The late risers always had the last pick of food in the mornings, but that never made breakfast any less enjoyable. Smithy rubbed at his eyes as he made his way into the dining hall, momentarily distracted by the sight of Bors tossing a grape high up in the air. The fruit made a high arc in the air before descending fast, right into Gawain's awaiting mouth. The echidna chewed, a smile on his face as Bors hooted, pumping his fists into the air to celebrate his victory.

The fox gave a small chuckle at the display before going over to where the food awaited, immediately taking what meat options were available before someone else swooped in and took them first.

"None left for me, then?"

Smithy's ears perked up at the voice, the corner of his mouth lifting. He dropped a few pieces of bacon back onto the serving plate, shifting to the side to let Enid take what he wanted as well. Though Smithy would claim every last piece of meat if he could, Enid was a special exception to his 'no mercy' rule.

The smiths took their plates to a table, both too groggy to make conversation, and from across the way, Yseult and Merlina came to sit with them, murmuring quiet hellos. Ever since the two women had found that they shared the same unusual habit of sprinkling salt on their porridge, they tended to eat breakfast together. The group ate slowly, all blinking sleep from their eyes and watching the continued efforts of Bors and Gawain to turn breakfast into a sport.

"May I?" a soft voice asked. Smithy turned his head, rather surprised to see Gareth standing there, stifling a yawn, but he waved her forward, allowing her to pull up a chair among them.

"Night shift?" Enid asked sympathetically.

"Mmm," Gareth hummed in response, nodding her head. "Both Geraint and I answered an emergency at around midnight. Took a while to sort everything out." She paused, her fork suspended over her plate as she turned to look at the wolf. "Speaking of, where is Geraint? He's not still asleep, is he?"

"He was when I left him," Enid replied with a sigh. "It's a shame… I was going to show him the best ways to do maintenance on his sword this morning…"

Yseult tilted her head, one ear flicking in curiosity. "That's smart of you. The more knights that can look after their tools, the less labor you must go through."

Enid smirked, eyes glinting, and Smithy felt a sense of dread. "Yes, well, that's true. But in Geraint's case, it's also making sure he looks after his engagement present. However, I can't say I'm against him being… a jack-al of all trades?"

Smithy didn't bother to disguise his groan. Enid's love of wordplay 一 especially terrible wordplay 一 resulted in frequent jokes, and the wolf thrived on the fox's reactions. Yseult, meanwhile, appeared more confused than anything else for a moment before it clicked for her.

"Ah… That was a joke."

"It was," Merlina confirmed, and with that, Yseult started to eat again. "I must say, though, I'm a little surprised that he hasn't joined us… He seems the sort that would never sleep."

"Not at all," Enid proclaimed. "I've seen him take more naps than anyone else I have ever encountered."

"He had issues sleeping for years," Gareth remarked as she took a sip of water. "I've found that the smell of peppermint invigorates him, for whatever reason."

"I'll have to try that," Enid mused, swishing his tail back and forth.

"I have some extracts-" Merlina started to say, until a cry interrupted her.

"SHIT! I FORGOT TO FEED MY SON!"

Everyone at the table turned their heads to watch as Bors scrambled his way to the serving tables, hurriedly pouring some honey on a slice of toast, before barrelling out of the dining hall without a second glance. Gawain looked over their way, gave a one-shouldered shrug, and tossed a grape high into the air…

...and it landed with a barely-audible thunk on his forehead, to which Gareth shrieked with laughter, and despite the heaviness of sleep still having a hold on him, Smithy laughed as well.

Bedivere flexed his fingers as he walked down the halls to the library, first stretching all the joints on his left hand… and then nervously wiggling the appendages on his new right prosthetic. Smithy and Merlina were incredible at their crafts, and together they had produced him nothing short of a miracle. First, he tested the thumb. It moved just fine, though Bedivere couldn't quite control the speed at which he wiggled it. That seemed to be a problem across all the fingers, the movements being sudden and harsh, sometimes delayed, but the chameleon knew that with time, he would master their use.

He was so focused on controlling the movements that he almost missed the noises until he had nearly passed the door. He paused, looking into an open room to his left, and there was Galahad, standing with his back turned.

"Hello," the boy said, seemingly to no one. Then, at a lower pitch, he said it again. And then again, struggling to go even lower, but it sounded strained and, most likely, far from what he wanted to sound like.

Bedivere hesitated. He knew what Galahad was doing. He had done it himself, back in the day, though not a soul knew about that. Still, the boy was going to see few results going about it like that, and he could already see the teen's spines raise in frustration.

"Hel-lo." Galahad coughed, his voice having cracked and risen back to its usual pitch, and Bedivere decided that he could impart a bit of wisdom.

