Title: A Knight in Scarlet Armor
Chapter 1
Author Notes: This is not actually based on the Sir Percival from the Arthurian stories, but more like Sir Percival has been replaced with our beloved Percy. This is probably going to be a series of Arthurian based stories involving Percy and Marguerite. I may even put them in an Arthur/Gwynevere/Lancelot situation (but of course it would end differently.) Pleeeeeeeeeeease review!
***
It was the age of chivalry, flashing armor, and adventurous knights. Sir Percival was of no exception to this. He was a dashing Knight of the Round Table, and handsome beyond belief. Had it not been for Lancelot, Percival would probably have been the most sought after bachelor in all of England! But as it came to be, Sir Percivals misadventures and adventures of the like have become over shadowed by the deeds of the Knights of the Round Table and of Arthurs famous legend itself. One of his greatest adventures began so simply, but ended much more different than it had began.
Like most Knights, Percival had a young squire by name of Armand St Just. His charming friend was the son of a deceased peasant mother and father. He had only one surviving member of his family, a beautiful younger sister by name of Marguerite. Percival had never met her, but he felt as if he had known her all her life the way Armand spoke of her. She was an actress in the traveling plays, and had even performed for many of the Lords of England. Every man that met Marguerite fell madly for her, and often Percival found himself wondering if she was that beautiful and enchanting. And soon enough, he would find out.
It had been a calm, sunny English spring day that found Sir Percival wandering the grounds of his castle. But all too soon, the sound of quick horse hoofs and Armand's distressed voice filled the morning air.
"Sir Percival! Sir Percival!" At Armand's horrified tone, Percival turned to spot Armand but a few meters from him.
"What is it, boy? What ever is the matter?" The horse came to a quick halt, and nearly threw Armand over its head. Striving to catch his breath, his words came out in gasps.
"Mar..Marguerite has… been captured by.. Sir.. Chauvelin!" He paused for a moment, hastily licking his dry lips to finish his broken words. "He's holding her captive at his castle! Can't we do something? Sir Chauvelin is a horrible and cruel man. He may have dishonorable intentions, and I fear for her. Please, Sir Percival, something has to be done!" And of course, the thought of adventure awoke all of Sir Percivals knightly instincts. Quickly he sprung into action, sending Armand off to prepare his horse and armor for the unavoidable battle that Percival would face.
'I hope it is worth it, I hope she is as beautiful as they say.'
****
It was not long before Knight and Squire were galloping through the untamed woods and fields. They were quite in luck since Sir Chauvelins castle was only but a few miles from the castle of Sir Percival, which would aid them considerably when it came to their strength. After a little time, the dreadful castle appeared on the horizon and it was then that they slowed their pace.
"Sir Percival, are you sure that you wish to fight this battle? I will do it myself, if it means freedom for my beloved sister. I cannot allow that knave to bring harm to her!" Percival could only smile at his hotheaded young friend a moment before he replied.
"Do not be silly, Armand, I am delighted to be able to assist you and your sister. I can only hope that the dear lady has not been injured by Sir Chauvelin thus far."
"I fear he wishes to make her his unwilling bride, Sir Percival, he has always been deeply in love with her but she has never returned such feelings for her." As they drew near to the castle, it could be seen to be surrounded by a wide mote. Tied to a tree hung a large horn, one that would signify the arrival of a guest or a challenge by a knight. Within a few seconds, the horns call could be heard as Sir Percival loudly blew into it. Immediately a young boy appeared at the top of the castle wall, curiously peering down at them.
"State your business and if thy art friend or foe!"
"I am Sir Percival of the Round Table, and I am a foe to your lord as I have come to rescue the fair maiden Marguerite from the clutches of such a beast!" The young boy disappeared, obviously set upon the task of telling the Lord of the Castle of this stranger who dared to challenge him. After a great length of time, the huge bridge was lowered and Chauvelin appeared upon his black stallion. His armor was of matching colour, while Percival's was a shimmering scarlet.
"You Sir, You dare to challenge me? And for the rescue of the Lady Marguerite? I fear you will fail in this quest of yours, for she is to be mine and for her I will slay thee!" Without a moment's hesitation, the mighty Sir Chauvelin charged on his horse towards Sir Percival with the spear outstretched. Sir Chauvelin had greatly underestimated his opponent's intelligence and strength. Sir Percival was known for using his brains in a match, not his brute strength. And so, with Chauvelin near him, he raised his sword at such an angle that the spear was deflected and at the same moment his horse sidestepped Chauvelins attack such that instead of impaling his opponent, he impaled a large tree. He gave a startled cry as he fell to the floor, stunned.
