into blondes,” Merlin said, biting the inside of his cheek and trying not to look at Lancelot to keep his laughter in.
“Both of you-” but Percival was cut off by Merlin’s exclamation.
“PRINCESS ELENA?!”
The blonde froze in her attempt to stand, before slowly turning around. All four of them stood stock still as they heard Arthur’s voice not too far off. Not failing to take in the appearance of the man at Merlin’s side and how they all spoke, she made a few conclusions of her own.
“I see we have some formal introductions to make, if we’re going to get out of here without too much of a debacle?” she said calmly, securing her cape and moving to stand next to Percival.
Merlin took a moment to make the proper introductions. After a moment, an idea was hatched to distract Arthur long enough to allow Elena enough time to leave without being caught. Lancelot stood a bit off while she and Percival said their goodbyes.
“Princess Elena?” he said after a moment. She nodded.
“Sir Percival?” His smile was small, and he nodded. “Promise me you’ll try to move forward, live for them?” she asked him after re-buckling her saddle.
“I’ll try, but,” he wavered as her foot reached the saddle. She stopped and turned to face him, one hand on her hip.
“But what?” she asked, eyebrows raised.
“It’ll be tough, perhaps a bit of a reminder might be in order?” he asked, not even trying to hide his smirk. She laughed loudly, before remembering she had to be quiet and covered her mouth.
“That could be arranged,” she smiled brightly, before she mounted her horse. He watched her before grabbing her hand and kissing it. She was going to say something more but Lancelot emerged, the look on his face enough to tell them they had to hurry up. Lancelot bowed as she took the reins, her head inclined as formal recognition of his rank. Turning her horse around, she bent down to kiss Percival’s cheek before heading home.
Merlin approaching them as she left, the three watched as she became more and more of a blur in the distance.
“MERLIN!” Arthur bellowed. The three decided Elena was clear of being caught, so they returned.
After a minor berating, the group left to return to Camelot, Percival stayed silent as they entered the gates of Camelot.
“So, do you want to tal-” Lancelot’s voice pulled Percival from his day dreams.
“Nope,” he responded simple, the small smile that hadn’t left his face more pronounced.
“Not even-”
“No,” Percival repeated, more seriously this time.
“Look, you’ve got to talk to someone about what happened-it’s tragic, your family, the village,” Lancelot went on, his next words quieter as they passed people. “Perhaps even more so than Arthur’s, but as your friend, sneaking out and doing whatever with,” he stalled here. It was evident that Percival didn’t know who she was until this morning, but the original words didn’t seem appropriate. “With, whomever, isn’t helping you’re onl-”
“I did,” he said in a voice that startled Lancelot. “I have someone to talk to,” was all he said before galloping a pace a head of his friend. Lancelot stared in wonder as he went off. Percival took a breath and looked back at his friend. “Besides, she’s a great deal prettier than you!” he said with a grin before heading to the stables.
Although apprehensive at first, Lancelot began to accept that he’d found someone in which to confide in that wasn’t himself. Percival’s smile said a great deal, and he left it at that as he kicked his horse ahead.