Percival

bystanders had been hurt during the melee, and the instigators had been taken into custody. They would languish in the dungeons for a good week. Percival, Gwaine, Leon, and King Arthur had remained behind to…

new man. It’s a miracle what sleep can do.” Percival rubbed his eyes and stood. “But is it midday? It seems late.” “No, it’s late morning, just very sunny, but cold. Rion’s at his lessons.” “How did he fare last night?” “Slept like a babe.” Percival chuckled and made his way behind…

Percival had been in such a rush he’d forgotten his sunglasses. The bright, late-morning sun blasted through his car’s windshield, but he hardly noticed. The ridiculous traffic jam on the highway was the only thing to which he paid attention. He banged his fists against the steering wheel. “Move, damn it, move, move!” Nope, nothing but red brake lights for as far as the eye could see. He wanted to hop out of his car and run down the road screaming that this was an emergency, and for people to…

Percival sat with his head between his knees, sobbing like a little girl. And why shouldn't he? He hated heights! Why had he allowed his new husband, Gwaine, to talk him into this horrible post-honeymoon hot-air balloon ride? With every sideways jolt of the basket, Percival wanted to puke, pass out, and die. Not necessarily in that order. “Hey, Perc, look at that beautiful blue horizon. That might help,” Gwaine said. Percival let out a long groan. “Shut UP. Please. Don't speak until we…

and no amount of fluid seemed to dampen her chapped lips. And these stupid treatments. Nothing worked! Her coughs rattled her frame. Percival spent the morning boiling water, washing linens, making new poultices, and wiping the sweat from Rion and Fleur’s body. Before midday, Rion’s fever broke, and he sat up, weak, but lucid. “Father… What happened?” Percival took a seat on the bed. “You and Fleur were very ill. The sweating sickness. But you’re getting better.” Rion glanced at Fleur. “Is…

The soft morning sun illuminated the forest, and the two men moved westward. As they walked at a brisk clip, Percival asked, "About those senses… do you get them often? Some say people who get senses have magic. I'm not scared if you do have magic, by the way. Just curious." "Now and again I get strong — I don't know how to explain them — feelings," said Lancelot, his tone measured and even. Lancelot most assuredly did not have any magical skills… he was nothing like Merlin, who possessed the…

Percival eyed the storefront dubiously. He and his husband, Gwaine, were about to enter The Ink Den, the most respected tattoo studio in the area. They were celebrating their twentieth wedding anniversary, and Gwaine wanted to do something “spectacularly memorable.” And that meant getting matching wedding band tattoos. “We don’t have to do this.” Gwaine draped his arm around Percival’s shoulder. “I feel like I pressured you into this. Come on, we’ll go out to dinner for our twentieth instead.…

leaving childhood behind, that challenging journey of moving from innocence to maturity. Soon enough, Rion would be a teenager, and then a man. It would all happen in the blink of an eye. Would Rion become a knight, as he often said he wanted? While Percival told Rion he could be anything he wanted, in Percival's dreams, he would be present at Rion's knighting…

could she possibly think that? “It is so much more with you. Everything is so much more with you.” “How many others were there?” she asked. Percival hated answering this question. He did not want to hurt her. “Besides Caron, there was one other woman, but we were very young and foolish. It was once.” “I see.” Fleur would not turn around to face him, so Percival grew concerned. Did this confession make her think less of him? He could not bear that. However, Fleur deserved to know the truth.…

of living. Both Lester R. Brown and Ray Percival represent these two differing…