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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 9, 2011 19:11:36 GMT -5
Merry music could be heard through the halls as the night of festivities began. Older nobles of the Camelot court gossiped in corners while the younger men asked the giggling noblewomen to dance in the middle of the hall. Knights drank ale and laughed loudly as they had one night of fun amidst all of their hard work and dangerous lives. The servants were refilling drinks and taking away empty plates that have already been stripped of delicious meats.
And yet, with all of the dancing and revelry going on to celebrate the dear Prince...King...Arthur's birthday, Celta found herself unable to breathe. These kinds of events left her breathless and running for the doors. She would much rather be outside having a good time with the commoners, as she was used to for the four years before she was discovered unconscious in the forest by her adoptive parents.
However, those same parents had basically forced her into this tight formal dress, and her mother fixed her hair half up and half down in a beautiful pattern of ringlets and braids. She thought it was a little much just for one night of socializing with the court, but Celta didn't complain. She knew it made Edella happy, so she would put up with it for a night.
And Celta also felt prettier than usual, so she didn't quite mind as she took in the scene in the hall, smiling as she saw a couple in the corner whispering in each other's ears and laughing. Her eyes wandered over to the knights at the tables, and her gaze became wistful. She wished she could be over there, laughing at whatever they were talking about and drinking with them, but that wasn't proper of a lady of the court.
It frustrated her to no end sometimes that she was born a woman. She would never be taken seriously with her dreams of being an accomplished fighter or horsewoman when she was a noblewoman who was supposed to spend her life married to a man she never could love and sit at home with children and no real adventure in life. She did not want that life for herself. She wanted love, to be the woman she's wanted to be since she was little, to have adventures and not be one of those wives who stayed home bearing children all her life.
Looking around for an escape, she found none, and put her hand on her chest with a deep exhale. Her dress was tighter than her usual dresses, and she frowned in distaste of it, glaring at it like it was her worst enemy. She might be able to sneak off to loosen it a bit, or even rush out to join the commoners, if only she had a way to keep her parents distracted so they wouldn't look her way. She smiled as many ideas formed in her mind.
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Post by shonz on Oct 9, 2011 23:50:12 GMT -5
It was one joyous feast. Percival was certainly enjoying himself having drinks and exchanging crazy funny stories with his fellow knights. They've had a good run these past few weeks since Arthur had taken Camelot back from Morgana. They have bonded well on and off training, and Percival definitely liked the new company that he's keeping. For a group so young, they have been through quite an experience when they battled the immortal army and almost tasted death in their hands. Things had ended well for Camelot after that. Everything except for King Uther.
The king seemed to have been hit rather hard by the betrayal of Morgana. And he's anything but lively these days. Percival, as with everybody, had seen how Arthur had to step up and take reign over the kingdom on his father's behalf. This coronation came as no surprise to him. It was only a matter time before Arthur had to officially take the helm. Percival was sad and sorry for Uther, but things needed to be done to save the kingdom.
The knights in their table had just launched into raucous laughter at another one of Sir Gwaine's hilarious antics, and Percival had to excuse himself to go to the loo. He took his time returning to his seat as he surveyed the crowd for good measure. Sure, everybody inside the castle were of nobility and no one would think to make a mess out of this momentous celebration, but he can't be so sure. Even when technically off duty, a knight never really is. Percival did his job diligently and made a quick round about the hall. A butler handed him a goblet of wine when they crossed paths, and Percival thanked him before continuing with his rounds.
He felt rather uncomfortable walking around with a goblet of wine in his hand, so he thought to hasten up the survey he was doing. He started to take long strides and strained his head over and above the crowd, which wasn't difficult considering his tall stature. He weaved through the throng of nobility and other guests in the hall trying to make his way back to their table with the other knights.
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 10, 2011 0:30:45 GMT -5
Celta sighed as she glanced around her once more. The crowds were growing thicker around her, and the voices and whispering were now shouts and cackles of drunken laughter, and the reluctant noblewoman rolled her eyes and narrowly avoided a man falling on her. She skirted around him gracefully and frowned. She desperately needed some fresh, alcohol free air, or she would lose it and yell at one of these rowdy groups of people just waiting for a reason to judge her even more than usual.
