Chapter 10 [Somewhere Else in the Mist and a Bit Earlier]

Percival squatted close to the grassy turf. His eyes struggled to pick out the lavender's distinct purple blossom not to mention the foxglove's white and magenta shadings. Irritation pushed his hand to bat at the cloying mist. Both Chill and Anxiety shook his giant frame. He paced off sections of the wood slowly in his quest.

Still the mind and heart remained troubled.

Morgana turns everything on its ear! He cut some of the desired flowers from the stems. He sniffed of them briefly. For a moment, the scents swept him back to Yesterday's fields. Briefly he felt the barley and wheat swaying in Summer's gentle breeze against his arms and side. As he did now, he harvested the crop for the Greater Good. Honest sweat beaded across his face. Pride and Accomplishment eased Toil's aches. Back and forth his arm swung to harvest the produce.

And then he saw her walking toward him . She bore their lunch for Morning's work.

Her…his Blancheflor….

He…her Percival…

Shall we never get another minute's rest? He frowned. Stop! She would tell you to do your duty. Arthur needs these to heal. We need to press on. Some day you can go back to Rivermore. When Arthur is secure, you can press your claim. You can….

The Cath Palgau's shriek cut through the mist. It jarred him back to his present. Instinct guided his hand to his sword's hilt. He yanked it from its scabbard. "Now what?" He turned in a complete circle. His eyes struggled to discern potential threats in the murky soup all around. He clearly heard someone stumbling through the brush toward himself. He brandished his sword.

Gawain rushed around the side of a rather large oak. Instinct coerced him toward his friends. Anxiety clenched his heart. Frustration clouded his mind. His hand still clanged against his sword's hilt. His back and face itched. For some reason, he didn't feel Chill's bite as much. Then again, he struggled to remain upright between the robes and his wobbly legs. He glared back into the fog and shook his head. Then he nearly ran into Percival. "Who the….? Percy!"

Percival stiffened at the other knight's appearance. Somehow he managed to stifle a laugh at Gawain's appearance. He clearly saw the grey ears poking through the headdress and gray hair sprouting on the knight's face. He noted the dark beard changing to the identical shading. "Gawain! What is this?"

"Just my bloody luck. Try getting His Princeness to have sense! Whatever! Then Morgana showed up. She cast a spell. I don't get it!" Gawain explained.

"You're turning into a donkey. Kind of suits you," Percival jabbed.

"Yes it does. Pity his mouth ran before his common sense!" Arthur complained. He stumbled into view. He leaned against a tree to rest for a few heartbeats. "You aren't the only one concerned with the situation, Gawain."

Gawain curled his lip. His eyes narrowed. Like a maddened cat, he turned on the King. "Then bloody well act like it!" He nearly tripped over an exposed root.

"We do need a plan. Whatever's out there, we have to deal with it. Like this, we can't hold our swords much less use them," Arthur pointed out. He held up the hoof-like hands for the others to view. "Bad enough Merlin has to deal with it."

"He'll be fine," Gawain disagreed. Despite the situation's seriousness, Arthur's attitude really chafed at him. "Maybe you might try healing or doing your own laundry?"

"Yes well…." Arthur started.

"We do have our threat to deal with. That noise didn't come from anything natural out there," Percival cut in. "Merlin and Gaius will need our help. We deal with this mess. Then you two can argue. Right?"

"Well put, Percival," Arthur concurred. Despite his bravado, he did care about Merlin. Still he did have to maintain appearances for Appearance's sake. "Gawain, come on!" With that he took a few more steps.

"Well put he says. Yak, yak, yak…." Gawain groused. He rolled his eyes. "Yeah we'll help Merlin and Gaius. Then we'll get this bloody manure out there." He batted the fog away from his face. Loyalty pulled him back toward the campsite. "This crap is so thick. I…."

Another roar stilled the debate.

"BLOODY HELL!" Gawain forgot the formerly pressing debate. He forgot about the clumsiness. He forgot about Vanity's previous hold over him. He only knew his friends needed him. His friends…his mates…. "There's a demon out there! MOVE IT!"

"Now he wants to move! Honestly!" Arthur spat. Still Concern pressed down on him as well. Duty urged him on in pursuit of Gawain. "Percival!"

The trio rushed through the fog and misty soup. Caution was thrown to the wind. They only knew their friends' need was dire. Anticipation and Experience reminded them of Morgana's capabilities as Malice's servant. They wound through the thickly laden trees. They splashed through marsh and stagnant soft mud. They would not be denied.

"Not much farther and….." Gawain stopped stock still. His eyes bulged for the second time. His jaw slacked. "WHAT THE BLIMEY HELL?"

"That thing now?" Arthur demanded. His jaw set. He remembered well….Memoria reminded him of a previous meeting and time before Camelot's walls. He recalled the bitter near-harvest of his father's hate and a prisoner's anger.

A prisoner on one side….

A monster on the other….

And them all in the middle…..

A true conundrum indeed…..