Perceval's Room: A Fictional Narrative

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Perceval moved to chase after her, but suddenly realized he wore next to nothing, and unless he wanted to be tackled by the castle guard and tossed into the dungeons for indecency, he needed to dress. He raced around the room frantically, collecting his things all while shouting at Elora. The woman sat in bed, pouting, her arms crossed over her naked bosom.
“Get the fuck out of my bed, will you?” bellowed Perceval, nearly apoplectic with rage, as he yanked up his trousers and slipped his feet into his boots.
Right then, Gawain stepped into the room, his eyes skimming the scene.
“Could someone clarify what’s going on in here?” asked Gawain. “You’re making quite the racket.”
Perceval laced his boots. “This fucking bitch” – he jammed his thumb
…show more content…
Perceval didn’t understand what Will was talking about
“In bed, Perceval!” explained an embarrassed Will. Sex? Oh, gods, how was Perceval to discuss this with Will?
“There’s no other way to say this other than to just say it,” said Perceval with care, “but there’s plenty of bedchamber activity going on I am extremely satisfied with your daughter in that… regard.” Perceval wasn’t about to explain himself further, because if he did, he really might end up losing his bollocks.
Will looked up and scratched his beard. “I believe you. And that Elora’s a little tart anyway, always flirting and pitting the men against one another. Never liked her. I wouldn’t put it past her to do such a thing.” He stood up. “Let’s go to Carina’s and see if we can sort this out.”
Will led a still-shirtless Perceval across the road to Carina’s and knocked on the front door. Without waiting for an answer, Will announced he was there with Perceval.
“Master Will, you can come inside,” said Carina from behind the bolted door. “I’ll come out and talk to
…show more content…
It was well after the middle of the night, and everyone present looked fatigued. Yet Gawain sat upright immediately.
“The Lady Elora has something she’d like to say,” barked the knight, glaring at the young woman in anger.
Eyes cast downward, the courtier explained what she’d done.
“I was jealous of Joan,” she confessed. “I’ve admired Perceval for a long time, though he’s made it clear he’s not interested in me, over and over again.” She flicked away a tear. “I thought if I sneaked in and you found me in bed with your husband, Joan, it would cause trouble and I might have a chance with him. You have a good knight for a husband and the truth is I really have no one. I… I’m sorry.”
Perceval didn’t care about Elora’s apology and still seethed. He wanted to tell the woman off, but before he had the chance to open his mouth and register his displeasure, Joan crossed to the table and laid a gentle hand on Elora’s shoulder.
“I forgive you,” said Joan. “It must be awful to feel so alone.”
Elora turned around in her seat and leaned into Joan’s arms, weeping. “I am so sorry. I will never do such a thing again… I don’t like being like

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