The Perfect Knight
Original Post
Rating: PG-13
Character/s: Percival, Elyan, Gaius, Arthur, Agravaine, Gwaine
Summary: Gwaine's amnesia presents the others with an opportunity. S4.
Word Count: 2,000
Prompt: amnesia
A/N: For ag_fics Team Fic Battle.
"I did not hit him that hard." Percival obviously felt badly, but was also confused. "At least, I don't think I did. Since it was just practice, I was holding back."
"I think you may have misjudged," Elyan said, watching whilst Gaius spoke with Gwaine. "It's a good thing he was wearing a helmet, else you might have knocked out his brains as well as his wits." As the physician patted Gwaine on the shoulder and went to rejoin the others, Gwaine adjusted the bandage wrapped around his head and winced.
"How is he?" asked Arthur, when Gaius had reached them.
"He has amnesia. He knows how to use a sword and ride a horse, things which are innate to him or practically so; but he cannot remember his own name, much less anything about his life."
Arthur frowned. "Is there anything that can be done?"
"Not as such, I'm afraid. His memory may come back gradually; it may be all at once, in a flash... or, it may not happen, at all. Sharing stories of things he has done, or taking him to familiar places might help him to remember something. Otherwise, just be patient with him."
"Thank you, Gaius."
As Gaius bowed and walked away, Percival straightened. "Sire, I take complete responsibility. Anything Gwaine needs, I will see to it."
Arthur waved away the offer. "No, these are risks we all take. We do have to figure out a way to handle this, though. Even if Gwaine knows how to fight, he can hardly go out on missions with us if he doesn't know us, or whom he's fighting."
"Gaius said that taking him to familiar places could help," Leon said. "I'd say a trip to the tavern is in order."
There were murmurs of agreement, until Agravaine carefully said, "Perhaps, it is not."
"How's that, Uncle?" Arthur frowned, perplexed.
"This could be an opportunity. If Gwaine has no memory of his poorer habits, this could be the perfect time to break him of them."
"I'm not sure I follow," Percival said, and Elyan nodded in agreement.
The smile Agravaine gave them was, as usual, bordering on strained. "Rather than reminding him of how much time he has spent enjoying ale and women, point him in different directions. Tell him he values sobriety and is completely devoted to Camelot."
"He is completely devoted to Camelot," Elyan cut in.
Agravaine lost his smile altogether. "I know he is, but you cannot say he has never been late to a practice session because of the woman whose bed he was sharing."
The others exchanged reluctant glances, torn between loyalty to their friend and the truth of that statement.
"I'm not so sure about this, Uncle." Arthur crossed his arms. "I see what you're saying, but it seems wrong, somehow." The rest of the knights nodded.
Agravaine dipped his chin in acquiescence. "Of course, the decision is yours, Arthur." After a pause, he added, "I had also thought that if we gave it a try and it did not work out, we could always start telling him stories, in order to attempt to spark his true memories. Or, take him to the tavern, as Sir Leon suggested."
Whilst Arthur pondered the notion for another minute, the knights looked at one another uneasily.
"Wouldn't we all appreciate an opportunity to be broken of our bad habits, without even knowing it?" Agravaine said, smiling again.
Finally, Arthur nodded. "All right, we'll give it a try. But-- the first sign that it's doing more harm than good, or confusing him, we take him to the tavern." As an afterthought, he said, "We will probably do well not to take him anywhere near the tavern, otherwise."
"I suspect this will not go over well," Elyan said under his breath to Leon.
In fact, it went brilliantly.
Over the following weeks, Gwaine was not late for a single practice. He took a book to bed with him every night, studying the history of the Five Kingdoms, writings of the world's greatest swordsmen, and philosophies of distant lands. He averted his eyes and bowed when he passed a woman. In short, he became the epitome of a gentleman knight.
"I miss Gwaine," Percival said glumly to Elyan one evening, as they sharpened their swords in the armory. "The real Gwaine."
Elyan sighed. "I know what you mean. I cannot find a single reason to object to his new self-- other than the fact that he's simply not Gwaine."