Once she was safe away from the larger groups, she smiled in relief and tried to find something to occupy her thoughts, as she found that her mother was looking at her. Well, that ruined any chance of escape that she thought she had prior. With a groan that could only be heard by her alone, she decided to take a walk around and people watch, yet her eyes still roamed to the table of knights.
And while she was daydreaming, she hummed one of her favorite lullabies that her mother used to sing to her as a child. The beautiful voice of her mother always put her straight to sleep when she didn't want to go to sleep yet. It was times like these that she truly missed her true family, when she needed them the most, and it saddened her. Her smile faded instantly as her face showed how preoccupied she was with her thoughts, and she turned quickly to change position and get her mind off of it.
She didn't see the gentleman walking behind her til it was too late. With an audible gasp, she instinctively caught at his arm to keep herself from falling, and then looked up to see the face of a knight of Camelot with an empty cup of wine in his hand. And the wine was now running on her God-forsaken dress she so loathed as she raised a brow amusingly.
Well, this was awkwardly funny.
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Post by shonz on Oct 10, 2011 1:57:39 GMT -5
He should have been more careful. He should have paid more attention to where he was going than to all the crazy raucous all around him. Percival it seemed had surveyed every nook and cranny of the entire hall except right where he was walking. Sure enough, he didn't see who was coming his way, and ran blind smack into a lady who had tried to grab his arm to keep herself steady.
Fortunately for her, Percival was strong enough to keep her from falling. Unfortunately for her, she had grabbed the arm with the goblet full of wine. Totally caught by surprise, Percival could only stand there speechless as he watched the wine splash unceremoniously all over the front of her beautiful gown. The red liquid drenched her chest and left an ugly stain running down the bodice of her dress. Percival didn't know what to do. He stood there all paralyzed trying so hard to utter a word, but only succeeded in opening his mouth. This was totally awkward. How does Gwaine handle accidents like this? He asked himself.
"Uhhh..." Percival had started to speak, but only managed to swallow real hard. He heaved a deep sigh knowing he needed to compose himself and salvage the situation. A Knight of Camelot does not stand all dumb at the face of accidents.
"My apologies, my lady. I wasn't looking where I was going," he finally told her, shamefaced. He could feel his face reddening with embarrassment. He tried to make eye contact to show her how sincere he was, and to show her he wasn't drunk, but he couldn't seem to focus. All he felt was the hotness crawling up his cheeks. A few people around them were starting to take notice, and he hoped that the lady wouldn't shout at him in the middle of the crowd. He wished right now for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. "I'll...I'll...ask one of the maidservants to get you into a new dress," he tried again, his face genuinely apologetic as he stood there towering over her in the middle of the crowded hall.
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 10, 2011 17:02:09 GMT -5
Celta sighed in relief as she caught herself from faceplanting on the floor in front of all the nobles. That would've been very embarrassing for her. A few short moments later, she regretted thinking she was safe. She had unceremoniously grabbed the wrong arm in her haste to keep herself up, and the goblet of wine in the tall knight's hand toppled over. She watched it fall onto the dress as though it happened in slow motion and then felt the cold drink splash all over the top of her dress. Blinking, it took a few seconds to register the drink running on and in her bodice. And that's when she glanced up at the man who she had run into.
He loomed over her, though not in a bad way, more of a protective way. He looked as though he would lay down his life even for the cruelest criminal if it came down to it, with a kind and bashful face and strong arms that had previously held her steady. She let go of his arm with a smile, raising her brow as he stuttered. She knew he was trying to apologize for his actions, but she waved them off when he finally did get the ashamed, apologetic words out.
"It's all right. Please. There is no need to apologize," she laughed good naturedly with bright eyes and a plan. "I hate this dress anyways! I can't breathe in it. And so this gives me the perfect excuse to change." And for him to hopefully get some more drinks for the both of them. She looked him over again and with a tilt of her head, she wondered why she felt naturally comfortable around this man already. She had never formally met this man before, yet there was something about him that she recognized.
"I am Lady Celta Meiru," she introduced with as best a curtsy that she could do. This whole noble thing was hard for her, especially at formal events such as this. And in front of one of Arthur's most trusted knights, nonetheless. Now she felt uncomfortable herself for not representing her nobility well.
