This story happens about five years after the Battle at Camlann, as part of my general AU in which Merlin manages to save Arthur, and Percival gets Gwaine back to Camelot in time to be saved from the nathair poisoning. It started out as a short story for my Stocks stories, but took on a life of its own. You don't need to read any of the others for it too make sense, though. Merlin isn't mine.

The boy looked scared sitting on the low bench of the stocks, head hung low and thin arms wrapping around his waist while he tried to keep warm in the cool autumn air. Percival was in the market trying to buy a present for his wife before he returned to Camelot when he saw him. Selene was pregnant with their first child and he wanted to make sure she was kept happy, especially since Arthur had sent him away for a month while she was pregnant with said child.

The king had apologized when he had dispatched Percival to Mercia, but he still wanted to make sure someone who knew the kingdom well was the one to bring Bayard the information regarding a ring of bandits that was plaguing both countries. Percival was born here and still had a fondness for it. Selene had been very understanding, as long as Percival returned intact and in time for the baby's birth, that was.

Right now Percival let his gaze wander as he waited for the jeweler to wrap up the necklace he was now the proud owner of and noticed the boy in the stocks. Smiling a bit at the sight, because he'd never be able to look at a stocks and pillory without thinking of how he and Lancelot had met, he asked the jeweler what the boy had done.

"Ah, the little bastard stole some bread." The man's casual use of the word 'bastard' surprised Percival a bit.

Percival looked over at the boy, thin enough that he looked like he was just on the safe side of starving. "Looks like he needed it."

"Well, sure, but he can work for his money, just like everyone else."

"His mother doesn't support him?"

The jeweler snorted, "Her? Nah, she's respectable now. Found herself a husband that'll actually take care of her instead of lifting her skirts fer a bit of coin. 'Course, the husband wouldn't take on the boy, so he needs to make his own way." For a moment, the jeweler looked the tiniest bit softer, "I think I would have found him an apprenticeship, though, if I was Rosalie."

Percival nodded, feeling sorry for the boy. Obviously, this boy wouldn't find life opening up too many opportunities for him. The jeweler's words penetrated fully, at least the name of the boy's mother. "Rosalie?"

"The boy's mam."

"Red hair, tall?" Percival looked back at the boy and his gut clenched when he heard the jeweler answer in the affirmative. He accepted the wrapped parcel from the man and asked him where Rosalie lived now.

The jeweler cocked an eyebrow and looked at Percival with a sly grin as he answered. Percival shook his head and thanked him as he set off in the direction the jeweler pointed out.

The little house Percival knocked at was well-kept. The perfect size for a small family or a very friendly large one. The door opened and Percival found himself face to face with a memory from his past. The woman gave him a once-over, a remnant from her days in trade, if you will, before shifting the baby she had on her hip and greeting him. "Can I help you?"

"Rosalie?"

"That would be me."

Percival paused, "I guess you don't remember me, then."

The tall woman's mouth tightened, "Look, I don't know what you think you were going to find coming here, but I'm an honest woman now. I don't need any customers, thank you." She started to turn away, but Percival held out his hand.

"Not me. I never visited you. My friend did. Lancelot." He watched the recognition dawn on her face.

"Oh, my gods, you're the big one, Parsi-something."

"Percival. It's Percival. May I come in?"

Rosalie looked around nervously, "I hope you understand when I say no. I can't afford to let my reputation slip. I have a good man, but he has his limits, you know."

Percival nodded, having already noticed the slight bruise on Rosalie's arm where her sleeve had ridden up. "Just answer me one thing, then, the boy in the market, is he Lancelot's?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "Yes, I think he is. He looks just like him, and he even has his temperament, even though they never met. I just never knew where Lance went to after he left here, you know?" She paused, "How is he? He was so nice to me that time. Did he ever find his girl?"

Percival's mouth tightened a bit, "He did, but she had fallen in love with someone else by the time he did. A good man, but still Lance never was able to be with her."

"I'm so sorry for him. But you talk as if he's gone."

"He died a few years ago, saved me and the whole kingdom of Camelot doing so." Percival still shuddered inside at the memory of the Dorocha.

Rosalie smiled sadly, "Well, he was a good man. I imagine he died knowing he was protecting the people he loved, including that girl of his."

"Yeah." Percival paused, "Why do you let his son suffer?"

"I try to do what I can. He sleeps in the shed out back, but my man won't let him in the house. He says Galahad is too much of a reminder of what I used to be." She shrugged, "Sometimes I'm not able to get him any food. That's why he's in the stocks right now. He had to leave before I was able to feed him today. I didn't realize- Well, I guess it doesn't make any difference, does it. He really is a good man, and he didn't have to marry me."