"Vocal training is a lengthy process," he said, and Galahad jumped, whirling around to face the Silent Knight. "You won't go to where you want in an instant."

"I…" Galahad blushed, looking down at his feet in embarrassment. "I know… I just… I simply want…"

"Here's a good place to start," Bedivere said, and Galahad looked up, eyes wide. "First, start humming at your normal pitch." At the young hedgehog's uncertain look, his own voice softened. "Trust me. I've read a few books on it."

Galahad swallowed, clenching his fists and nodding his head. He hummed out a flat note, waiting for his next instructions.

"Now bend your neck forward, to meet your chin with your chest."

The boy obeyed, and golden eyes widened in shock as they both heard his pitch drop a little lower.

"Now raise your head slowly and keep that new pitch. Then bend forward again."

Galahad did as he was told, only pausing in his humming for breath, following the instruction to repeat until his voice wouldn't go any lower.

"There you are," Bedivere said. "Practice speaking at that pitch for a while until it becomes easy for you to do. It may take a while, but eventually you'll find that you're able to go deeper with time. Ultimately, however, if you want to make more effective and permanent vocal changes, talk to your father about getting help from Merlina. I would suggest only doing so after you've finished most of your growing; to change something drastically while still growing into a new phase of life may prove to have unfortunate consequences."

"That's amazing!" Galahad exclaimed, before stopping and remembering to control his pitch. "You're so knowledgeable, Sir Bedivere! Thank you so much for assisting me!"

For a moment, Bedivere was tempted to let Galahad know exactly why he was so well-studied at voice techniques… but ultimately decided against it. That was something only he knew, and for now, he preferred to keep it that way.

"Of course, Sir Galahad. Remember, keep practicing in the meantime."

The teen gave him a small, joyful salute, going back to speaking aloud, now at a pitch that he could maintain, and as he walked away, Bedivere had a small smile on his face.

"There we go! You catch on so quickly!"

Lancelot let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding as Gareth spun away from, and then back to him. "You're an excellent teacher," he returned, but the echidna laughed, stepping away again as their dance continued.

"Don't be so quick to undermine yourself," she replied. "I've only just scarcely started teaching you Angel Village's dances, and I would say you're already an intermediate."

Lancelot wanted to reply that, once again, that was due to Gareth's incredible teaching, but he held his tongue, remembering what she just said to him. "Thank you very much," he said instead, and she beamed at him.

The dark knight's eyes lingered on the scar on the side of her head as she turned to the side, and he knew that, hidden under her spines, the tip of her ear was missing, and his gut clenched like a vice. He knew it was his fault. He knew that he had done that.

And yet Gareth still was happy to teach him her village's way of dancing, and even with his guilt, it was still an enjoyable experience.

"You're very steady on your feet," came a second voice, another one that slammed a feeling of remorse into his heart. Gaheris sat to the side, watching them both move and twist and come together and apart, tapping a rhythm for them to follow. "Not to mention, your lead is fantastic."

Lancelot didn't deserve such praise from two people he had hurt beyond compare, but to refuse it would be worse. "Thank you very much," he said again, trying his hardest not to think of the time he had watched Gaheris dance off with Gawain for so long at Arthur's wedding, and now…

Stop it, he told himself. Gaheris can still walk. He can run for short distances. He can still dance sometimes. You haven't taken that away from him, and don't you dare start making this about yourself. They've forgiven you… accept it and move on with them.

As he and Gareth weaved their legs through the complicated final steps, Gaheris started applauding. Gareth, in a show of good humor, spun to the side and lowered her head in a bow, and Lancelot, taking the cue, bowed in tandem. The armadillo rose to his feet, steadying himself against the wall.

"My turn."

Gareth's hand slid out of Lancelot's, and Gaheris' slid in its place. Lancelot readjusted their positions into one that he was more familiar with; in addition to him learning Angel Village's dances, he had offered to teach them more mainstream Avalonian social dances, to which Gaheris had expressed interest in learning. "Start with your left foot," Lancelot reminded him, and they set off into a standard turn, travelling across the room.

Some days, Gaheris' leg hurt too much for him to participate. Other days, it dragged across the floor, unable to move precisely as it should.

But today, neither possibility seemed to be ailing Gaheris, and the Peaceful Knight kept up with him, stumbling only through missteps, not pain. The armadillo laughed as they fumbled through a spin-turn, and Lancelot smiled softly.

Gaheris and Gareth were having fun with him, and he was eternally glad for it.

"Then I suppose… I should reclaim that bit of land…"

"Don't fall for it," Percival interrupted Galahad's musings, pointing at the map where all manner of colorful markers were scattered. "It's an ambush, see? The instant you move there, Lamorak or Kay could take out the troops you sent from the North and East." She pointed lower on the map. "If you move here, on the other hand, you've a much better chance of claiming the mountains."