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Post by shonz on Oct 10, 2011 19:46:02 GMT -5
A huge sigh of relief escaped from Percival when he saw her smile. He didn't know he had been holding his breath in anticipation of a possibly loud outburst from the lady. Instead, she only laughed and goodnaturedly waved his apologies off. He knew he had whispered a silent prayer to the gods that she wasn't mad at him for being such a klutz and for ruining her lovely dress. Most women would. They come to parties in all their grandest and most beautiful appearance, and would certainly hate it when all their hard work comes to waste just because of a clumsy knight.
Apparently, the lady wasn’t one of those women. Percival’s brows creased in amusement as he listened to her tell him she hated the dress. She seemed to be pleased at him instead for giving her a reason to get out of it. He didn’t expect that. Nevertheless, who was he to question the lady’s attitude? He was off the hook!
“Sir Percival of Camelot, my lady,” he introduced himself with a respectful bow. He couldn’t believe that after what he did to her, she still curtsied for him. These nobles are a puzzle. Though somehow, Percival didn’t think she was just any noble. There was something about her that made her a cut from the usual crowd.
He held out his arm for her. “Thank you for being kind, my lady. I am terribly sorry for ruining your evening,” he timidly told her as he slowly led her away from the middle of the crowd, and towards an exit out the hall. Percival waved a hand and smiled at a passing maidservant. “Can you kindly help the Lady Celta out of her stained dress. My fault. Maybe we have something nice she could wear?” Percival wasn’t sure if there was a stash of clothes somewhere in the castle that they could let the lady wear for the mean time. He hoped there would be. The maidservant nodded and offered to show the Lady Celta towards a nearby guestroom where she could change.
Percival patiently waited for them outside like a dutiful knight guarding his liege. When a servant passed bringing tall goblets of wine to the festivities, he quickly grabbed a couple, and drank one almost halfway. He had never been around ladies of nobility much, and he didn’t know exactly how to treat with them. He knew he could just as easily go now and leave the festivities, so he wouldn’t have to talk to Lady Celta again, but then of course that would be unbecoming of a Knight of Camelot. He needed to stay, and take care of the lady until she was all comfortable and ready to go back to the festivities. For that, he needed all the liquid courage he could get. Percival took another sip from his wine.
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 10, 2011 22:31:04 GMT -5
At once, Celta saw his relief. His body language was nothing but that, with his sigh of relief and his released breath. In turn, she smiled at him calmly and shrugged it off. She told him her true feelings about the hideous piece of clothing that hindered her breathing capabilities with obvious dislike and laughed again while she watched his amused reaction. She was glad he wasn't apologetic anymore, for she hated when people apologized for things that were either accidents or not their fault to begin with.
So, she had been rescued, so to speak, by none other than Sir Percival. She had heard tales of him from some of the women in the court about his strength, but the story she had enjoyed hearing the most was how he saved Arthur's life by pushing the large rocks in the way of the immortal army to help him escape with the others in his traveling party. It took a very brave man to risk his life for Arthur, so she was glad that he was rewarded with knighthood.
"Pleasure to meet you, Sir Percival. King Arthur is lucky to have a knight like you close by his side." He offered her his arm, and she hesitated for a moment before smiling and slipping her hand through the crook and taking his proffered lead. She was never truly sure how to be a perfect noblewoman, so she was lucky to have someone who would probably not laugh at her if she made mistakes. Practice makes perfect, as they always say.
"You didn't run my night. You saved it. I am glad to be away from the court. If you haven't noticed, I don't really fit in with the nobles there," she explained with a slight frown as she looked sideways at him. The maidservant pointed her into a guest room, and she nodded, leaving Percival for a few moments while she quickly changed into a plain white dress that might not be fit for a coronation, but it certainly was beautiful nonetheless and perfect for her. She left the room to find Sir Percival waiting for her there, another goblet of wine in his hand, and she couldn't help but laugh.
"Thank you for waiting," she began again slowly and softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she looked up at the tall but gentle man with a gentle smile of her own. "Please tell me some of that wine is for me." It wasn't very ladylike of her to say that, but she really did need a drink after everything she had been forced to do tonight because of her social status.
