A/N – Welcome to the second and final chapter of this silly tale. For you Percival fans, I hope you have enjoyed it.

Chapter 2 – One Angry King

Percival staggered forth, utterly pissed, and he felt burning acid rise into his throat while his gut churned with nausea. He couldn't recall the last time he'd been sick from too much drink, but it had been a long, long time. However, he realized his vomit-free streak was about to end forthwith. The man moved along faster, still gripping the wall, praying he could make it to the privy closet where he could heave up his guts in relative private. Unfortunately, at that moment, Queen Guinevere and King Arthur walked down the corridor, arm-in-arm. Percival knew he had to greet his leaders, and he executed an unsteady bow as they approached.

"Your High –" Percival started out, but he couldn't control the rush of vomit that escaped his mouth and splattered all over the front of Guinevere's fine red dress.

"Percival, what on earth is wrong with you!" shouted the king. "You smell like a damn winery!"

"It's all right, Arthur," said Guinevere. However, it appeared as if the sight and smell of the vomit had made her ill, and the queen leaned forward and was sick also.

Arthur, now a pale shade of green, turned away from the scene, yet unfortunately, he vomited, too.

There stood Percival, Queen Guinevere, and King Arthur, the floor and their persons covered with sick. No one knew what to do.

"Guards!" Arthur shouted, and two guards came upon the trio, promptly covering their mouths and noses.

"One of you, please escort my queen to our chambers so she can get changed," ordered the king. "And if the other one would please escort Sir Percival to the dungeons so he can sober up, I'd appreciate it."

"I'm so sorry, Your Highnesses," moaned Percival. "Please forgive me."

As the guard grasped Percival's thick arm, Gwaine stumbled upon the disorderly scene.

"The man can't hold his liquor!" a rowdy Gwaine announced to his king, laughing. "I told him my wine was strong."

King Arthur turned to the guard. "And please escort Sir Gwaine to the dungeons, too, for abetting this drunken disaster."

Gwaine's eyes widened. "What? Why me?"

But before the guard reached Gwaine's side, the knight spun on his heel and ran for the privy closet, but didn't make it. After he finished retching, the guard escorted Sir Percival and Sir Gwaine to the dungeons. The men were tossed into the dank cell and the iron bars locked behind them.

Percival, still feeling sick to his stomach, dropped right down onto the smelly hay-covered floor and closed his eyes.

"If I vomit again, Gwaine, it'll be on YOU. This is all your fault!"

"This is not exactly the evening I had planned, either," said Gwaine. "But don't worry; the night will go by fast."

Percival cracked one eye open and peered at Gwaine. "How do you know? How many times have you been in the dungeon overnight?"

"Ten? Twenty? It's a good place for a man to sober-up and consider his station in life," Gwaine offered with a shrug.

"Just stay away from me, Gwaine," said Percival with a sigh.

Gwaine lay down right next to his friend. "Come on, man, you still love me," he jested.

"Not at the moment."

Percival had never spent a night in the dungeons, and he'd never had the king angry with him before; he wondered if Arthur would remain furious for a long time. Then again, if Gwaine had really spent twenty nights in the dungeons for behaving like a drunken fool, perhaps Arthur would forgive Percival, too. King Arthur loved his knights and was probably willing to overlook such an act, especially since it was the first time Percival had done such a thing.

However, Percival had gotten sick all over the queen. Even if Arthur forgave him, he shuddered at the thought of facing Guinevere again. And there was still that matter of that sweet, alluring new barmaid.

I'll apologize to the queen, Percival thought. And I'll find a way to talk to the barmaid, sober, normal, and without Gwaine's help.

He was determined to set things right, and to overcome his crippling shyness around women. And for some odd reason, tonight, he felt as if he might be able to do it. At last.

The End