"Traitor," Lamorak accused as Galahad pondered over her suggestions.

Percival smirked back at her brother. "You betrayed me first when you teamed up with Kay to chase me from the desert."

"Siding against me, your own flesh and blood!" Lamorak continued as though she hadn't spoken. "For shame, Perce! Let the kid decide on his own-"

"You're right!" Galahad said, moving one of his markers to where she suggested. "I'll do that instead. Thank you, Percival, you're truly brilliant at these games!"

"Unlike a certain someone I know," Arthur joined in, nudging Guinevere with his elbow as the bat huffed and crossed her arms. In front of her on the table was a pile of white game markers. "Aren't you supposed to be good at military strategy, being from G.U.N?"

"Only when the strategies make sense!" she retorted, prompting a laugh from her husband and Gaheris. "I swear, you all have the most nonsensical ideas when it comes to war strategies!"

"Guin, just admit that you're bad at it-"

"I am bad at nothing and you know it."

"You backed yourself into a corner when you put all your efforts into claiming the river," Gaheris pointed out. "Strategically, it's not particularly useful unless you have a large amount of troops, and when we're just beginning-"

"It doesn't matter. None of you could even begin to understand my plans."

"Is that why Tristan wiped you out in five turns?" Arthur asked, gesturing to the massive amounts of brown markers on the map, and Guinevere only pouted in response.

It had started several months ago: Gaheris, being a big fan of board games and pen and paper games, had started little gatherings for the knights and anyone else inclined to play along. Guinevere had dubbed these gatherings as 'Game Knights', and the name had stuck. Though the players differed every time, Percival and Galahad attended every last one, and more often than not, it ended up with one player dominating any strategy game that Gaheris had thought up.

It was a fun respite from everyday duties and monotonous routines, and on nights such as these, where there were more than six players, it made observing just as fun as playing.

Before long, despite Percival's assistance and her own cleverness, the teens were eliminated, as well as Arthur and Gaheris, and it was just Tristan facing off against the team of Kay and Lamorak.

"Give it up, Tris," Lamorak jeered. "Kay and I will obliterate you before you even get close to our territory!"

"More like you've doomed yourselves," came a new voice, and everyone turned to see Dindrane hovering, looking down at the board with calculating eyes. "You've spread yourself too thin. See?" She pointed down where the brown markers had a clear shot to a scant amount of yellow and green ones. "Once she gets through there, your territory is divided and you're a pair of sitting ducks."

Lamorak's eyes went wide as he scrambled to think of a plan, but Kay's eyes followed Dindrane's finger, seeming to figure out what she was getting at. He turned to the hawk and said, "I think we lost."

"We didn't lose!" Lamorak protested. "We won't lose until the game is over, so remember that!"

The albatross seemed to brighten up at that. "Right!"

To his credit, Kay was still in good spirits even as Tristan overpowered them three turns later and won.

"I'm glad you didn't show up any sooner," Tristan remarked to Dindrane as Gaheris cleared off the map and the markers. "With your help, those two might have had a chance."

"Hmm… Maybe," Dindrane remarked as she sat down at the table. Gaheris took out a deck of cards and started shuffling them. "Blackjack up next?"

"If you'd like," Gaheris replied, setting the deck down in front of him. "I doubt Lancelot would want me to teach the young ones how to play poker."

"It's been a while since I've played a good game of cards," Guinevere mused. "Gambling or otherwise."

"Then it's settled," Tristan decided, and nods and murmurs of assent went across the table as Gaheris started to deal the cards.

Arthur picked up his cards, glancing at them quickly before he heard footsteps coming from behind. "Excuse me one moment," he said, standing up and sliding his cards forward. "You can count this round as my loss." With that, he dashed from the table over to the hall in the blink of an eye, much to the surprise of the woman standing there.

"Hello there, Vivien," Arthur greeted, extending a hand. "Care to join us?"

Vivien seemed mildly stunned at his suggestion, mouth parting before closing again, and she brushed some hair out of her face. "I do not know… I doubt I would be very entertaining."

"That does not matter," Arthur insisted, keeping his hand outstretched. "The game is what is supposed to be fun. Being around others… that's what helps us form bonds, no matter who we are. I know you're still getting used to living here, and I'm sure sitting in will help. Won't you give it a try?"

The woman looked away, mulling it over, before looking back at the hand offered to her. She took it with a quiet "okay", and Arthur grinned, pulling her over to the table.

"Pull up a new chair," he ordered. "We've got our newest Game Knight right here!"

And as Vivien proved absurdly lucky, winning three rounds of Blackjack in a row, Arthur was sure that he could see her begin to relax and enjoy herself around them, all through that magical unifying quality that games had.

There was nothing better than a good night of fun with friends, after all.