Fresh Air (Arthur)

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Percival was out walking around the grounds of the castle trying to shake the tiredness from his system. He'd woken up and needed to get out for a bit, stretch, and get some fresh air. The tonic he'd taken earlier was wearing off, but with it, his pain was increasing. While the tonic he'd been given had helped a lot with the pain, it made him tired. The warmth of the sun felt good on him, as did the slight breeze that touched his exposed skin. His shoulder hurt, but it was nothing he couldn't handle, especially with the help of tonics for his pain. While he was not in his chainmail or cape, his sword was strapped to his waist around his tunic. He knew he was not supposed to train or exert himself physically until he was more healed, but he was not going to walk around without his sword. He nodded at a few knights and other people he passed going about their business for the day.

He couldn't help but think about how lucky he had been. If it had hit him in a different spot, or hit him harder, maybe he wouldn't be standing here. He knew, as a knight, he had to be prepared to die for the King and Queen and Camelot. And he was, without a doubt. He had fought with the other knights many times, and would gladly give his life. Their was honor in a death such as that. Percival took a deep breath, allowing the smell of the flowers from the nearby garden to hit his nose. He stopped walking suddenly, wincing some as a sharp pain came from his would. Pausing until it subsided, he moved over to a nearby wall, and leaned heavily against it. He hated being injured, and feeling useless to Camelot.

Timeline: End of Death Song of Uther
Time: Mid-morning
Place: Grounds
Tag: King Arthur Pendragon

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was desperate to clear his head. How could he do this? How could his father be so cruel? He had attacked a man who had risked his life countless times to protect Camelot. And then attacked a woman that he knew Arthur loved with all his heart. How could his father be so dismissive of Arthur's feelings and judgment? It made Arthur wonder if Uther truly would have killed him, had he been given the chance. No. Arthur couldn't believe that. His father had died for him. Yet . . . he knocked him unconscious so that he could rule the kingdom the way he wanted to. He didn't trust Arthur with it anymore. And these last memories of his father, made Arthur desperately wish he had never blown that horn. He could have lived with the hope that his father would be proud of him, but now was forced to endure the reality that he was a failure of a son, and a failure as a king in his father's eyes.

It was such a weight to carry. Almost as heavy as the guilt he felt for what happened to both Guinevère and Percival. His wife was nearly burned, and Percival could have died just as easily. How close he had come to losing two people he loved, one as his wife, the other as a brother. And it all would have been at the hands of his father, someone else he loved. Why was it, that those he had grown up with, those he most cared for . . . were the most vindictive. Were so determined to see him suffer, and attack those he cares for. First Morgana, then Agravaine, and now Uther. How had he wronged these people? He wished he knew. He wished he had the answers so that he could determine that moment where they decided they did not care for him. Such thoughts were what plagued the king's mind, and caused him to walk aimlessly on the grounds of the castle.

It wasn't until he saw a figure in the distance -- one that was not easy to miss -- that he pulled himself from his thoughts and focused more on his surroundings. "Percival," he greeted, approaching him. It seemed Arthur wasn't the only one who was deep in thought. "How are you feeling?" He asked, glancing at where he was wounded before meeting his gaze again. What had happened to him, what had happened to Guinevère . . . was his own fault. Whether they blamed him or not, Arthur knew in his heart that it was his own fault. For it was a man of his blood who had done this, and it was Arthur's failure in protecting them. He could only be grateful that the injuries were not more severe.

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Percival was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when he heard his name. Scanning his surroundings quickly, his eyes fell on the king. ”Arthur,” he greeted in return, relaxing some as he did so. He did not fail to notice Arthur looking at his injury. It was not his fault. Though maybe Arthur was concerned because he was down a knight. As soon as Gaius gave him approval he would be back. Well, in all honesty, he would probably be back before then. He could fight through the pain. He would fight through the pain.

He paused at Arthur's question. As much as he wanted too, Percival could not say he was fine. Deep down he knew he was far from fine. If he was fine, he would have been given stuff for the pain, or restricted from fighting and training. It was against everything he stood for to lie to Arthur, his king, and his friend. Both as a knight, and just as the man he was. So, he thought through his words very carefully before he spoke. ”I will be back protecting the people of Camelot before you know it,” he said giving Arthur a smile that did not really reach his eyes. While it didn't really answer Arthur's question, it was not really a lie either. He would be back to fighting soon, the only one who could stop him from doing so, was the man he was looking at.

”How is the Queen doing?” he asked, wanting to change the subject away from himself, while also genuinely concerned for her well-being. She was always kind to him, and he would protect her with his life as well.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur smiled as well, hearing Percival assure him that he will be back to his duties soon enough. How similar they were. Arthur was all too familiar with that feeling of being injured, and thus agitated; feeling helpless and powerless to do anything but let the wound heal. It was why he didn't often take the time to let it heal. But as king, he had the advantage of making sure that his knights took that time. "I believe it," he told him encouragingly. "But I do not want you to return to your duties until your injury is fully healed," he told him. "Until Gaius says you are ready to return, ensure that you get adequate rest." He didn't want him rushing into anything and as Arthur previously decided, would make sure that didn't happen.

"How is the Queen doing?" Arthur forced his smile to remain, knowing that it was good news however that weighing guilt continued to be felt, causing his smile to slip ever so slightly."Gaius assures me she will be fine," he answered, though Arthur would not stop worrying for her until she was fully healed. "She is still recovering, and it will take time, but she will be alright." Thank goodness. He didn't know what he would do without her. Seeing Percival on his feet was a massive relief. Now, he just needed to see his wife moving about, for that final assurance that she was truly alright. And that his father had not succeeded what he tried to do in any way.

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Percy nodded when Arthur spoke, leaning back heavily on the wall. ”I understand,” he replied. Arthur did not say it was a direct order, but Percy was far from stupid. He could tell by the king's tone he was serious. Percy had known him a number of years, never had he disobeyed him. He respected him, both as a king, and a friend. As much as it would frustrate him to no end not to train with his brothers, he would not defy Arthur. Besides, he had a feeling Arthur would verify with Gaius healed enough to return to duty. If he were in Arthur's position, he would probably do the same thing.

He noticed the slight falter in Arthur's smile, and regretted bringing it up. "She is still recovering, and it will take time, but she will be alright.” He gave Arthur a small smile and said, That is good news.” He was glad Guinevère was going to be alright. She meant a lot to Arthur and the people of Camelot. Percy cared for her as a friend, and wished no harm come to her.

”Sire... if you have a moment, there is something I wish to ask you,” he said, pausing and looking at Arthur with a serious expression on his face. ”Something Sir Leon mentioned earlier to some of us.” Some of them being Gwaine, Elyan, and himself. It had amused them. He only wished he had been the one to see it with his own two eyes. Keep a straight face, he reminded himself, fighting the urge to smile and laugh. ”How is your poetry learning coming?” he managed to get out between laughs. He was downright grinning now, and laughing so hard he could hardly breathe.