Leon came in then and, catching sight of them, came over. "Gwaine just assisted the baker's daughter with a basket of bread, and everything he said was entirely proper. His eyes never even left her face." That was a challenge with the baker's daughter; she was well-endowed and proud of the fact, displaying her wares more effectively than any of her father's. "She asked me if something's happened to him."
Thoughtfully, Elyan said, "If she thinks something's happened to him... then, it stands to reason that she might not trust that he can be relied upon to protect her, or the kingdom, does it not?"
Percival stared at Elyan in confusion, whilst Leon caught on. "If the people lose faith in one of the knights, they could lose faith in all of us. It would be very bad for Camelot if that began to spread."
Percival grinned, but quickly hid it, nodding in mock seriousness. "We need to talk to Arthur."
In his chambers, Arthur regarded the three of them from across his desk. "You want to 'fix' Gwaine."
"We believe it to be a matter of utmost importance to the security of the kingdom, Sire," Leon said solemnly.
Arthur was quiet a moment. Finally, he sat back. "Well, then. I cannot ignore a potential threat to Camelot. I hereby task the three of you with attempting to restore Gwaine's memory."
With bows and agreeable murmurs, they went to leave. In a tone that was more Arthur than king, he added, "And, do not leave the tavern until he's back to normal."
Leon turned back and smiled. "Yes, Sire."
Getting Gwaine to the tavern turned out to be something of an issue-- a situation none of them could ever have imagined would arise.
"We will only go for a short time," Elyan said coaxingly. "Have a pint, then come back to the castle."
Gwaine was sitting on top of his bed, a heavy tome about the lineage of the Mercian kings open in front of him. "I thank you for the invitation, but no. Ale is the path to ruination."
That was the third thing he had now said was "the path to ruination," after staying up too late at night and falling in with prostitutes. Percival was considering giving up on the conversation, picking Gwaine up, and bodily hauling him to the lower town.
Leon stood a bit straighter. "We've been tasked by Arthur to take you to the tavern. Please, do not have us disobey a direct order from the king."
With a frown, Gwaine carefully shut his book. "I can't fathom why he would give you such an order; but no, of course we cannot disobey it."
With relief, his friends waited whilst he stood and started for the door. "You will forgive me if I do not imbibe," Gwaine requested, as they walked down the corridor. "I would not want to disgrace myself on the training field tomorrow morning."
"Right," Elyan said slowly, hoping to whatever gods might be listening that their venture proved fruitful. He could not take much more of this.
Along the way, Gwaine bowed to every woman they passed, and acknowledged every man with a respectful air. By the time they walked into the Rising Sun, his friends were all in dire need of a drink.
"I thought you told me I've never been here before." Gwaine surveyed the room as they took seats at a table off to the side. "For some reason, I think I have."
They all looked guiltily at one another. "Um, about that..." Percival began, but one of the serving girls sashayed over before he could continue.
"We were beginning to wonder what'd become of you!" She flung herself down on Gwaine's lap with the ease of old familiarity. "Glad to see you're still kicking."
His face was the very picture of discomfort as he tried not to touch or look at her in any way that could be construed as inappropriate. "A thousand apologies, lass, but I'm afraid I haven't a clue who you are."
It appeared that she was going to be insulted, but started laughing after a second, giving him a playful shove. "What's gotten into you, then?"
"He took a knock to the head," Percival said quietly.
"No, you didn't!" She started combing her fingers through Gwaine's hair, essentially pressing her bosom against his face.
"Miss-- if you please--" He caught Leon's attention, his eyes clearly asking for assistance.
Leon pretended not to see.
"Enough with this 'lass' and 'miss' rubbish," she admonished. "Call me by my name, or you ain't getting a single pint."
Before Gwaine could say he was fine with that, Leon quickly said, "It's 'Penelope,' is it not?"
She rewarded him with a wink. "I know who's getting his pint first." Climbing off of Gwaine, she made her way to the bar.
"You did not recognize her at all?" Elyan bit back a sigh; he had rather been hoping that this would make Gwaine's memory return in a flash, as Gaius had said it could.