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Post by shonz on Oct 11, 2011 1:37:38 GMT -5
"Pleasure to meet you, Sir Percival. King Arthur is lucky to have a knight like you close by his side."
Percival smiled and couldn’t help the small blush that tainted his cheeks at the compliment Lady Celta just gave him. He doubted Arthur would still consider himself lucky if he finds out one of his knights just ruined the dress of one of his guests. He wished none of the knights had seen what just happened out there in the hall. He’d definitely be the butt of jokes the next time they meet for training.
Still, what was important, and also bizarre, was the fact that Lady Celta somehow appreciated what he did. The frown she had given him when she told him she didn’t really fit in with the nobles made Percival do a double take. There was definitely something there, and Percival was hesitant to pry. Although, he’d be willing to offer her his company if she didn’t want to get back in there just yet.
He was shook out from his thoughts when he heard the pleasant tinkling of her laughter as she emerged from the room with the maidservant. She was now wearing a plain white gown, more simple, and less lavish than the one she had worn earlier, and yet she still looked all regal and lovely in it. Percival couldn’t help but stare.
"Please tell me some of that wine is for me."
“Oh, of course! I’m sorry.” Percival kicked himself mentally for losing it there for a bit, and then handed the other glass of wine to Lady Celta. He was hoping to finish both goblets for himself before she’d come out, but it seems she needed it as much as he did. “Do you wish to return to the festivities now, my lady, or do you want to take a breather for a while?" He wasn’t sure how ladies handle it really. Most would probably want to go back into the thick of things and mingle with the crowd again. But from what Lady Celta had told him earlier, he thought she might want to stay out for a while. Percival just hoped she would not be bored by his company. He was not exactly as bubbly and charming as Sir Gwaine or as confident as Sir Leon.
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 11, 2011 19:36:59 GMT -5
It was not normal to laugh in a situation like this. If she were like the other women in that room, she'd yell at him, cry, storm off and demand servants to clean her up, and overall make a complete spectacle of Percival and herself in doing so. Yet, she would never humiliate someone for being clumsy, as she was the exact same way. She instead laughed it off as she would, walked outside with him, and changed into something that left her able to breathe again.
With a hugely relieved smile, she emerged from the guest room to stand face to face with Percival again, but not before she told the maidservant thank you and bowed respectfully to her. The other woman left the two of them alone again, and Celta casually nodded at the goblet and spoke as he handed it to her. She didn't speak again til after she took a long sip of the wine inside and exhaled a deep sigh of contentment. This is where she felt comfortable. With a few people, drinking, talking about things other than marriage, politics, and status with money, and overall being happy and carefree.
"Thank you, Sir Percival," she smiled at him once more and listened as he asked whether she wanted to return to the festivities or not, and she shot a quick, unsure glance at the door to the hall before shaking her head. "If you do not mind, I would like to remain out here, just for a bit longer. I don't want to go back to the nobles just yet." She wasn't ready to jump into the crazy lion's den again and have every criticize her for changing and not making a big deal like she should have. And then she turned back and smiled at him as if to tell him he had nothing to be worried about. She looked around for a good place to walk and talk, and then she glanced at him again.
"If you wish to go back to the party, you can go. I'm sure the knights keep a merrier, more talkative company than I do," she told him with that same soft smile but a look in her eyes that told she had seen more sadness than she should in her 21 years as she pointed her arm behind them and shrugged it off casually. She would like to talk to the knight some more, get to know him better, but it was his choice whether he wished to stay or not. She would not judge him either way he went.
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Post by shonz on Oct 11, 2011 22:16:33 GMT -5
True enough, the lady asked that they remain away from the partying crowd for the moment. It intrigued Percival how someone born of nobility could consider herself not fit to be one of them. He watched as Lady Celta cast a quick and unsure glance at the door leading back to festivities, joyous laughter and the merry clinking of glasses and plates echoing from within. He fought back the urge to ask her why, but it was definitely not his place to do so. Right now, all that was needed of him was to keep her company until such time she would be ready to go back in there and mingle with the crowd once again.
"If you wish to go back to the party, you can go. I'm sure the knights keep a merrier, more talkative company than I do."
