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Arthur knew that Percival was asking him a question, but all he could focus on was the use of his titles. He knew it was a habit for most, but right now . . . he hated the reminder of who he was. His position had created so much inconvenience, caused so much pain. Had he not been a prince, he and Guinevère could have been married long ago. Their lives would not have been in the public eye. And yet, that nagging question of whether she always had preferred Lancelot rung in his mind. Had she just settled for him, because he was committed to her? Or worse . . . had she felt some sort of obligation to be with him because of his title -- another reason he detested it right now. He hated that such a thought came to mind, yet after her actions, there were many doubts about the past couple of years that they had been together. "There's no need to call me that," he said in a short tone, immediately regretting it as soon as the words fell from his mouth.

He knew it wasn't fair to snap at Percival. None of this was the knight's fault. All the more reason Arthur had rather go alone, so that he would not have to be rude to those he called brothers. Perhaps they would understand, but that still gave him no right to lash out at them. Odd. How these men were his brothers and yet, he would have most certainly killed Lancelot had Guinevère not intervened. Would Leon, Percival, Gwaine and Elyan all look at him the same way? Or would they have resented him for killing one of their own? Or would they have understood why Arthur did it? "My apologies," he added, trying to clear his head enough to focus on the task at hand. "There are no specific reports of activity in the area. But it has not been patrolled for some time now." To answer his question. He knew it was safe to focus on business but again, these were the knights he was closest to. And with that, came the inability to pretend to be someone else.

Arthur smiled in hearing Percival's response. His words seemed so genuine and that was all the more reason Arthur was glad for his decision. Why even his father could never talk him out of it. The men he had knighted had risked their lives with no thought of reward. They did not have expectations of being given gold or wealth in return for their actions. They selflessly went with him, risking their lives for Camelot. For him. Never had he known a greater loyalty than that which existed between these knights in addition to Sir Leon. "Arthur," he corrected with a bit of a smile. "Arthur is fine," he added. When it was just them, or even just the knights, he didn't want titles to affect the way they interacted.

Of course at larger gatherings, more formal ones, it would be different. But when it was just them, he preferred informality. And hoped that the knights would feel comfortable enough around him to do so. Perhaps not right away, but eventually. "How are you finding your way around?" Arthur asked, wondering if he was gaining familiarity with his surroundings. He knew the castle was rather large, not too difficult to get lost in. Which is why he had shown the knights the main areas that they would need to get to: chambers, grand hall, throne room, armory and then of course the training ground. But of course, he just wanted to check and see how Percival was faring with it all.

Arthur was in a rather jovial mood. And why shouldn't he be? The woman he loved had agreed to marry him. While he knew that she loved him, he was of course nervous about the whole idea. He had come so close to marriage a few times before . . . Sophia, Vivian, Elena . . . but this time, he actually truly loved the woman he was to wed. And he could not imagine his future with any other. They would be happy together, he knew they would be. As part of a wedding present, it was tradition to hold a jousting tournament. His father had done the same for his mother, and Arthur wished to keep to this tradition. He knew Guinevère enjoyed the simpler things in life, and would certainly ensure to gift her with things more to her taste. He already had an idea of how to do that. But as everything about them and their relationship broke tradition, they decided to at least keep one. From a servant and a king falling in love, to them planning to share a chamber . . . yes. Their relationship was indeed far from traditional. But Arthur had learned that breaking tradition certainly had his advantages.

In fact, he was on his way to see pure proof of that, for in breaking another tradition, he had gained four -- now three -- brothers. Ones who all held exceptional skill with a sword. But the problem today was perfecting their skill with a lance. Percival wanted to participate in the tournament, and Arthur felt privileged and honored that he wished to do so. It was why he wanted to help him learn the rules and be able to hit his target. So that he would be good competition and hopefully best some of the others. Percival had the strength to take down an army of men with his bare hands . . . but with jousting, he just needed form as it was a learned sport. "Percival," Arthur greeted smiling, clad in his chain mail in preparation for today's lesson. His eyes glanced around before he continued speaking. "Merlin should be arriving any moment with practice lances and shields." He better, or Arthur would have to teach him what happens when he's late.

