Percival knew he wasn't the brightest star in the sky- but he had loyalty, strength and courage and knew that was enough for him. His parents had died when he was fifteen, leaving him to travel and work here and there, sometimes accompanied and sometimes alone.
When someone helped him, he felt loyal to them for life. Through their ups and downs, he'd help them in any way he could. He looked up to Arthur, Lancelot, Merlin and Gwen. They were top in his list of people he admired. He was a follower, not a leader- and he liked it that way.
He was a like valley- if he wasn't there, everything would be level. He was the gap that let the river flow. He was lower than the mountains, though was important none-the-less. And he liked it that way.
And, he discovered, that was the meaning of his own name. Percival- the valley. It had a ring to it, as Gwaine put it.
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