"Oh, they are quite a merry bunch," Percival replied with a chuckle. He could clearly hear Gwaine and Elyan's loud laughter from where he was standing. However, it was no question which one between the knights and the Lady Celta would be more preferrable company. While he wasn't exactly at ease with being around a lady, he wasn't an idiot to turn down an opportunity to spend some time with one as strikingly attractive as her. "I'd prefer to keep you company, unless you want me to leave..."
And besides, what kind of a knight would he be if he were to abandon a lady who was obviously in distress. The look in her eyes was anything but jolly at a happy celebration such as Arthur's coronation. Something was bothering her, worrying her. And Percival, ever the protective man that he is, was deeply concerned. Unless she preferred the company of someone else, Percival would gladly stay. "Do you need me to get someone else for you, my lady? Your mother, perhaps?" he asked just to be sure. Ladies in distress usually want their mother to comfort them, don't they?
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 11, 2011 22:40:40 GMT -5
The young noblewoman awaited his answer to her offer for him to return to his friends and brothers in arms if he so wished. He didn't seem like he was completely at ease with her just yet, and so she wouldn't press him to spend time with her. She didn't have to worry about it, though, since he began to chuckle. It greatly eased her spirits and made her feel even more relaxed around him, and she couldn't help but smile at his answer. A light laugh escaped her lips.
"Yes, for the most part. I have seen their determination and strength, though, and I know Arthur is safe as long as his knights are around, wine or no wine," she responded intelligently. She shook her head as she also heard the knights' laughter from where they were standing. Percival told her he would like to stay with her instead of going back to the party, and she smiled up at him warmly. "No, sir, I would like it if you kept me company as well."
He seemed concerned at the look on her face, and she was about to try to smile again when he asked if she would rather her mother were here with her. The look on her face froze as images of her real mother, Caly, flashed through her mind quickly. She swallowed hard and felt hot tears prickling the backs of her eyes, and she quickly looked down and broke eye contact with the tall and kind knight. She knew he had been talking about Edella, but the way he said it, he had no idea she was adopted. Not a lot of the court in Camelot truly knew what happened with her family, the real reason she was adopted. But he had no idea, he couldn't be blamed for not realizing he had brought up her dead mother.
"...No. My adoptive mother, Edella, is better talking and laughing with the other ladies inside," Celta finally managed to speak quietly, before staring up at him again. "I do not need her. I'd rather you stay." She didn't want to scare him off by her reaction, and she hoped that he didn't think she was even more odd. She wanted to explain herself if he gave her the chance.
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Post by shonz on Oct 12, 2011 1:07:26 GMT -5
Her thoughts about the knights somehow made Percival feel all warm and full of pride. To hear someone of nobility say kind words about them, it was a big thing. He had been apprehensive when Arthur had officially welcomed them and introduced them to the other knights. Knights of noble birth, knights who had been trained to fight since birth, compared to him and his bunch who were practically just stragglers of common birth who just happen to cross paths with the young prince and helped him take Camelot back from Morgana. Even though Arthur had treated them all the same, maybe even more special than his other knights, Percival had initially expected to be looked down upon simply because he was not of noble blood. To hear Lady Celta say it, to talk about all the knights without distinguishing between the old and the new, it meant a lot to him.
More so when the fine lady expressed that she liked him to keep her company. His face broke into a huge smile when she said that, but then suddenly it turned into a frown when Lady Celta's face froze at the mention of her mother. He felt a loud thudding in his chest, fearful that he had said something wrong or brought up some bad memories. That was the last thing he needed, just when the lady just agreed to his company.
She spoke about the Lady Edella being her adoptive mother. Percival didn't know that. He didn't know much about the nobles of Camelot really, and he took a mental note to know more about them when the time permits. Perhaps, he could ask Guinevère or Sir Leon who had been in Camelot for most of their lives.
"I'm sorry I...I didn't know," he apologized profusely, knowing full well he had indeed caused her to think about it. He knew how that felt. He had experienced it after all, he too had lost his mother. "My mother, my entire family, died in the hands of the mercenary armies of King Cenred. The same army that raided Camelot with the Lady Morgana. I know how you feel," Percival spoke hoping she would understand that he wasn't being insensitive, and that he knew exactly what his question had made her remember.
