5th Century Britain
-Camelot-
"My lady."
Words break through her peaceful slumber. Guinevere ignores them and tries to go back to sleep.
A cough. "My lady. Please wake up, Your Majesty."
"Goway, Arthur. Lemme sleep." She mumbles and waves an arm drowsily at the air.
Silence. Blessed silence as her husband stops pestering her.
"I am not the King, my lady."
Not the-? Her eyes fly open. A very uncomfortable Lancelot stands a few feet away from the bed. She feels her face flush as she stares at the knight. "What—What on earth are you doing in here?!" She frantically huddles more under the bedsheets.
Lancelot refuses to look at her. By St. George! How long has he been in her bedchambers? "I was ordered to get you, Your Majesty."
"You could have told my handmaiden! Or my ladies-in-waiting!"
"They weren't around." He fidgets and coughs. "I apologize, my lady. I looked around for them but was unable to find them. I would have looked more but…"
"But?" What on earth could have justified his creeping into her room? While she was sleeping no less! If he wasn't her knight, she would have ordered him to the dungeons.
"The King was…" He falters, making her narrow her eyes. He probably did not want to blame Arthur, but she didn't really care.
"He, what?"
"He… seemed rather insistent on your presence. I- I'm sorry, my lady. I did not want to tarry and…" He coughs. "I should have looked for your handmaiden."
Guinevere scowls. "Tell the King that I will be down shortly."
"At once, Your Majesty." Lancelot bows and hastily leaves the room.
Whatever Arthur wants has to be worth it, she sullenly muses.
"I was naked! He was inside my room!" Guinevere hisses at the King once the meeting he needed her for had finished.
His arms are crossed and he frowns. "I didn't know he was going to go inside your room." He looks sideways at her. "Weren't you covered by a bedsheet?"
"That is not the point!"
Arthur sighs. "Want to do you want me to do, Gwen? I told him to come and get you. I can't punish him for following my orders, you know."
"Talk to him at least! You can't just do nothing!"
"Of course, I'm going to do something! I'll… I'll talk to him." Then he gives her a slow grin. "Next time, I am going to wake you when I leave. I didn't know you were so exhausted."
Guinevere scowls at him. "Wipe that self-satisfied smile off your face, you arse." She huffs. "This is all your fault."
"I suppose it is." He purses his lips in an odd expression, smug at the knowledge that she had slept in and apologetic at what happened because of his orders. Arthur rubs the base of his neck. "You would have been safe from Lancelot, you know. He isn't that sort of person."
"I know." But Arthur had not seen the way Lancelot's eyes light up when he looks at her. Or how he seeks her eyes from time to time.
"Besides, he has a son and a lady love back home from what I understand."
Her breath catches. "What?" This is the first she has heard of it.
Arthur looks at her in confusion. "Do you not remember Lancelot leaving two years ago? He stayed in France for a year and a half."
Lancelot did. But he had told her… he had told her that he left because Arthur had given him a quest. And he did not tell her that he was going to France.
Arthur does not see her grit her teeth as someone knocks in his study. He walks over to the door, leaving Guinevere frowning at their dirty plates.
"The Duke of Cambenet has arrived, Gwen." He leans in and kisses her forehead. "I need to go."
"I'll wait for you later." She smiles slightly.
Arthur smirks. "Of course, you will. Just don't stay up too late." His fingers brush her cheek.
He draws himself to his full height as he walks back to the door. Straight shoulders, confident stride, a golden circlet on his head. Her husband opens the door and the King steps through it.
Percival mumbles under his breath as he evades a courtier carrying books. He doesn't know nor remember how he ended up in the Library in his search for that miserable fop. Percival has been to the stables, to the kitchens, even to the servant's quarters and he wasn't there!
"Sir Percival, a rare sight in this bastion of learning."
Percival rolls his eyes. "I always feel so welcome, Grand Scholar."
"Hm. You do not seem properly attired to begin your journey towards enlightenment." The Grand Scholar drawls as he looks at Percival warily. His eyes linger on the sword sheathed by the knight's side.
"Says the man dressed a flowing bridal gown and sporting Camelot's trendiest hairstyle," Percival smirks, referring to the Grand Scholar's white robes and close-cropped hair.
The scholar's nostrils flare. "Cute. Your barbs might actually hurt more if you would care to expand your vocabulary." He looks around the library. "I tire quickly of this conversation, Sir Percival. What are you here for?"
"You talked to me , remember?"
The other man turns unamused eyes back to him.
"Have you seen Sir Lancelot? The King wants to talk to him."
