; fourteenth
Something sort of empty settled in Percival's chest as he pulled the church door open. Every time he stepped within a house of God, there was a sting of guilt, a hum in his mind that told him he had no right to be there. On the rare occasion, it could even be overwhelming, but he'd since swallowed the urge to turn away and carried out his decision to come in and pray.
That sort of determination would've never come to Wesley had he not figured himself out in the winter months. Having not grown up a devout anything, apart from a couple visits to mass, so many concepts were new to him as they flooded back into his memories.
But coming to this church in particular wasn't to find God. It was to find Galahad, and the mere thought of it had his heart aching. For the man himself, for his own weakness, for coming into a church with thoughts that weren't pure and went beyond friendship.
Soulmates was a word Percival wanted to use, but found it difficult to when thoughts of kissing Galahad came first.
So out of habit, he raked his gaze across the pews, looking for that familiar silhouette, the back of that dark head. The man wasn't always here, but even when he wasn't, some comfort was taken in knowing he probably had been or would be soon.
Stepping out of the confessional with her head bowed in silent contemplation like she was just an average penitent, Agrat Bat Mahlat was lost in thought. It had been far too long since she last made confession, and for reasons she wasn't exactly comfortable with the urge to do so had been overwhelming. She knew it was due to a combination of things, each one making less sense than the last.
Blaming it mainly on the conversation with Raphael about her family, since talking of them with anyone was such a rare occurrence that she'd forgotten the path her thoughts would take once the journey down that road began, she mentally vowed to make sure the topic never came up again.
It wasn't even that she disliked discussing her nephews, in fact that couldn't be farther from the truth. She took pride in her family, in the people who had been there back before Tessa had discovered the demon lurking within. It was more the lost opportunities that caused her to feel out of sorts.
What would her father say if he knew what she'd been up to? Even more important, what would He say if she opened her ears to truly listen?
Taking a seat in an empty pew, aware of someone else in the church although she was acting as if she hadn't seen him, Agrat began the prayers assigned to her to start the process of 'healing her soul' despite knowing that it would take far more than prayer to redeem her.
Percival, on the other hand, didn't know where to begin. As a knight in Camelot, it might've been a more clear choice. Then he'd been more devout, more pure -- never as pure as Galahad -- and dedicated to God. There had been missteps along the way, but it wouldn't change the fact that he'd been one of the few allowed near the Grail.
Deep down, he almost could guess which was Galahad would lean when it came down to him and God.
He took his seat on the bench behind Agrat, fingers splaying uselessly over his lap. What was the right step here? If only Gabriel was around to ask. Maybe then it would've made more sense.
Agrat couldn't concentrate on the all-too familiar words of prayers she'd mumbled countless times before, not when there was someone else sitting close enough to divert her attentions. She'd never been good at ignoring adorably forlorn looking men, especially not ones who seemed as lost as this one was.
Still, this was a house of God, and he was obviously here seeking some sort of epiphany or peace.
She shifted in her seat in front of Percival, mulling over her options. She could say something, or ignore him. Option A seemed better. "If you're waiting on confession the Father is still hearing sins for the next twenty minutes."
Her sudden words temporarily shook him free of his thoughts, forcing him to glance up. Being so caught up in them, Percival couldn't have imagined someone would try and speak to him, but somehow he was grateful someone did. His smile felt forced, merely an effort to be polite.
"Yeah, thanks. I'll probably sit here for a little while before that," he decided on
the spot, nearly surprising himself with how easy it sounded. Unfortunately, he already knew what a priest would say. Time and time again, the knight had come looking for redemption or peace of mind from someone who knew what they were talking about, but not once had he gone through with it.
Time and time again, Percival just didn't know how to word anything. It was why Elaine hadn't learned of him and Galahad like he'd expected that Thursday, why he'd changed the topic and once again kept her in the dark about their relationship.
Or whatever it was.
She offered him a soft, understanding smile when he looked up at her, aware that some people would never feel comfortable in a church regardless of how welcoming the clergy tried to make it. For all her years attending mass she had never felt comfortable knowing she was being judged, and finding out she was a fallen angel and queen of hell didn't help.
"You're welcome. That's probably for the best, you seem to have a lot on your mind," she murmured low enough for him to hear. It was clear from the way she was speaking that she didn't want their conversation overheard. "Not that I'm judging you, that would be silly of me to do when I'm sure we're both here for the same thing."
She wouldn't say what that thing was, but then again it wasn't as though people came to church when a mass wasn't in session to admire the architecture. They came looking for signs, for meaning, for anything that might put their sinful souls to rest. They came to repent.
Yes, even her.
The smile Percival mirrored back to her was a little more weak in comparison. "I've been told all my life that I'm an open book," he confessed to the girl, as if assuring her he didn't mind the comment. "And if we are, well... you seem to know how to do it better than I can."
How could he repent when he didn't know how to ask for forgiveness, how to confess to committing a sin he couldn't explain?
It wasn't that Agrat felt as though she knew how to do any of this better than the friendly man in the pew behind her, but the vague compliment still hit its' mark. "Being an open book isn't always a bad thing, I bet people find you easy to talk to," she pointed out, continuing softly. "And for all you know I could just fake it better."
She wouldn't, out of respect for God, but nobody needed to know that except her. "Sometimes, if you're not sure what you're praying for, general forgiveness seems to work."
Her words had something of a profound effect on Percival, who seemed almost startled by them. General forgiveness? He hadn't considered that option. Rather than praying for something specific, say inappropriate feelings for a friend, asking for forgiveness for all things he'd done would be far more efficient.
This time the knight laughed under his breath, his smile much more genuine now. "Thanks, I think I'll do that. My name's--" Percival -- "Wesley, by the way."
She knew her response wouldn't have been well-received by any clergy walking by, but Agrat could hardly care about such things. She was already cast out; what's the worst that could happen? Besides, it was still praying so it got the general point across.
His laughter, soft as it was, surprised her enough that it actually showed on her face. "It's nice to meet you, Wesley. I'm Tessa."
Finally feeling like he had an answer of some sort, some semblance of guidance to lead him toward the right path, Percy curled a hand around the back of the pew before him and stood in the small, confined space.
"I'm gonna try and catch the Father before he leaves, but.." Another smile was flashed at Agrat. "Thanks again. It was good meeting you, Tessa. Maybe we'll meet again someday," he suggested, only removing his eyes from hers so he wouldn't trip over himself on his way out of the row.
Vaguely amused that her words were able to help, but slightly perturbed that she had yet again done something that could only be considered nice, Agrat stood up as well and let a small smile grace her lips.
"You're welcome, Wesley. I'm hopeful that we'll see each other around somehow, and if not there's always the occasional meeting here." She knew it might sound like an odd thing to say, but if he came to the church again he'd probably run into her. "Good luck."
Percival started to pass her pew with a soft laugh, unconsciously brushing some of the hair out of his eyes. "I'll need it. See you around."
His walk up toward the confessional felt more confident this time around, so much different from his steps through the church doors. While there were still questions lingering in his mind, he now had a place to start, and that was better than waiting for something to dawn on him.
If he'd been looking for a sign, this might've just been it.