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 12, 2011 8:38:32 GMT -5
She saw him frown at her quick change of mood from happy to haunted and did her best imitation of another smile to comfort him; however, her lips fell into a frown again, and she dropped her eyes when he apologized once more for something that wasn't his fault. He could not have known what happened in the past, so how was he to know that what he had said struck bad memories within her. And then she heard him speak once more, and her heart ached for him.
So he had lost his family as well. Her head snapped back up with wide eyes as she heard his brief but terrible past of how his family died by the hands of the monster people named King Cenred. He was a ruthless tyrant who was also sadistic, greedy, and evil. He obviously did not care who he killed as long as he got money, power, and satisfaction from it. And as long as he remained king. Her hand lifted up to his arm, where she laid it gently to reassure him he was not alone. Celta swallowed hard and took a deep breath and a sip of wine before she began.
"I am so sorry for those you lost, Sir Percival," she told him grimly. "And you couldn't have known about my family. They were murdered when I was twelve. I would be dead as well had I not promised my older brother that I would stay hidden while the men were there. I watched them kill him and my mother. And then they set my house on fire and left. I tried to get to them, but the next thing I remember, I was waking up alone outside of my home. Someone had gotten me out before the fire had gotten to me..." Celta paused for a moment to glance at Percival and squeeze his arm with her arm softly. There were tears in her eyes.
"When my father returned home that day and saw what had happened...I'd never seen an angrier man. It was as though nothing matter but revenge. He abandoned me there, and I left Mercia. The only thing I have as to a clue of who the murderers are is this." She pulled her necklace off and handed it to him. On it was a ring with a crest that was unknown to her, and she waited to see if he knew what it meant somehow.
She didn't mean for the conversation to go this way, but it fell into place this way. Things just happened. Her eyes searched his with a sadness they both shared.
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Post by shonz on Oct 13, 2011 11:41:53 GMT -5
Percival gave Lady Celta a small and shy smile when she reached a hand out to squeeze his arm and comfort him. Are those tears he saw in her eyes? He couldn't believe someone like her, a noble, would feel that way towards someone like him. Sure he may be a knight, but it was widespread knowledge all over Camelot that he was just a commoner before becoming one.
Then she told him her story, about her family, the loved ones she, too, had lost. His heart went out to her as she told him how she was made to hide no matter what happened when the murderers came. At that moment, Percival saw a flitting image of his little sister Millicent hiding, just like a young Lady Celta did, as Cenred's men raided and burned down his own village. Sadly, unlike the lady, Millicent did not survive the fire. It was rather unbelievable how he and the lady had quite similar pasts, and sad ones at that. No wonder he was drawn to her. It was that similarity, that pain from losing loved ones, that created then pull.
He looked at the necklace she handed her, pensively listening to what her father had done to her. It was sad to know a father could easily leave his daughter at a time like that. Percival couldn't quite understand that bit. He knew that his father wouldn't leave them no matter the circumstances. He knew he himself wouldn't leave his family. He desperately wished he knew the crest on the ring that Lady Celta had shown him for he wanted to help. Unfortunately, it was unfamiliar, but he did commit the insignia to memory hoping he could ask Geoffrey of Monmouth or search the archives for it.
"I wish I knew what it means or where it belongs. I will however try my best to help you in any way I can," he told her, reassured her like the brave and noble knight that he is. At the heartbreaking sadness in her eyes, Percival tried to give her a smile to comfort her. He took her hand in his, and placed her necklace on her palm. He closed her fingers over the necklace, and placed his other hand over them. "My father always told me that things will always turn out well in the end if we just keep the faith and keep going." Somehow, just because of a share or similar past, Percival felt an instant bond towards the Lady Celta. He felt like he would help and protect her like he would his own friends and family. They may have only just met, but Percival knew they connected.
Offering her his most widest and genuine smile, Percival asked. "Do you wish to get some air? It's getting rather stiffling in here," he asked her, and gestured to lead the Lady Celta towards the courtyards where the people of Camelot were also celebrating.
"Do you still want to see your father? Are you looking for him?" he asked as they walked, curious if Celta was already very content with her own adoptive parents now that she couldn't be bothered with finding the father who abandoned her anymore.
