DollopheadedMerlin One-Shot Contest

Flashback ~ The Need of Revenge

"Would you like to join me? I can't promise that you would live, but at least you would die for a reason if things came to that,"

"Lancelot... I must have time to make such a decision..."

"We don't have any more time, Camelot's need will not wait for us. You must make your choice now, if ever. I feel so sorry to push you like this, but I'm leaving in a hour. I'd love for you to join me, Percival. But.. You must take the best decision for yourself," Lancelot stood from his friend's dining table, courteously pushed in his wooden chair, and walked from the room. 

Well this was... new. Percival had not been forced into such a decision since he was only a small boy. That dilemma had been thrust upon him by the exact same brunet boy. 

"At least you would die for a reason" Leave it to Lancelot to remember Percival's only fear. 

With a sigh, the blond stood and gathered the dirty dishes, left over from a breakfast only moments before. He walked out of his home to clean them in the pond behind his house.

As he lowered the dishes into the water, Percival examined his own reflection. The man peering back at him was empty and hollowed eyed.

Percival was not surprised by his vacant expression, although less experienced men would have been. So many years had passed, and still Percival had not allowed himself to move on from that one evening. Lancelot used to look the same, both little more than shells that were once boys. Lancelot, however, had somehow found his way back to rebellion and hope. Only a year after the incident, he was swearing revenge on those responsible.

Percival, with little else to do in their new, secluded, overgrown home, had gotten himself into shape. Maybe if they came again, he could do away with at least one or two. The only thing Percival worried about was dying without his life having had a purpose. Ever since that day, Percival had only felt the one fear.

The day had started rather well, by all means. To celebrate the town's successful harvest year, there was to be a giant feast in the evening. The musicians were still only arriving, and each family was cooking some dish or other. 

Percival's mother was making a meat pie. 

It was halfway through cooking when the chimney clotted and smoke drowned the small room. Coughing and holding about twenty pies in her hands, the mother led her children outside. The youngest of these children remained optimistic and creative. 

"Mom! Lancelot's family has an oven and they're only preparing fruit! We should go over there to cook the pies!" 

"Darling, it's impolite for us to just invite ourselves to their home. Lancelot's mother would not be pleased with unexpected visitors, particularly on feast day. She's probably working herself to death, poor dear," Percival's mother patter his back, a small frown on her young face. 

"Nah! Lance's mom is nice! Come on, she won't mind!" Grinning, the small boy lunged forward and snatched five meat pies from the top of his mother's stack. Pies securely under his arm, Percival bounded towards his next door neighbor's home. The house was over five minutes away for adults, but Percival could run it with no problem. Especially when his two siblings joined to help out. 

"Perce! Give one here!" Henry, the oldest child in the family, reached out for one of the pies. Precariously balancing four under only one arm, Percival passed a pie to his brother, who then ran large circles around their frantic mother, only far enough that she would not catch him. Then the older boy ran straight ahead, his long legs carrying him far more quickly than Percival's small ones.