A Week with a Prince

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓

Following Prince Arthur and Garreth at a safe distance-- far enough not to be overheard but close enough not to get lost in the thick fog-- Ginny and Sir Lancelot rode side by side again.

The swirling, iridescent mist was mesmerizing, magical even, as it kept rolling towards and over them from the deep forest growing on both sides of the path, taking Ginny's mind back to Garreth. She always knew that there was something about him, in the way he saw, or could do things the others couldn't. And now, as he told her about his dream about Myrddin... Surely she had met the wizard in Warwick Castle often enough to suspect that maybe he and Aunt Ealasaid...

Ginny's breath caught, and a blush flooded her cheeks when she realised in which direction her thoughts were rushing. She looked at Lancelot when his leg brushed against hers, surprised how she had never thought of this before, how... meeting this man completely changed her way of... looking at her life and the people around her. It was nearly as if in the last two days she grew up a couple of years, her mind now proposing thoughts and her body struggling to understand sensations she had not known before... Temptations... Curiosity... Infatuation... She knew that should she decide to act on these feelings, she would have to pay dire consequences. The simplicity, ignorance, and irresponsibility of her childhood were suddenly gone, and however complex and overwhelming this new life, this new form of her existence seemed, she did not regret the change.

A white butterfly fluttered across their path, visible only for a few moments before it dissolved into the mist again, and the princess wondered if it also felt like this-- lost, confused, but stronger, brave, daring and elated after it left its childhood body on the ground and spread its wings for the first time...

"Did you sleep well?" Lancelot asked, a smile hinting at their night encounter playing on his lips.

That smile made Ginny's blush deepen, but she kept his gaze as she replied, "Very. Yourself?"

"Yes, after I recovered the towel you dropped on the bank," he said, touching the piece of white linen folded neatly and tied to his saddle bag, making her giggle shyly.

"I saw you arguing with the prince before," she said to change the subject. "He seems to listen to you, rather than..." she mused, the scene replaying in her mind.

Lancelot spoke before she could finish the sentence, "We are best friends, just like you and your cousin, Lady Gwendolyn, but we don't agree about everything."

Hearing the name which she wasn't used to surprised her, making her forget her previous thoughts. She needed to be careful, and maybe she should tell Garreth about what passed between her and the knight the previous night... No way, she decided quickly. She would keep everything happening between her and Lancelot a secret, to treasure forever, but she must tell Garreth the name she invented for herself.

They rode for hours in the fog, their words, laughs and giggles echoing strangely around them, their occasional touches rendered special, unforgettable, and more intimate within the silvery veil no one could see through, until it faded away gradually and bright sunlight shone directly from above them, drying up their damp clothes and hair.

Looking around, they noticed how the trees growing along the path had thinned, and the path had become much wider; they were close to the edge of the woods. Now, when the mist smothering the world finally evanesced, the voices and sounds of the inhabitants of the forest exploded around them-- birds chirped and fluttered in the sunkissed crowns of the trees, tiny, light paws pattered sofly up the tree trunks and branches, and hooves scurried through the carpet of fallen leaves.

"Shall we stop and have lunch?" Garreth proposed. He and the prince stopped a few paces ahead, waiting for Ginny and Lancelot to catch up. "We should wash and refill our flasks too; if I'm not wrong we will be leaving the forest and the river behind soon, and may not find a source of water until we reach the lakes tomorrow night."

"Unless we find a village or a town along the way," Prince Arthur said.

"Of course, my lord. However, I don't know this part of the country well enough to guarantee..."

"Fine. Let us eat, rest, and get some water then," the prince agreed, getting off his horse.

Lancelot offered Ginny a hand to help her dismount, and she accepted it, slipping into his arms and letting him hold her for a few seconds, both of them forgetting momentarily the part they were playing.

Why had he agreed with that marriage, the knight despaired as he held the girl close to him for a few precious moments, even as Ginny, feeling weak in the knees melted into his arms, thinking that maybe it wasn't too late yet, maybe she could talk to her father and make him change his mind when she arrived home. Maybe the prince would pull the Sword after all and unite all the kingdoms of Britain, not just Caledonia and Albion, by marrying her.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled away from Lancelot, frowning, when she noticed Arthur's disapproving look. The annoying man had no right to spoil this moment for them... But of course he did, she reminded herself; even more than he knew.

Before disappearing into the underbrush this time while the men tethered the horses and got some water from the river, Ginny remembered to tell her knight that she wouldn't go far, so he would not set off into the woods in search of her.

Seated on a blanket and nibbling on her piece of bread a while later, her shoes and the heavy gambeson finally off with the permission of Sir Lancelot, and another disapproving look from the prince, Ginny followed Garreth's look into the treetops but could not see the blue-gray falcon anywhere. Somehow, it only confirmed her suspicion about its identity-- she knew how busy the old wizard was with all the kings he served, there was no way he could follow them the entire week.

It is better this way, she thought, accepting Sir Lancelot's hands as she let him lift her to her feet after the meal; those large, strong but gentle hands that somehow found their way to her waist to steady her quite unnecessarily, making her heart stumble. The last thing the princess wanted was Myrddin telling her father about her improper behaviour before she arrived home.

They mounted their horses again, resolved not to stop before sunset, when they would set up camp, hopefully, by the Druids' temple. Following the path swerving away from the river and morphing gradually into a dusty road as it withdrew from under the last trees, they rode across a tree-less, undulating meadow. After the forest bursting with life, this place looked forlorn and abandoned. There were no sheep or cattle grazing on the long, lush grass swaying in the breeze, no human settlement lay as far as they could see, nothing but an ancient, half-crumbled stone tower standing close to the road in front of them.

As if acting on an impulse she and Garreth did not feel, Lancelot seized the reins from Ginny's hands and pulled her horse closer to his, while the prince muttered something to Garreth and both men lay their hands on the hilts of their swords even as they reached the tower.

As on cue, a dark-clad figure appeared suddenly in the middle of the road, blocking their way, frightening Garreth's horse who led their group. Even before the animal calmed down, other figures-- five men wearing dark, hooded cloaks-- joined the first.