It did not take long for Percival to descend and mount his horse in preparation for this mornings patrols. "Sir Percival," Arthur greeted in return with the same formality in his voice. Once the knight was ready, Arthur pulled the reigns on his horse so that it would turn and begin to head in the directions of the Darkling Woods, where they would commence the patrol. The further they got from the city, the better. Even if it was just for a few hours. Arthur knew he could not avoid the whispers forever . . . he would eventually have to return. And then discuss matters with council. The question of what would have happened to Lancelot still raced in his mind. He doubted he would ever be able to execute him. Yet . . . also wondered that if he had banished him, would he and Guinevère find their way to each other? He hated that such thoughts were still on his mind, for he knew that she was gone. Gone, possibly never to be seen again. At least by him.

And it seemed that that was the way it had to be. That was the choice she had made: Lancelot, not him. And yet, he wondered what the knights were thinking. Especially Elyan. Had any of them known? No. Surely not. Right? Had it really just been Arthur who was completely oblivious? Who was so foolish? Who had missed all the signs ever since Lancelot re-entered everyone's lives? How could he have. How could he have been so . . . naive. Been so set on happiness when it was clear that the future held a different plan for them all. He wished he could stop dwelling on these thoughts, yet knew they would consume him for many days to come. He needed to think of something else, yet could find no words to speak at the moment as he rode alongside Percival. "We will be patrolling the western side of the kingdom this morning." Yes. Business. That seemed like a safe subject. Arthur was not usually one who talked too much . . . so while he did not need conversation, he still filled the silence. If only to keep from focusing on all the thoughts that rushed through his mind.

While there was still a great deal that needed to be done in the kingdom, Arthur couldn't help but feel a small wave of relief. Having gained new brothers, seeing that everyone came out of it alive . . . these were the things he needed to hold on to. These were the things he needed to focus on. For if he did not, he would only focus on Morgana. On the pain her betrayal had caused. And unfortunately, that was exactly what his father was doing. He was consumed with grief, barley able to function because of it. It was clear that he was a broken man. And it was clear that Arthur would have to stand as acting king. The thought terrified him, but he kept a calm and confident appearance about the notion. He had to. Camelot needed him to; the people, his father . . . he needed to be king, until his father recovered. Because Arthur could not accept that his father was too far gone to be healed. Having just finished a meeting with council and then a short visit with his father before the king rested.

Arthur then made his way outside, wanting to enjoy just a moment of the weather before having to busy himself with everything else. The kingdom required reparations as so much as destroyed during the attack. But they were underway now. And hopefully, fate would be kind and grant them an era of peace, however temporary, so that they could rebuild the city and castle. As he walked outside he saw a familiar face, causing a small smile to form on his lips. Percival. One of the four men who represented Camelot's entrance to a new era. One where men were knighted not because of noble blood, but because of their noble hearts. And these four men, along with Leon, were the most honorable men Arthur had ever known. "How does it feel?" Arthur asked, taking a few steps toward his newest brother of arms. He was of course referring to the chain mail, though Percival had already been wearing it when they first met. They had to of course ensure that he had the best quality, for he was a knight now. One of his best.

Relief did not even begin to describe what Arthur was feeling right now. He had been so afraid for the knights and Guinevère, terrified even, that the worst had happened to them. The determined search had indeed paid off for he made it just in time to keep the Lamia from killing Merlin and Guinevère, and they had made it in time to even heal Elyan, Leon, Percival and Gwaine. They were all going to be fine, thank god. Arthur had already briefly greeted Percival as he was the first to awake. They would need to rest for they had at least half a day's journey ahead of them, and Arthur didn't want to push any of them. They were in Longestead, and safe for the time being. No more lamia's or other bizarre creatures threatened this area, not any more. The outcome had been most ideal: the creature was dead and everyone made it out alive. Arthur could not have asked for anything better.

He was sitting outside with a small bowl of food. It brought to mind years ago, how Guinevère had scolded him for being ungrateful and judgmental of the simple food that villagers had. How much he had learned from then. For now, he felt nothing but enjoyment in it. It may be simple and not what he was used to, but none the less, it was good. It was something that would fill him. Maybe he was just in a good mood right now. Yes. That most likely contributed to the good taste of this. He was pulled from his thoughts when he saw Percival emerge from the small house he and the others were resting in. Arthur immediately rose to his feet, taking a few steps toward him. "Percival," he greeted, relief still on his face as he smiled at his friend. "How are you feeling?" He questioned, wondering if he remembered any of what had happened . . . for Arthur had received a rather detailed account of it from Guinevère and Merlin.

