[It had been a nightmare from the beginning, reflecting everything that Galahad had never wanted to face. Reflecting a yearning for things he shouldn't. Love, praise, family- it felt like an indulgence. A weakness. The perfect knight could only want one thing, the Grail.
Yet that was also there, resting on his mantlepiece as if it had never been anywhere else. His mother and his father loved him, praised him and knew him. Mordred was happy, contently reading on his couch.
And Percival...
Percival was affectionate and warm; he touched him. He could touch and touch back, until it stopped being Galahad and Percival but just them.]