"Now, Sir Chauvelin, will you release the Lady Marguerite or shall we continue this fight?" Chauvelin turned, his sword pulled and drawn into a fighting stance. Immediately, Percivals sword was drawn as well and he released himself off the horse. The clanking of metal sounded throughout the grounds, drawing the attention of the fair maiden Marguerite from her tower prison. She drew back the large velvet drapes and took in the scene of the two fighters. Immediately she was taken by the fair-haired fighter, whose helmet had since fallen off. She had seen other knights come to save her and they had failed miserably, but none had caused such a stirring in her. At one moment in the fight, Chauvelin had been backed into a corner and Sir Percival found himself staring up at the opened window. At the site of the woman, his breath caught. The fiery red curls that spilled over petite shoulders, the blue eyes that seemed to drill into his soul, and the smile that she gave to him seemed to light a fire in him that caused him to further thrust forward with his sword. After another few moments of struggle and metal meeting metal, Chauvelin fell to the ground. Sir Percival unlaced the helmet of Sir Chauvelin and with that handsome smirk upon his face; he threateningly held his knifepoint at Chauvelins throat.
"Now, Sir Chauvelin, will you give me the fair Marguerite or shall I have to exert barbaric force upon you?" It took a moment, but finally Chauvelin yielded and announced that Marguerite was free to go. Chauvelin was let up off the ground and he then lead Sir Percival and Armand into the castle. Immediately Marguerite met them and Chauvelin gave her freedom. Before she could give a word of thanks to the brave knight who had saved her, Armands arms were around her and kissing each cheek affectingly.
"Oh dearest Margot! How I worried for you! Tell me that the knave did not hurt you?" Sir Percival could only stand back in amazement at her beauty and he seemed on pins and needles until her melodic voice was released.
"I am fine, darling, quite fine!" She couldn't seem to take her eyes off of the handsome stranger who had saved her life. She pulled gently away from Armand and crossed over to him, offering her small hand. "I believe I owe you my life, Sir." He took her hand in his and bestowed a hot kiss to the top of it. Oddly enough, his action surprised both her and him. A pale blush spread over her cheeks as she looked to him.
"Oh yes! Marguerite, dearest, this is the knight that I serve. Sir Percival, this is my famous sister Marguerite" Armand smiled to the two, Marguerites hand still in Percivals. He bowed to her, and finally released her hand. Immediately he missed the warmth that he felt when he was touching her.
'Now I understand why all those men fell in love with her. I have fallen for her myself..'
***
Percival sent Armand ahead of himself and Marguerite so that a proper room could be set up and prepared for her upon their return. The ride back itself was sheer bliss for Percival. He insisted that she sit in front of him, for her safety, but in reality he wanted the feel of her in his arms for hours on end. He had never longed for a woman as much as he longed for her, and often he found himself lost in a blissful daydream of this being his wedding day and that he was taking his beautiful bride back to his home— their home.
Soon enough, they came upon a small clearing around the time the sun was disappearing. It was a perfect setting, a small crystal pond and the dying rays of the sun gave it such a romantic feeling that Percival simply had to stop. Perhaps here he could confess his feelings. He slid off the horse and took Marguerites hands in his, carefully helping her down. The way she smiled at him set his heart into a series of flutters and he felt as if it would tear its self from his chest and lay itself at her feet.
"Milady, I do hope you came to no harm during your horrid captivity at Sir Chauvelins castle." He escorted the horse over to the pond to drink, his eyes never once leaving her figure.
"He did not harm me, Sir Percival. But I must confess that I feel very thankful for you. I owe you my life, Milord, and for that I am very in debt to you." She took a seat on the edge of the pond, her fingers dipping into the water to cause small ripples. The stars were just taking their places in the purplish sky, the moon making its appearance as well. The way the faint pinks, purples, and reds illuminated her face made him want to kiss her. And he almost acted upon it. He fell to his knees in front of her, his hands taking hers and pressing a passionate kiss to each palm and then to the very tips of her fingers.
"My Lady Marguerite, I did what any true Knight of the Round Table would have done. Your thanks is truly enough, for your life is so very valuable to me.." Immediately he blushed a scarlet color at his slip up. "Because your life means so much to my young squire, you see, and therefore it means the same to me." His words were stuttered and almost unsure of themselves. He imagined she would be disgusted at his sudden affections but instead the most delightful thing happened; she laughed.
"Sir Percival, I understand. You are the perfect gentleman!" Their hands remained in each others grasp and for a long while, neither spoke. They simply sat there and stared at the other one while night swept her dark cloak over the land.