_{Setting: Longstead
Time of Day: Afternoon
Timeline: Near the end of Lamia, shortly after Percival wakes up
Tag: Sir Percival}

Arthur was wondering if this was truly possible. Possible to have a conversation with the woman he called sister. She did not seem to be getting ready to attack him, and he kept a distance between them which demonstrated that he was in no position to advance either, since his form of attack would be with sword but of course with hers, distance mattered not. She spoke of Uther, of his lies, of her hatred toward him. To be entirely honest, Arthur had been hurt by Uther's lies as well. Of course he had. His father had betrayed his mother; bedded another woman. Kept the child a secret from all. Yet with his father dead, he could not think on his lies and secrets. He could only think of the broken man who had hardly spoke a word in this past year. The man who sacrificed his life to protect his son . . . who died in Arthur's arms apologizing for being a poor father when Arthur never doubted his father's love for him. But Arthur also knew that he could not stand here justifying his father's actions, when Morgana's hatred for him was so deep.

It had taken years for that hatred toward their father to manifest and grow. Arthur was not naive enough to believe he could change her mind in the span of one conversation. "He loved you." That was all Arthur could say. Whether it was justification or not . . . Uther loved Morgana. The way he was when he'd lost her, was a clear sign of that. "You never gave us the chance Morgana," Arthur said in an almost whispered tone. Us; his father and him. Though, he could understand her reluctance in telling their father. But . . . "You never gave me the chance." That, was what hurt the most. That she sided with Morgause above him. That she trusted a woman she hardly knew for that time, more than the sibling who grew up with her. "I cannot deny that our father kept truth from both of us. But . . . we grew up together. You were my sister of heart long before discovering our relation by blood."

He paused for a moment, knowing that this conversation was getting far deeper and more emotional than he'd planned. Yet that did not stop him from asking his next question. "Why couldn't you trust me?" What had he done to scorn her? He knew that part of it had to be his fault. Surely, he must have done something to leave her so angry and bitter toward him and his family. To have this sudden desire for the throne. Was it all Morgause? She was a master of manipulation. But no. Morgana was a strong woman. Strong minded, strong willed . . . it was something Arthur always admired about her. She was capable of making her own decisions, she was no ones puppet. So then what. What had caused such a rift between them. He had thought for so long that everything was well in their relationship, when the entire time . . . she had been plotting his demise, as well as Uther's. Were there signs? Had he just been oblivious to them? Could he have saved her?

Arthur watched Mordred as he approached him, and the proceeded to kneel down before him and speak words that filled Arthur with sch honor. Ironically, for while it was Mordred who spoke of feeling honored, Arthur shared that feeling. To him, it was important to earn loyalty and respect from the people and his friends . . . and to know that he had earned Mordred's, meant a great deal to the young king. Arthur dug the tip of his sword into the ground so that it stood on its own. He then put each of his hands on Mordred's shoulders to help him rise to his feet. "That's not necessary Mordred," he told him in a calm, almost casual voice. It held no authority for to him, Mordred was nothing less than a friend.

"It is I who have the honor to call you friend. And with that title, I hope you find ease in calling me by my first name. For here, there is no rank, no title, no status." They were alone, in a training session. There was no need for formality. Besides, he wanted Mordred to feel comfortable in his presence. The other knights, those he was closest to, only referred to Arthur by title in public. But when they were on a mission, patrolling, or a place where it was just them . . . he often encouraged a more relaxed and casual environment. "And so let me give you the first lesson. Never refer to yourself as a nobody. You are a somebody. And I never want you to feel insignificant for it is men like you who define the term honor." And if Arthur thought differently, he never would have knighted Mordred. But he had a good feeling about him. A great feeling in fact. One that assured Arthur that he and Mordred would be good friends. Brothers of heart even.

Arthur smiled when she spoke of never having been able to guess that she would be doing this. "Good. I was going for the element of surprise. I'm glad it worked," he said, still smiling. Truth be told, he'd never taken a woman to the zoo before. Then again, he'd never met anyone quite like Guinevère before. Not only because she was the first to be carrying his child . . . but for many other reasons that he still didn't understand, nor could put into words. He was not going to spend today over thinking it. Instead, he was just going to enjoy what the day had in store for them, knowing that it was mostly enjoyable because of the company he was in right now.

The guide said something about feeding them, and Arthur reached out to take some of the leaves that the guide offered. He then passed it to Guinevère for her to take, noticing that one of the elephants was already making its way over to them. "Since you like feeding others," he said somewhat teasingly, though with truth. She had cooked for him, and had told him how she enjoyed cooking for others and such. Of course this was different, but still. He couldn't help but tease her for it.