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 13, 2011 13:40:42 GMT -5
Celta was glad that he seemed comforted by her compassion because a man so gentle and kind did not deserve such a fate. He lost his entire family as she did, and she couldn't imagine the pain of knowing a king killed his people and he couldn't do anything about it. Celta always knew if she found the men responsible, she would take revenge. But now...listening to his speak of what he could not change and seeing how he did not seek revenge but rather kept their memory and moved forward, it made her somewhat rethink her decision. Was revenge really the best thing for her?
The young woman told him her story and saw how he was sad for her as well, and it tugged at her heart. So she was not alone in her pain and grief...there was someone here who truly understood what she had been through and the feelings that would never go away. Percival was someone who couldn't judge her for acting the way she did or feeling as though the world would sometimes swallow you whole, and it made her feel even better when he offered to help wherever he could.
"Thank you," she answered with a true smile at him as he took her hand. She looked up at him for a long moment, and then at the necklace in their joined hands before her placed his other hand over it. Her eyes returned to look at him, and the sadness faded slowly as he told her what his father said. Celta smiled softly and nodded once, and she knew he would keep his word of helping her, in this matter and for the future. She felt a connection with Sir Percival, not just because of their similar pasts, but also because of the noble knight that he was.
No, she didn't mean noble by status or birth, but noble as a man who had gone through hell and back and instead of falling apart, he rose above it and became a Knight of Camelot, a man who would risk his life to save others over himself. Title meant nothing compared to what these men do every day to keep the kingdom of Camelot safe. He was smiling again, a relaxed and wide smile on his face, and she couldn't help but join in.
"I think air sounds lovely," she smiled and began walking next to him towards the courtyards. "I need to at least know if my father is still alive...he's the only true family I have left..." she looked at him thoughtfully. "I am closer to Edella than my adoptive father, Hadrian...I don't know, there's just something I don't completely trust about him. He's trying to force me to marry, but I refuse...how can I marry someone I do not love?" Celta sighed.
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Post by shonz on Oct 15, 2011 8:11:01 GMT -5
Bashfully, Percival returned her thanks with another shy smile. He knew he'd never get used to the attention that the people of Camelot were giving him and his fellow knights. Back in his small village, it was natural for people to say hello whenever they meet or for nothing at all. He knew everyone there. But here in Camelot, it was different. For one, it was bigger, and there were more people. And two, he was no ordinary carpenter's son anymore. He was a knight, and even though he didn't know most of the people, they knew him. And they have this certain way of looking up at the Knights of Camelot, with awe and a reverence that is second only to the royal family. Percival still felt uncomfortable at times, but he knew he needed to get used to it. Lady Celta's genuine expression of gratitude certainly made Percival feel all warm and accepted, although still rather shy about it.
The cool night breeze and the jovial merriment in the courtyards where the people of Camelot were celebrating helped ease Percival. It was nice to be out here, breathing the fresh evening air, and being surrounded by music and laughter. He hoped Lady Celta didn't mind it one bit. She did say she wanted to be away from the nobles for a moment.
He listened attentively as she told him about her feelings towards her father. Somehow, he was glad that she had not harbored ill feelings towards him to want to wish him dead. "If there's anything I can do to help you find your father, you only need to tell me, my lady," Percival offered kindly. He was not offering because he was a Knight of Camelot and that he was honor-bound to help those in need. He was offering because family was just as important to him as it was for her. And besides, he was starting to feel a certain fondness towards Lady Celta as his new-found friend.
His brows furrowed in confusion when she talked about Sir Hadrian, her adoptive father. That's always a thing that never ceased to puzzle him about nobles. Sure, they need to marry off their women into noble families to protect the name and increase wealth and all that regardless of whether they liked it or not. He just couldn't understand why women just easily agree to it. Isn't love not important to these people anymore? Is wealth really all that matters to them? He had seen Sir Hadrian up and about Camelot, and he understood why Celta doesn't completely trust him. There was something about the man that makes you feel like he's up to something wicked or corrupt. "I admire you for standing up to him like that, but wouldn't that get you in trouble?" he asked curiously and with worry written on his face.