The Grand Scholar brightens. But he doesn't actually smile. Percival wonders if smiling is too much for the man's face to handle. "Sir Lancelot, now there's a proper knight. He actually-"
"Yes, yes. Lancelot is perfect." Percival waves him off. "Have you seen him?"
The glorified librarian frowns. "I wonder why the King still keeps you around when he has knights like Sir Lancelot." He huffs and Percival stiffens, which the scholar either ignores or does not notice. "He took a book from the library a while ago but he did not stay here. I know not where else would someone find a proper place to read."
"How useful you are."
"You insufferable-"
"Thank you, Grand Scholar." Percival bows slightly. A knight must have some manners after all.
However, unlike the scholar, he knows a few places Lancelot likes to hide in.
Percival finds said fop accompanied by Sir Gareth, one of the Orkney brothers. The three of them greet each other.
"Good day, Sir Percival."
"Greetings, Percival."
"Sir Gareth, Sir Lancelot."
"What brings you here?" Lancelot asks him.
"You, actually."
"I beg your pardon?"
Percival chuckles. "Now before you think that I am going to compose ballads about you, 'tis an official mission I am here for."
Gareth sighs. "You're really going to make us ask aren't you? Just spit it out, Percival."
"The King wants to talk to you."
Lancelot's eyes widen slightly and Gareth blinks at Percival.
"Oh, and since I've been walking all over the castle, you better hurry to King Arthur's study. He did not seem pleased."
Lancelot winces and he and Gareth exchange glances.
Percival crosses his arms. "What is it? Unless you think the King is going to compose ballads about you-?" He waves a hand in Lancelot's direction.
"Don't be ridiculous," Lancelot rolls his eyes.
"Well, it seems that our brother-in-arms is in trouble." Gareth claps his hands once. "Queen Guinevere sent me to find Sir Lancelot, as the King did you, Percival. She wants to talk to him and… like the King, she was also not pleased."
Percival whistles a low note and looks at Lancelot with pity. For once, Percival did not want to be him. "What on earth did you do to anger the monarchs? And at the same time?"
Lancelot fidgets and looks very conflicted. The three of them have stopped walking and are conversing in an intersection of hallways. Poetic, Percival muses.
"How… displeased was King Arthur?" Lancelot asks, pushing his fingertips of his left and right hands together.
"…Like he was going to behead you if you did not answer his summons."
Lancelot gulps.
"In fact, he may have already given the order. As I said, I walked all over the castle trying to find you."
"You should have ran!" Lancelot scowls at him.
"It's a big castle!"
"You may not want to hear this, Lancelot." Gareth looks at the other knight with a mixture of pity and amusement. "But the Queen sounded like she was going to castrate you if you did not answer her summons."
Lancelot groans.
Percival and Gareth exchange glances. "So perhaps it is simply a choice of which head you'd prefer to keep?" One says.
"They are both very valuable parts," The other chips in.
"You louts aren't helping!"
Lancelot knows they both want to talk to him for the same reason. He's seen firsthand what King Arthur can do when he's incensed, eyes turning a blazing gold and the sword on his hip humming in the promise of victory.
The Queen is *notorious* in some circles for breaking uppity nobles and ambitious women attempting to catch the King's eye.
And while the just-following-orders excuse might offer him some protection…
In hindsight, he didn't know what possessed him to enter the royal bedchambers alone.
He really should have just looked for a handmaiden.
"Clock's ticking, Lancelot." Gareth offers a sympathetic smile.
Percival sighs and claps an arm around Lancelot's shoulder. "Look, if I were you, just choose one. If it all goes well, you can just ask one monarch to calm the other down."
Then the red-headed knight smirks. "With a few 'nightly activities', I guarantee they'll have forgotten the whole thing in the morning."
A frown creeps on Lancelot's face. The idea disturbs him for some reason.
He shrugs the other knight's arm off and tells Gareth to take him to his Queen.
Percival watches the two men walk away.
"I bet the Grand Scholar won't believe this." He smirks, taking a stolen apple from his pocket and tossing it over his head as he turns to give his report to King Arthur.
Notes: And Percival enters the scene, announcing my sporadic return! So yeah, a new chapter for the fic that I keep coming back to. I've been playing Fate Grand Order again and I'm still in the Okeanos chapter. Septem was horribly boring but Orleans reminded me of just what I love about the Fate series. No, not Saberface Jeanne (although one day I will get a Saberface for my Chaldea. One day!). But the interactions of servants and how their ideals clash with each other. This specific chapter was written several years ago after an idea I had while washing the dishes and when I re-read it, I enjoyed the character I made up for Percival and poor Lance so much, I wrote an ending for it.