A Week with a Prince

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖛𝖊

The first light of the new dawn streamed through the fabric of their tent when Garreth shook his cousin awake.

"You fell head over heels for him, Ginny. You said his name in your sleep more than once," he announced reproachfully.

"Whose name? That's not true..." she protested, blushing, remembering her previous night's encounter with Sir Lancelot.

Groaning, she buried her face in the palms of her hands, realising for the first time that he might have been there, hidden in the shadows of the trees, longer than she had thought... Right... It's not that a man of his age had never seen a girl before...

"Come on, get ready. Quick," Garreth insisted, scattering her thoughts. "They are already outside."

Of course they were-- the loud neighing accompanied by impatient stumping of the horses' hooves coming from somewhere nearby, beyond the thin walls of the tent, told her that the knight and the prince were ready to leave.

Garreth took his already packed saddle bag and left, leaving her alone to get dressed.

Deciding not to waste time with the awfully tight bodice, which made her feel too hot the day before, she pulled one item of clothing after another on top of her white shirt, finishing with the hat, and then the shoes. Looking around, Ginny collected her things and folded the quilts, leaving Lancelot's blanket as last. She rolled it up with care, revelling in its softness and the splendid colours which she could not see at night -- it was made of midnight blue velvet and embroidered with gold and white thread. The hues reminded her of the dream she had the night she first met Lancelot, they were the colours of the Pendragons and their men. The princess sighed, remembering again that soon she would be married to Arthur... She pushed the thought away quickly, refusing to have the next five days spoiled by anything.

She sneezed, shivering in the coldness of the morning. Maybe taking that bath at night hadn't been the best of her ideas...

On hearing her sneeze-- a soft, kitten-like sound no man could produce-- the men who were busy with their horses and saddle bags outside, exchanged glances. Garreth was the first one to look away; he was quite sure by now that both Arthur and Lancelot knew that their fourth companion was a girl, but as long as none of them chose to breach the subject, he decided not to talk about it.

Ginny exited the tent then, nearly invisible behind the pile of bags, quilts, and the blanket she carried in her arms.

Lancelot started to walk towards her to help, but Garreth beat him to it. As the knight turned back, he noticed his friend's wide grin.

"Don't say anything," he warned him in a whisper, making Arthur's grin widen.

"Good morning, Sir Geoffrey," the prince said, looking away from his knight, his eyes pausing ever so shortly on the blue blanket Ginny carried before they continued to her face. "Sir Garreth told us that we will arrive at the Druids Temple on the Salisbury Plain by sunset..."

Will they? To her knowledge, it was too long a distance to cover in one day. But if Garreth had told him so... She looked at her cousin quickly and when he nodded, she replied to the prince, remembering at the last moment to use her 'male voice',"Certainly, my lord."

Once even her horse was ready, Ginny decided that she really needed a moment alone, in that nearby copse, before mounting.

After Garreth folded up their tent, the three men shared some bread and wine for breakfast, which she refused. She stole off towards the trees instead, but didn't take more than a few steps before Lancelot caught up with her, his hand on her shoulder keeping her in place.

"Don't go far, Gwendolyn, or I'll have to come and bring you back again..." His eyes, intense and serious, bore into hers as he said that; and she, who had never obeyed anyone this easily before, found herself nodding.

"I just... just need to wash my face," she whispered, standing on her tiptoes to look at Garreth and the prince above the knight's shoulder, hoping that they would not notice them. But the two were laughing at something, too absorbed in a conversation of their own to see anything around them.

"Of course. Just... don't go far. Please," Lancelot insisted, letting go of her and striding back towards the horses.

Heart pounding, she ran towards the copse, realising that she was keeping close just as Lancelot had asked her. What kind of power did the man have over her?! Had it been Garreth or even her father to tell her something like this, to speak to her this way, she would have done the opposite on purpose.

But Sir Lancelot...

Shaking her head at her reflection in the water as she kneeled on the bank to wash her face, she smiled. Sir Lancelot... was a whole new experience and adventure for her.

Ginny realised that for the first time ever she cared how she looked, and felt self-conscious about all the new freckles she could imagine, rather than see, in the rippling, imperfect reflection, which must have sprouted on her nose and cheeks under the previous day's sunshine. She frowned and straightened her hat, doubting that someone like Lancelot would consider her pretty... Oh well, there was nothing much she could do about her looks right now, she couldn't even take the silly hat off and wear her hair loose...

But it's better this way; it is Arthur you should be thinking about, Ginny reminded herself, resigned to her fate, as she walked back towards the men swiftly; she didn't want to risk Lancelot fulfilling his promise and come looking for her.

As she approached the group, the princess saw Garreth absorbed in watching the peregrine falcon that was back again, perched on a nearby tree, while the knight and the prince were discussing something animatedly by the horses.

Lancelot seemed to be winning whatever argument they had; Ginny saw the prince shaking his head as he raised his hands in surrender, a small smile playing on his lips. At least it's nothing serious, she mused, avoiding them and making her way towards Garreth instead.

"That bird is strange," she said, stopping at her cousin's side.

He nodded. "Yes... I dreamed about it. And my mother and... Myrddin. But he didn't look like himself, he looked like me, just older. He told me to... trust him... and trust myself that I... will bring you as far as the Temple of the Sun before sunset..."

"All right," Ginny said carefully, seeing that he had decided to believe in his dream as he had already spoken to the prince about reaching the Druids standing stones in one day. "Lead the way through the mists then, oh venerable wizard..." she added, trying to cheer him up as she observed the fog drifting in from the river, surrounding them, thickening by the minute.

"Do you believe it? Do you trust me?" he asked, looking at her with wide, pleading eyes.

"Always, Garreth. I will always believe in you," she replied truthfully.

"Thank you, Ginny," he muttered, moved nearly to tears, pulling her into an embrace. And it took all her will to hold herself from weeping as she hugged him back.

They did not notice Sir Lancelot approaching, but suddenly, his hand was on Ginny's shoulder. "Are we ready? It's getting late."

Ginny looked up at him, nodding mutely before following him to the horses, noticing Garreth's all-knowing grin when she looked at him again. Rolling her eyes at her cousin, she mounted her horse barely suppressing a groan. This was the third day she would spend on horseback, and her body wasn't happy about it at all.

As if he could read her thoughts, Sir Lancelot caught her eye, looking at her with concern, but she smiled at him reassuringly. If the discomfort of the journey was the price for spending a week with him, she was more than happy to pay.