The castle seemed empty now – there were no playful jokes, or pranks; there was no more laughing echoing through the corridors from one of the knights' chambers and there were no more midnight feasts. Camelot tried to continue as normal, at least, the knights closest to Arthur did, but nothing was the same with him. Everything was dull, and boring, and everybody moved like clockwork. It was the same day after day after day. They fell into the same old routine.
Percival had noticed a substantial energy drop in Gwaine – before Lancelot had died he had been the guy that everyone picked on and he didn't seem to mind because he got exactly what he gave out; now he moved slowly and always held a sombre expression. The two of them were close, very close in fact; close enough for him to know that he wasn't just grieving the loss of Lancelot like the rest of them were – this ran a lot deeper than losing a friend.
"What's wrong?" Percival muttered as he sat himself down next to Gwaine in his chambers – the other knight hadn't turned up for breakfast and that was when Percival knew something was definitely wrong.
"Wrong?" Gwaine repeated, cocking an eyebrow in Percival's direction, "Why would something be wrong?"
"You weren't at breakfast."
"I don't have much of an appetite right now," Gwaine rose from the bed and tried to walk away from his questioning friend, but Percival caught his arm and stopped him in his tracks, not letting go.
"That's how I know something is wrong."
"In case you haven't noticed, Lancelot's dead. Now take your hand off of me." There was loathing in Gwaine's voice, but not hatred towards Percival, or Arthur for not doing what he had promised to do. It was for himself.
"Yes I know Lancelot's dead. We're all hurting Gwaine, but you're not just upset because of that! I know you, better than anybody; now tell me what's wrong." Percival pressed on, keeping his eyes fixed on his friend. Gwaine stood still for a moment, wondering whether or not to tell somebody what was on his mind. He wasn't fond of sharing his thoughts or feelings.
After a second of hesitation, Gwaine sat back down on his bed and dismissed the servant who had been tidying up throughout the conversation.
"I should've done something."
"Something?" Percival questioned, more gentle and tentative than how he was before, not wanting to cause a scene.
"I was there too, you saw me go. I went with Merlin, Arthur and Lancelot… I should have stopped Lancelot from sacrificing himself…."
"Why? Why did it have to be your job?"
"Because I'm a knight!" Gwaine exclaimed, "I'm a knight and I'm supposed to be this big, brave hero that puts everybody else before himself and saves everybody and I'm not, Percival, I'm not. I'm not. I can fight, sure, I'm strong but that's it. I'm not Lancelot and I should have been. Camelot needs knights like him, not ones like me."
As Gwaine trailed off, Percival sat and thought for a moment – how was he supposed to reply to that? Nobody was as brave as Lancelot was; only Lancelot would take Arthur's place in order for Camelot to still have its prince. Percival placed a comforting hand on Gwaine's shoulder and gave him a weak smile.
"It's not your fault." He assured him, "I would have been exactly the same."
"I don't want to be like my father – he died in battle, and I don't want to do that. I love the risks and the fighting, but it's not like I want to die. At least not anymore."
Percival frowned, "What do you mean? Not anymore?"
Gwaine's hand found Percival's that was on his shoulder and he took it in his, "You're a good friend Percival. You're more than a good friend, you're a great friend… you're… you're more than that."
"Is this because I saved your life?"
"No! No, no… well, partly… but you're just so…" Gwaine stopped himself and stood up before clearing his throat, "I should… go…" He muttered quickly, letting go of Percival's hand. Suddenly he fled from the room – not a brave knight, indeed.
The night had gone down like every single other one – Gwaine getting very drunk, and one of them having to take him back to his chambers. Usually it would have been Lancelot, but Percival decided to volunteer this time, still curious about what Gwaine was saying to him before. It was probably a big mistake to ask, but he needed to find out what he was talking about.
"Gwaine," Percival plonked his friend onto the bed, who lay back and chuckled to himself.
"Yeees?" He murmured before sitting up and grabbing Percival by his shoulders, "What do you want?"
"What were you talking about earlier…? About me being more than a great friend?"
Gwaine just laughed and shushed him with a finger on his lips, "you don't need to say anything."
"I was just curious."
"You know what I'm curious about?" Gwaine asked, and Percival shook his head, not too sure what to think about the fact that his nose was brushing against Gwaine's, who was still holding his shoulders tightly.
The next thing happened in an instant, and Percival felt a mix of emotions – surprise, for one; but also happiness, like he was glad that Gwaine had just kissed him. Was that what he meant? Percival gasped slightly and tried to stumble backwards but Gwaine had a vice grip on him and he refused to let him go. The drunken knight stared at Percival, waiting for some kind of positive reaction, and it wasn't long until he got one as he was pushed back down onto the bed, a pair of lips finding his own.
"You know something else, Percival?" Gwaine grinned after parting for some air.
"What?" Percival breathed heavily, staring down at the other man.
"I never knew you cared."