To be continued…
Chapter 1
Author Notes: This is not actually based on the Sir Percival from the Arthurian stories, but more like Sir Percival has been replaced with our beloved Percy. This is probably going to be a series of Arthurian based stories involving Percy and Marguerite. I may even put them in an Arthur/Gwynevere/Lancelot situation (but of course it would end differently.) Pleeeeeeeeeeease review!
***
It was the age of chivalry, flashing armor, and adventurous knights. Sir Percival was of no exception to this. He was a dashing Knight of the Round Table, and handsome beyond belief. Had it not been for Lancelot, Percival would probably have been the most sought after bachelor in all of England! But as it came to be, Sir Percivals misadventures and adventures of the like have become over shadowed by the deeds of the Knights of the Round Table and of Arthurs famous legend itself. One of his greatest adventures began so simply, but ended much more different than it had began.
Like most Knights, Percival had a young squire by name of Armand St Just. His charming friend was the son of a deceased peasant mother and father. He had only one surviving member of his family, a beautiful younger sister by name of Marguerite. Percival had never met her, but he felt as if he had known her all her life the way Armand spoke of her. She was an actress in the traveling plays, and had even performed for many of the Lords of England. Every man that met Marguerite fell madly for her, and often Percival found himself wondering if she was that beautiful and enchanting. And soon enough, he would find out.
It had been a calm, sunny English spring day that found Sir Percival wandering the grounds of his castle. But all too soon, the sound of quick horse hoofs and Armand's distressed voice filled the morning air.
"Sir Percival! Sir Percival!" At Armand's horrified tone, Percival turned to spot Armand but a few meters from him.
"What is it, boy? What ever is the matter?" The horse came to a quick halt, and nearly threw Armand over its head. Striving to catch his breath, his words came out in gasps.
"Mar..Marguerite has… been captured by.. Sir.. Chauvelin!" He paused for a moment, hastily licking his dry lips to finish his broken words. "He's holding her captive at his castle! Can't we do something? Sir Chauvelin is a horrible and cruel man. He may have dishonorable intentions, and I fear for her. Please, Sir Percival, something has to be done!" And of course, the thought of adventure awoke all of Sir Percivals knightly instincts. Quickly he sprung into action, sending Armand off to prepare his horse and armor for the unavoidable battle that Percival would face.
'I hope it is worth it, I hope she is as beautiful as they say.'
****
It was not long before Knight and Squire were galloping through the untamed woods and fields. They were quite in luck since Sir Chauvelins castle was only but a few miles from the castle of Sir Percival, which would aid them considerably when it came to their strength. After a little time, the dreadful castle appeared on the horizon and it was then that they slowed their pace.
"Sir Percival, are you sure that you wish to fight this battle? I will do it myself, if it means freedom for my beloved sister. I cannot allow that knave to bring harm to her!" Percival could only smile at his hotheaded young friend a moment before he replied.
"Do not be silly, Armand, I am delighted to be able to assist you and your sister. I can only hope that the dear lady has not been injured by Sir Chauvelin thus far."
"I fear he wishes to make her his unwilling bride, Sir Percival, he has always been deeply in love with her but she has never returned such feelings for her." As they drew near to the castle, it could be seen to be surrounded by a wide mote. Tied to a tree hung a large horn, one that would signify the arrival of a guest or a challenge by a knight. Within a few seconds, the horns call could be heard as Sir Percival loudly blew into it. Immediately a young boy appeared at the top of the castle wall, curiously peering down at them.
"State your business and if thy art friend or foe!"
"I am Sir Percival of the Round Table, and I am a foe to your lord as I have come to rescue the fair maiden Marguerite from the clutches of such a beast!" The young boy disappeared, obviously set upon the task of telling the Lord of the Castle of this stranger who dared to challenge him. After a great length of time, the huge bridge was lowered and Chauvelin appeared upon his black stallion. His armor was of matching colour, while Percival's was a shimmering scarlet.
"You Sir, You dare to challenge me? And for the rescue of the Lady Marguerite? I fear you will fail in this quest of yours, for she is to be mine and for her I will slay thee!" Without a moment's hesitation, the mighty Sir Chauvelin charged on his horse towards Sir Percival with the spear outstretched. Sir Chauvelin had greatly underestimated his opponent's intelligence and strength. Sir Percival was known for using his brains in a match, not his brute strength. And so, with Chauvelin near him, he raised his sword at such an angle that the spear was deflected and at the same moment his horse sidestepped Chauvelins attack such that instead of impaling his opponent, he impaled a large tree. He gave a startled cry as he fell to the floor, stunned.
