sirpercivalofcamelot:

iamthefirechild:

sirpercivalofcamelot:

Percival woke up to find an unknown presence in his his bed. “AAHHHH!” Percival scrambled and stumbled out of bed, doing his best to take the sheets with him for a covering and failing miserably. He saw who it was and relaxed slightly. “Oh. It’s you. Come to torment me some more.” Oh, lovely, I’m still naked. He wrestled a length of sheet from the woman. Oh no. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Oh, no. He quickly and rigidly sat back down on the bed, gathering more sheets into his lap, just in case.

Percival’s shriek — it was an awfully girly shriek for someone so big — startled Summer right out of a lovely sound sleep. She’d been warm, and safe, and happy; and now she was cold, and decidedly worried, and much more awake than she wanted to be. The knight scrambled away with all the covers, leaving her entirely uncovered, and she flailed around, trying without much success to hide the relevant bits of her anatomy behind her hair.

“What the hell is going on?!”

“I don’t know! You’re the one in my bed!” Oh, blast, now she was naked. He scrambled back off of the bed, shielding his eyes and still holding the sheets to his lap, to go to the linen cupboard. He tossed a blanket behind him, trying his best not to look back. Oh, great, now she’s seen my arse. Oh gods, and I’ve seen her… other parts of her anatomy. Dammit. Damn it all. “What are you even doing here?! And why couldn’t you just use a pillow?”

His /internal/ panic was giving her a headache, much less the external flailing. Snatching the blanket — well, the chivalry of the knights of Camelot was not exaggerated at least — Summer bundled herself up in it and scrambled out of the bed. “There. I’m not in your bed any more. Can you please stop shrieking?”

Then the funny side of the situation struck her — those words, their reactions, his sheer outraged innocence — and Summer leaned against the wall and laughed herself breathless.