“I found one. It’s perfect. Brookline. Center Hall. Two stories. I just figured, after everything that we’ve been through in the last couple of days… hell, the last couple of years… I thought we deserved a little bit of normal.”
By the 6th day he memorized each face, each agent wearing his own trademark expression. Sympathy, indifference, contempt. One of them, a tall lanky thing, almost Merlin’s height, once gave him what was probably intended as a smile, but looked more like a mocking smirk.
They were introduced later by Arthur, as the occasion presented itself. Lancelot with his sweet charm, silent intellectual Percival, vulpine Kay.
And Galahad, of course, the crown jewel, the smug shit. (x)