"Now, Sir Chauvelin, will you release the Lady Marguerite or shall we continue this fight?" Chauvelin turned, his sword pulled and drawn into a fighting stance. Immediately, Percivals sword was drawn as well and he released himself off the horse. The clanking of metal sounded throughout the grounds, drawing the attention of the fair maiden Marguerite from her tower prison. She drew back the large velvet drapes and took in the scene of the two fighters. Immediately she was taken by the fair-haired fighter, whose helmet had since fallen off. She had seen other knights come to save her and they had failed miserably, but none had caused such a stirring in her. At one moment in the fight, Chauvelin had been backed into a corner and Sir Percival found himself staring up at the opened window. At the site of the woman, his breath caught. The fiery red curls that spilled over petite shoulders, the blue eyes that seemed to drill into his soul, and the smile that she gave to him seemed to light a fire in him that caused him to further thrust forward with his sword. After another few moments of struggle and metal meeting metal, Chauvelin fell to the ground. Sir Percival unlaced the helmet of Sir Chauvelin and with that handsome smirk upon his face; he threateningly held his knifepoint at Chauvelins throat.
"Now, Sir Chauvelin, will you give me the fair Marguerite or shall I have to exert barbaric force upon you?" It took a moment, but finally Chauvelin yielded and announced that Marguerite was free to go. Chauvelin was let up off the ground and he then lead Sir Percival and Armand into the castle. Immediately Marguerite met them and Chauvelin gave her freedom. Before she could give a word of thanks to the brave knight who had saved her, Armands arms were around her and kissing each cheek affectingly.
"Oh dearest Margot! How I worried for you! Tell me that the knave did not hurt you?" Sir Percival could only stand back in amazement at her beauty and he seemed on pins and needles until her melodic voice was released.
"I am fine, darling, quite fine!" She couldn't seem to take her eyes off of the handsome stranger who had saved her life. She pulled gently away from Armand and crossed over to him, offering her small hand. "I believe I owe you my life, Sir." He took her hand in his and bestowed a hot kiss to the top of it. Oddly enough, his action surprised both her and him. A pale blush spread over her cheeks as she looked to him.
"Oh yes! Marguerite, dearest, this is the knight that I serve. Sir Percival, this is my famous sister Marguerite" Armand smiled to the two, Marguerites hand still in Percivals. He bowed to her, and finally released her hand. Immediately he missed the warmth that he felt when he was touching her.
'Now I understand why all those men fell in love with her. I have fallen for her myself..'
***
Percival sent Armand ahead of himself and Marguerite so that a proper room could be set up and prepared for her upon their return. The ride back itself was sheer bliss for Percival. He insisted that she sit in front of him, for her safety, but in reality he wanted the feel of her in his arms for hours on end. He had never longed for a woman as much as he longed for her, and often he found himself lost in a blissful daydream of this being his wedding day and that he was taking his beautiful bride back to his home— their home.
Soon enough, they came upon a small clearing around the time the sun was disappearing. It was a perfect setting, a small crystal pond and the dying rays of the sun gave it such a romantic feeling that Percival simply had to stop. Perhaps here he could confess his feelings. He slid off the horse and took Marguerites hands in his, carefully helping her down. The way she smiled at him set his heart into a series of flutters and he felt as if it would tear its self from his chest and lay itself at her feet.
"Milady, I do hope you came to no harm during your horrid captivity at Sir Chauvelins castle." He escorted the horse over to the pond to drink, his eyes never once leaving her figure.
"He did not harm me, Sir Percival. But I must confess that I feel very thankful for you. I owe you my life, Milord, and for that I am very in debt to you." She took a seat on the edge of the pond, her fingers dipping into the water to cause small ripples. The stars were just taking their places in the purplish sky, the moon making its appearance as well. The way the faint pinks, purples, and reds illuminated her face made him want to kiss her. And he almost acted upon it. He fell to his knees in front of her, his hands taking hers and pressing a passionate kiss to each palm and then to the very tips of her fingers.
"My Lady Marguerite, I did what any true Knight of the Round Table would have done. Your thanks is truly enough, for your life is so very valuable to me.." Immediately he blushed a scarlet color at his slip up. "Because your life means so much to my young squire, you see, and therefore it means the same to me." His words were stuttered and almost unsure of themselves. He imagined she would be disgusted at his sudden affections but instead the most delightful thing happened; she laughed.
"Sir Percival, I understand. You are the perfect gentleman!" Their hands remained in each others grasp and for a long while, neither spoke. They simply sat there and stared at the other one while night swept her dark cloak over the land.
To be continued…