Percival just nodded, understanding that Rosalie had made a hard choice, one that had been bad for her son, but necessary for her own survival. In that moment, though, he made a choice, hoping Selene would forgive him for not consulting her. "I want to take him with me, then."

"What?" Rosalie's face betrayed her shock. "What do you mean?"

"You can't keep him. Eventually your man will get sick of him and either hurt him or run him off. I can take care of him. I have a wife who is about to have our first child. I'm a knight of Camelot. Galahad is the son of one of my best friends. He'd want Galahad to be raised to follow in his footsteps, I think."

Rosalie looked at Percival with both fear and a smidgen of hope in her eyes. "You would do that? You would take him away from here and raise him to be a knight? A knight? But he's the bastard son of a whore and a merchant's guard."

"No, Lancelot was knighted. Arthur would be happy to see his son."

"Arthur. King Arthur? Lance knew a king?" Rosalie was amazed. She hadn't realized her short lived romance was with a knight.

Percival nodded, "It was after we left here, but, yes."

Rosalie thought for a moment, and Percival let her. "Do you think he'd be able to come back here?"

"If he wants to visit you, yes, I'm sure it could happen, especially if he chooses to train for a knighthood and becomes a member of the court." Percival paused. "If the king sends me back here for more diplomatic visits, I could probably even bring him if the circumstances allowed."

Rosalie nodded and sighed, a tiny smile forming on her lips, "Sir Galahad. I like the sound of that, actually. He's a tough one, though. You'll have your hands full, Sir Percival. He was always the sweetest thing until I got married. But even before that, he would go after anyone bullying the younger children. Now, he's harder. He may not trust you, at first."

"I can deal with that. I like kids, and you should see my wife with all of the children my friends have been having. Besides, I knew his father. If he's anything like him, ridiculous chivalry and nobility run through his veins."

"Oh, he is. He is just like his father." Rosalie's face and voice went softer. "Sometimes I wished I was that girl he loved. He would have made a good husband."

Percival nodded at Rosalie. He had often wished Lancelot could have had more time to get over his love of Gwen. If he had lived just a bit longer, maybe he could have found another woman to fall for. "When is he due to get out of the stocks? Is there anything of his that he'll want to bring with him?"

"I'll pack a bag for him. There are a few things I think he'll want, and his clothing." She hefted the sleeping baby a little. They had been standing at the door for quite a while. "It'll be ready when you get back here with him, but I don't know how long he has to be in there. Better ask the bailiff."

Percival nodded and took his leave, letting her get back to what she had been doing before he arrived. He was going to become a father a few months earlier than he had expected, it seemed.

Percival found the bailiff faster than he thought he would. He still hadn't decided how he was going to explain the situation without it reflecting badly on both Rosalie and Lancelot. When he found the rather rotund man, he just decided to be frank and explain that he was going to be adopting Galahad.

"Why would you want to know about the boy? He's a troublemaker. Next year he'll be old enough for me to send to the mines instead of the stocks each time he steals."

"Or I could just take him off your hands now. I knew his father and have his mother's permission to adopt him." Percival reined in his temper. Bayard's bailiff was a callous man who seemed not to have any care for the less fortunate.

"Huh." He scratched his scraggly beard. "You sure he's actually your friend's get? Rosalie was freer with her favors than you might realize before she married Alfie."

"I'm quite aware of Rosalie's former occupation. The boy looks exactly like a younger version of my friend and, frankly, the timing is perfect." Percival drew himself to his full, imposing height. "I trust her word, especially since I went to her about it, not the other way around."

"Well, that's on you if you want to raise her bastard. Anyway, the boy has another half hour in there." He rubbed his palms together. "You can take him after that."

Percival crossed his arms, "And if I pay for the bread he stole, would that reduce his time?"

"Well, now, it would help, but the whelp's gotta learn his lesson, you see." The bailiff drummed his fingers in the palm of his open hand.

Percival pulled out his coin purse and held up a gold coin. "How about if I pay his fine?"

"Fine?" The bailiff caught himself before he told Percival there was no fine, the gold coin in front of him catching his greedy eyes. "I guess that would take care of it. Yes, I guess it would indeed." Percival silently handed the coin to the avaricious man and waited as he tucked it in his own coin purse. The bailiff rubbed his chin and led the way out the door. "You promise the brat won't be back, right?"

"Except to visit his mother on occasion, I see no reason for him to ever return here." Percival tried his best to hide the disgust in his voice. He realized he was being spoiled in Camelot. Yes, there was still crime, graft, and corruption, but the level was nowhere near this high or obvious. As they approached the stocks, Percival stopped the bailiff and quietly told him. "I want to be the one telling him what's happening. Just release him into my custody and his mother and I will explain it."