No such luck. "Should I?"
"Yes!" Percival all but shouted. "You should recognize the tavern and her-- and probably more than half the other women in this place, as well-- and you should be craving ale and mead and staying up late and sleeping in past breakfast! And it's all my fault for hitting you on the head, and all of our fault for lying to you, but Agravaine made a convincing case to Arthur and we thought it would help you, but it was wrong and I'm sorry for it. We all are."
As Gwaine glanced at each of them in turn, they all nodded their agreement. After a tense moment, he let out a long sigh. "Oh, thank fuck."
That was met with a stunned silence. "What?" Elyan finally managed.
Slouching into a far more comfortable posture, Gwaine said, "I got my memory back the day after you thumped me, but you were all being such prime arses, trying to 'improve' me, I couldn't just let you get away with it."
"You're... all right, then?" Percival clarified.
"Right as rain-- as soon as I get a pint or three into me, anyway. It's a miserable business, teaching friends a lesson," he informed them. "If I have to wake up before sunrise one more time, I won't be held responsible for my actions. And those books weigh more than you do, Percival."
Percival accepted it all with a grin, simply glad Gwaine was fine. Elyan thought the whole thing over before shaking his head with a laugh. Leon could not decide whether to punch Gwaine, get drunk, leave, or some combination of the three.
Penelope returned with four mugs then. "Put 'em all right here, Penny, m'luv," Gwaine declared, patting the table in front of him.
"I thought you'd been thumped on the head?" she said archly.
"Oh, I was," he assured her. Throwing back an entire pint in one go, he slammed the empty mug down on the table. "How about a kiss to make it better?"
As she settled back down on his lap, the others got up to leave. "See you tomorrow, lads," he called from behind Penelope.
"Bright and early on the training field?" asked Elyan.
"Yes, to the training field." He paused while Penelope kissed him, breaking it off briefly to continue, "Don't bet on the 'bright and early' part."
Somehow, Elyan doubted that anyone would complain.
*
Rating: PG-13
Character/s: Percival, Elyan, Gaius, Arthur, Agravaine, Gwaine
Summary: Gwaine's amnesia presents the others with an opportunity. S4.
Word Count: 2,000
Prompt: amnesia
A/N: For ag_fics Team Fic Battle.
"I did not hit him that hard." Percival obviously felt badly, but was also confused. "At least, I don't think I did. Since it was just practice, I was holding back."
"I think you may have misjudged," Elyan said, watching whilst Gaius spoke with Gwaine. "It's a good thing he was wearing a helmet, else you might have knocked out his brains as well as his wits." As the physician patted Gwaine on the shoulder and went to rejoin the others, Gwaine adjusted the bandage wrapped around his head and winced.
"How is he?" asked Arthur, when Gaius had reached them.
"He has amnesia. He knows how to use a sword and ride a horse, things which are innate to him or practically so; but he cannot remember his own name, much less anything about his life."
Arthur frowned. "Is there anything that can be done?"
"Not as such, I'm afraid. His memory may come back gradually; it may be all at once, in a flash... or, it may not happen, at all. Sharing stories of things he has done, or taking him to familiar places might help him to remember something. Otherwise, just be patient with him."
"Thank you, Gaius."
As Gaius bowed and walked away, Percival straightened. "Sire, I take complete responsibility. Anything Gwaine needs, I will see to it."
Arthur waved away the offer. "No, these are risks we all take. We do have to figure out a way to handle this, though. Even if Gwaine knows how to fight, he can hardly go out on missions with us if he doesn't know us, or whom he's fighting."
"Gaius said that taking him to familiar places could help," Leon said. "I'd say a trip to the tavern is in order."
There were murmurs of agreement, until Agravaine carefully said, "Perhaps, it is not."
"How's that, Uncle?" Arthur frowned, perplexed.
"This could be an opportunity. If Gwaine has no memory of his poorer habits, this could be the perfect time to break him of them."
"I'm not sure I follow," Percival said, and Elyan nodded in agreement.
