Storytelling for Week 11: when we've forever (we've too much seen)

Author's Note

This story is retelling of "The Adventure of Sir Percivale" - but I added a Black Sails and Merlin twist to it.  Basically, I used the Merlin version of Percival (without the "e" at the end) and crossed that over with Black Sails.

Why?

Because Tom Hopper, who played Percival in Merlin, plays Billy Bones in Black Sails.  So, for the purposes of this storytelling, he's an Immortal (this is explained at the end of my story) who has outlived Arthur and all the Knights of the Round Table, and he's just kinda drifting and then he becomes a pirate, because hey? Why not?  You'll also see in the story a mix of him calling himself Percival and Billy, this is intentional and is supposed to demonstrate the sort of identity crisis (which is probably too strong a word, more like minor turmoil) he's going through.

If you're not familiar with Black Sails, just imagine Sir Percival as a pirate and there you go.  Or, you could just look at the picture at the end of this note.

Billy's captain from Black Sails, Captain Flint, is featured, but you don't really need to know much beyond him using Billy to squash a mutiny (this is all in the very first episode).  The name of Flint's ship is The Walrus.

Sidebar: I recommend Black Sails if you like pirates and such, but trigger warning for sexual assault in the 2nd (maybe 3rd?) episode.

Anyway!  A summation of "The Adventure of Sir Percivale" is featured here if you want to know ahead of time.  I feature some of it in the story through flashbacks.

Percival (Tom Hopper) is now Billy Bones

-z-

Sometimes, Percival dreams of drowning and a lion’s roar in the distance.

-

“Oh, Sir Percival,” a woman's voice, soft and light as air, warm as the sun, whispers.

-x-

Billy wakes up in a cold sweat, heart thudding in his chest as he struggles to remember the year, which language he was supposed to be speaking, and which faces around him he was supposed to know.

“Nightmares?”

Billy looks up from where he’s been staring at the ocean sliding smooth around the bow of The Walrus and sees Flint.  Flint who is strong and steady in the secrets he keeps tucked in close.

“Yeah,” Billy answers.

Flint stares, as if he were waiting for Billy to continue.  (Maybe he was waiting for Billy to ask if Flint had had his own nightmares.)

But Billy turns away, looks back at the ocean.  It’s still dark – the full moon sitting low on the horizon, setting; they’re still a while from sunrise, but Billy knows he’ll get no more sleep tonight.

-x-

(Sometimes, Percival dreams of drowning and a lion’s roar in the distance.)

“What are you doing here?”

Percival can’t see her face, but her voice still wraps around him like a thick blanket – soothing.

“Nothing,” he answers.  He thinks he adds something else, but he’s can’t remember.

“If you promise me a favor,” the voice says, “I’ll lend you a horse from my own stable – and he’ll take you where you wish you to go.”

“Yes,” Percival says.

-x-

“We have no kings here,” Billy says, holding his knife to Flint’s neck.

“I am you king,” Flint snaps.

Billy wants to laugh in his face – wants to tell Flint that even if he had been of royal blood, that Billy’d never serve him.  He wants to tell him that he’s served a true king (once, a long, long time ago) and that he was something that Flint could never hope to achieve.  But there’s a whistle from The Walrus – calling them back in from the dingy, to see to the unrest aboard.

-

Flint’s covered in a dying man’s (traitor’s) blood and he’s holding his hand out to Billy, a slip of paper between his fingers.

Flint and Billy

For a sharp, split second – Billy remembers Arthur, now long dead and gone, bloody and wounded holding a hand out and Billy is suddenly Percival again and he sways forward, Latin words of allegiance and devotion on his lips – before he remembers himself.

Because Arthur never lied to him – never told him they were chasing after one thing, when they were actually after another.  Arthur, the greatest of Kings, who had wept when the Knights of the Round Table had planned to go after the Grail because he had known it would mean their deaths.

Billy feels his stomach turn as he unfolds the paper – sees that it’s blank but for blood.  Flint wasn’t Arthur.  Could never hope to be. 

Flint’s watching him, careful and assessing, and for one more second, Billy thinks about telling the truth.

“It’s the missing page,” he says instead.

Flint, still dripping in blood not his own, smirks.

And Billy thinks to himself, I’m getting too old for these games.

-x-

(Sometimes, Percival dreams of drowning and a lion’s roar in the distance.)

He dreams of a voice, warm and soft and gentle as a breeze, and a stallion, black and beautiful and fast as a gale.

Sometimes, when Percival isn’t Percival he thinks the dreams are memories – but, honestly, he’s been on this earth too long to tell the difference.  Just old dreams mixing with new nightmares.

When he dreams of that voice and that stallion – sometimes the stallion drowns him, sometimes he doesn’t.  But, every time, a lion – mane huge and frightful – comes to him.

The lion curls around Percival, growling deep in his throat.  And a warmth spreads through him – seeps from his skin down to his muscles and to his bones – filling him.

And, after that night, Percival does not die.

-x-

“I’m going to make you the princes of the new world!” Flint shouts.  Then he looks over at Billy and, for the first in a long, long time, Billy longs for his chainmail and helm – wanting to hide his regret and his shame behind something metal.

(But his armor has long since been hidden, sequestered away in a tomb half a world away.)

And not for the first time he wonders what Arthur and the others would think about the men he’s killed – of all the ships and all the gold he’s taken in the name of his captain and his shipmates.

Billy turns away from Flint and the roar of the crew, clutching the blank-but-for-the-blood scrap of paper.

That night, when Billy dreams of drowning and a lion’s roar in the distance, he knows that it’s time to move on, to leave Flint to his secrets and his plots.  And when that opportunity comes, he takes it – lets himself jump into the ocean and be swept away, chasing after that roar.

-

When Percival washes up on a beach, the roar in his head is quiet.

“Hello, old friend.”

Percival opens his eyes, blinking against the sun – and sees Merlin.

-z-

End.

-z-

Bibliography: King Arthur: Tales of the Round Table by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1902).