The bailiff shrugged, "Sure, whatever you want. But if he's still in my city tonight, I'll be upset. I may just put him back in the stocks overnight."

"Understood. We'll be leaving as soon as I collect his things from his mother and he knows what's going on." Percival wished he could move even faster, but it would have been unfair to deny the boy the chance to say goodbye to his mother.

Galahad obviously had a healthy fear of the bailiff. His eyes shadowed when he saw the man approaching with an unknown knight. He watched as the bailiff unlatched the bar that kept his legs straight and he rubbed feeling back into them as he watched the bailiff warily. "Well, boy, this knight has generously paid your fine. You're to go with him. I don't want to see you in here again."

"Yessir," Galahad mumbled as he stood carefully. He stumbled a little and flinched as Percival leaned over to steady him. Percival could almost read his mind. The boy's mother had been a prostitute. Surely the boy was no longer in the dark about sexual relations and was well aware that there were men who fancied boys. He was obviously afraid the bailiff had sold his favors.

The bailiff left them in the middle of the market square. Percival kept his hand on Galahad's shoulder, mostly to keep him from running off. He was positive the boy knew his way through the back alleys better than he would figure out and he'd lose him if the he ran. "Let's go, Galahad. We need to see your mother."

"Mother?" Surprise etched his young face, Lancelot's warm brown eyes shining from the olive-toned skin. "Is she alright?"

Percival nodded, smiling. "She's fine. I promise. We just need to talk to her." He took the chance that curiosity would be enough to counter distrust and removed his hand as he started walking toward Rosalie's home, not looking back as he heard the boy scampering behind him to try to keep up with his much longer strides.

It took a lot less time to reach her home than Percival expected. He was about to knock on the door when he heard some raised voices from inside. Galahad tugged at his cloak, "Maybe we should come back after lunch is over."

Percival looked down. "It won't make a difference. We need to see her now, so we can leave soon."

"Leave?"

Percival took a deep breath. "What did your mother ever tell you about your father?"

"He was a customer, but he was really nice. He left to guard some merchant and never came back." Galahad looked Percival up and down, "No offense, sir, but you don't look like you could be him."

Percival smiled. "No, I'm not him, but I knew him. He was a good friend." He put his hand back on Galahad's shoulder. "I wish I could tell you I'm bringing you to him, but I can't. He died a number of years back. He was a knight of Camelot, like me."

"My father was a knight? Mam never told me that."

Neither man had noticed the door opening until they heard Rosalie speak, "That's because he wasn't yet a knight when I met him. Lancelot left and was knighted after we parted." She smiled at her son, "I'm not at all surprised he was knighted, though. He was a good man. Kind-hearted and always wanting to help people." Rosalie stepped out of the house with the bag she'd packed for Galahad. She knelt on the ground in front of it, not caring about her dress so she could be at eye level with her son. "You're going to go with Sir Percival, darling. You can come visit me when you're older." She paused to look back over her shoulder at the looming presence of her husband at her back. "You be my good boy. Learn everything your father knew. Become a knight like him. I know you have it in you." She reached out and stroked the boy's cheek, wiping his tears away. "This will be best for you."

Galahad nodded jerkily. He knew she was right. He knew that his stepfather hated him. It was only a matter of time before the back of his hand became his stepfather's belt, or worse. If he even lasted here that long. The bailiff made no secret that he was just biding his time until he could send Galahad to the mines to work. He didn't want to leave his mother, though. She was the only family he had. His baby sister was the most adorable little thing he'd ever seen and he wanted to be there to protect her and his mother from Alfie. Galahad saw the little bruises his mother tried to hide from the neighbors. Not that the neighbors would do anything about it anyway. As far as they were concerned, Rosalie was still no better than she ought to be and was less than worthy of their respect or concern.

"I'll be back, mam. I promise. I'll come back when I have a shiny sword and armor and then you and Lyra can come live with me."

Rosalie smiled and kissed her son on the cheek. "I'll see you then, my precious Sir Galahad."

So, yeah, Lancelot wasn't perfect. I don't ascribe to courtly love, even though that's the tradition his character was borne from in Arthurian mythology. He had a rough time and spending that time with Rosalie helped him through it. He treated her with respect while they shared a bed, that much is in keeping with his character. Enough that she remembered him fondly. I like my characters to be somewhat realistic, so, yes, Lancelot patronized a prostitute.

I've never dealt with a fostering situation personally, but I've dealt with way too many curious nine year-olds (lots of nieces and nephews so I can hand them back when the little buggers annoy me - which tends not to actually happen since I adore them), so hopefully Galahad is portrayed well throughout. If not, please let me know.

This story only has four chapters. I'll try to put them up on Wednesdays.