The smile Agravaine gave them was, as usual, bordering on strained. "Rather than reminding him of how much time he has spent enjoying ale and women, point him in different directions. Tell him he values sobriety and is completely devoted to Camelot."
"He is completely devoted to Camelot," Elyan cut in.
Agravaine lost his smile altogether. "I know he is, but you cannot say he has never been late to a practice session because of the woman whose bed he was sharing."
The others exchanged reluctant glances, torn between loyalty to their friend and the truth of that statement.
"I'm not so sure about this, Uncle." Arthur crossed his arms. "I see what you're saying, but it seems wrong, somehow." The rest of the knights nodded.
Agravaine dipped his chin in acquiescence. "Of course, the decision is yours, Arthur." After a pause, he added, "I had also thought that if we gave it a try and it did not work out, we could always start telling him stories, in order to attempt to spark his true memories. Or, take him to the tavern, as Sir Leon suggested."
Whilst Arthur pondered the notion for another minute, the knights looked at one another uneasily.
"Wouldn't we all appreciate an opportunity to be broken of our bad habits, without even knowing it?" Agravaine said, smiling again.
Finally, Arthur nodded. "All right, we'll give it a try. But-- the first sign that it's doing more harm than good, or confusing him, we take him to the tavern." As an afterthought, he said, "We will probably do well not to take him anywhere near the tavern, otherwise."
"I suspect this will not go over well," Elyan said under his breath to Leon.
In fact, it went brilliantly.
Over the following weeks, Gwaine was not late for a single practice. He took a book to bed with him every night, studying the history of the Five Kingdoms, writings of the world's greatest swordsmen, and philosophies of distant lands. He averted his eyes and bowed when he passed a woman. In short, he became the epitome of a gentleman knight.
"I miss Gwaine," Percival said glumly to Elyan one evening, as they sharpened their swords in the armory. "The real Gwaine."
Elyan sighed. "I know what you mean. I cannot find a single reason to object to his new self-- other than the fact that he's simply not Gwaine."
Leon came in then and, catching sight of them, came over. "Gwaine just assisted the baker's daughter with a basket of bread, and everything he said was entirely proper. His eyes never even left her face." That was a challenge with the baker's daughter; she was well-endowed and proud of the fact, displaying her wares more effectively than any of her father's. "She asked me if something's happened to him."
Thoughtfully, Elyan said, "If she thinks something's happened to him... then, it stands to reason that she might not trust that he can be relied upon to protect her, or the kingdom, does it not?"
Percival stared at Elyan in confusion, whilst Leon caught on. "If the people lose faith in one of the knights, they could lose faith in all of us. It would be very bad for Camelot if that began to spread."
Percival grinned, but quickly hid it, nodding in mock seriousness. "We need to talk to Arthur."
In his chambers, Arthur regarded the three of them from across his desk. "You want to 'fix' Gwaine."
"We believe it to be a matter of utmost importance to the security of the kingdom, Sire," Leon said solemnly.
Arthur was quiet a moment. Finally, he sat back. "Well, then. I cannot ignore a potential threat to Camelot. I hereby task the three of you with attempting to restore Gwaine's memory."
With bows and agreeable murmurs, they went to leave. In a tone that was more Arthur than king, he added, "And, do not leave the tavern until he's back to normal."
Leon turned back and smiled. "Yes, Sire."
Getting Gwaine to the tavern turned out to be something of an issue-- a situation none of them could ever have imagined would arise.
"We will only go for a short time," Elyan said coaxingly. "Have a pint, then come back to the castle."
Gwaine was sitting on top of his bed, a heavy tome about the lineage of the Mercian kings open in front of him. "I thank you for the invitation, but no. Ale is the path to ruination."
That was the third thing he had now said was "the path to ruination," after staying up too late at night and falling in with prostitutes. Percival was considering giving up on the conversation, picking Gwaine up, and bodily hauling him to the lower town.
Leon stood a bit straighter. "We've been tasked by Arthur to take you to the tavern. Please, do not have us disobey a direct order from the king."