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Offline
Jul 4, 2012 12:16:51 GMT -5
Tag me @celtameiru
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Post by Celta Meiru on Oct 16, 2011 20:04:01 GMT -5
Celta felt more at home outside of the castle, like she fit in with the working class folk than the upper class snobs of the court. There was some in that number she could consider different, but overall, it was a nasty bunch for her to be near about ninety nine percent of the time. Arthur was one she would lay down her life for, and now, so was Percival. He had qualities of a true noble and a knight, and she found that extremely admirable about him. He didn't let the knighthood get to his head. So, unlike her normal self, she had allowed herself to walk with one of Camelot's finest knights, and talked to him as though he were an old and close friend.
She never allowed herself to get close to anyone she did not know, for she did not want to lose anyone else. It was different with her adoptive family because they took her in when she had no one or nothing else in her favor at that time, and now she was paying back their, kindness, if you will. But here she was telling this man who had been a stranger at the beginning of the night her entire life story, pretty much. It felt both strange and comforting to talk to Percival about everything that had happened. It felt normal.
She diverted her attention to the joviality of the commoners for a long moment, smiling from ear to ear as a group of couples danced to a quick beat of the musicians and laughed as they twirled and stepped around. She openly relaxed and even clapped when the dancers finished the song. Laughing, she looked back at Percival as the next song started up. He seemed to be enjoying himself out here as well, and she liked that he was neither offended or awkward about being surrounded by the types of people she grew up around.
"Thank you, Percival. If there are any new developments, you will be one of the first to know," she said without thinking. Realizing her mistake, she cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to use your name so improperly. It's a bad habit of mine." Smiling, she attempted to shrug it off and hoped he would do the same. She quickly changed the subject to the next thing he had told her. "Trouble? That should have been my middle name. It seems that it follows me everywhere, or I'm in the middle of it. I don't know why. I just don't know when to be quiet and follow the crowd sometimes..." She slightly hung her head, thinking of all the recent arguments she had with Hadrian about marriage.
Suddenly, some of the musicians and couples seemed to notice Celta standing there and started waving her over to dance. She laughed and put her hands up, about to decline, when they started to plead and take her hands. She had been to a few commoner parties and danced with them, but she was talking to Sir Percival, and she did not want to leave him standing there while she danced. Glancing over at him, she wondered what he thought about it.
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Post by shonz on Oct 17, 2011 12:19:58 GMT -5
Percival was glad to see that Lady Celta was enjoying himself in this crowd. In fact, she looked more at home here than when she was inside. He joined in her mirth as they watched the joyous dancing and the happy merry-making all around them.
More importantly though, Percival was glad that the Lady Celta was becoming comfortable with his company. She had not only told him about her life, she had somehow entrusted him with her thoughts and plans, things you normally don't trust to tell strangers. Maybe she had felt the connection he was feeling towards her as well. Somehow, Percival couldn't help but see his little sister Millicent in her. They were both feisty and stubborn in the their own little way. Percival could feel a transfer of affection happening. He may have lost his sister, but who's to say he can't care for anyone the same way. True enough, he knew he would do anything to help and protect Lady Celta. Funny how messy accidents involving clumsiness wine could turn out into this.
Percival only shook his head and laughed when she apologized for "using his name improperly." "My name is Percival. Nothing wrong with calling me by my name, is there?" he replied with his trademark wide and genuine smile. Being called "Sir Percival" actually took quite a lot of getting used to. Hearing Lady Celta simply call him "Percival" somehow made him feel like things hadn't changed much after all, that he was still the same old guy that he always was and will be even with the title.
He couldn't quite picture her as being in trouble or being always in the middle of it. Somehow, he couldn't imagine this pretty and dainty lady all stubborn and rebellious. "As long as you don't get hurt...as long as he doesn't hurt you..." Percival replied simply. That was all that matters for him. She can always speak her mind out but he hoped her adoptive father would not hurt her for defying him.
When he saw the musicians and dancers gesture to Lady Celta to dance with them, Percival nodded and prodded her on. She seemed to be hesitating at his account, and Percival wouldn't want it that way. Dancing could surely take some heat off their rather serious conversation. He reached out to get the goblet of wine from her hand, and nodded for her to go and dance with the couples, encouraging her on.
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