With a frown, Gwaine carefully shut his book. "I can't fathom why he would give you such an order; but no, of course we cannot disobey it."
With relief, his friends waited whilst he stood and started for the door. "You will forgive me if I do not imbibe," Gwaine requested, as they walked down the corridor. "I would not want to disgrace myself on the training field tomorrow morning."
"Right," Elyan said slowly, hoping to whatever gods might be listening that their venture proved fruitful. He could not take much more of this.
Along the way, Gwaine bowed to every woman they passed, and acknowledged every man with a respectful air. By the time they walked into the Rising Sun, his friends were all in dire need of a drink.
"I thought you told me I've never been here before." Gwaine surveyed the room as they took seats at a table off to the side. "For some reason, I think I have."
They all looked guiltily at one another. "Um, about that..." Percival began, but one of the serving girls sashayed over before he could continue.
"We were beginning to wonder what'd become of you!" She flung herself down on Gwaine's lap with the ease of old familiarity. "Glad to see you're still kicking."
His face was the very picture of discomfort as he tried not to touch or look at her in any way that could be construed as inappropriate. "A thousand apologies, lass, but I'm afraid I haven't a clue who you are."
It appeared that she was going to be insulted, but started laughing after a second, giving him a playful shove. "What's gotten into you, then?"
"He took a knock to the head," Percival said quietly.
"No, you didn't!" She started combing her fingers through Gwaine's hair, essentially pressing her bosom against his face.
"Miss-- if you please--" He caught Leon's attention, his eyes clearly asking for assistance.
Leon pretended not to see.
"Enough with this 'lass' and 'miss' rubbish," she admonished. "Call me by my name, or you ain't getting a single pint."
Before Gwaine could say he was fine with that, Leon quickly said, "It's 'Penelope,' is it not?"
She rewarded him with a wink. "I know who's getting his pint first." Climbing off of Gwaine, she made her way to the bar.
"You did not recognize her at all?" Elyan bit back a sigh; he had rather been hoping that this would make Gwaine's memory return in a flash, as Gaius had said it could.
No such luck. "Should I?"
"Yes!" Percival all but shouted. "You should recognize the tavern and her-- and probably more than half the other women in this place, as well-- and you should be craving ale and mead and staying up late and sleeping in past breakfast! And it's all my fault for hitting you on the head, and all of our fault for lying to you, but Agravaine made a convincing case to Arthur and we thought it would help you, but it was wrong and I'm sorry for it. We all are."
As Gwaine glanced at each of them in turn, they all nodded their agreement. After a tense moment, he let out a long sigh. "Oh, thank fuck."
That was met with a stunned silence. "What?" Elyan finally managed.
Slouching into a far more comfortable posture, Gwaine said, "I got my memory back the day after you thumped me, but you were all being such prime arses, trying to 'improve' me, I couldn't just let you get away with it."
"You're... all right, then?" Percival clarified.
"Right as rain-- as soon as I get a pint or three into me, anyway. It's a miserable business, teaching friends a lesson," he informed them. "If I have to wake up before sunrise one more time, I won't be held responsible for my actions. And those books weigh more than you do, Percival."
Percival accepted it all with a grin, simply glad Gwaine was fine. Elyan thought the whole thing over before shaking his head with a laugh. Leon could not decide whether to punch Gwaine, get drunk, leave, or some combination of the three.
Penelope returned with four mugs then. "Put 'em all right here, Penny, m'luv," Gwaine declared, patting the table in front of him.
"I thought you'd been thumped on the head?" she said archly.
"Oh, I was," he assured her. Throwing back an entire pint in one go, he slammed the empty mug down on the table. "How about a kiss to make it better?"
As she settled back down on his lap, the others got up to leave. "See you tomorrow, lads," he called from behind Penelope.
"Bright and early on the training field?" asked Elyan.
"Yes, to the training field." He paused while Penelope kissed him, breaking it off briefly to continue, "Don't bet on the 'bright and early' part."
Somehow, Elyan doubted that anyone would complain.
*