A Week with a Prince

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖎𝖝𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓

It took the wizard hours to realise that his wards must have changed plans and stopped in the village for the night.

He should have used his Sight before, he thought, instead of flying all the way to the standing stones, frantic with worry that he had lost them, and afraid of what would the two kings tell him if they found out. But how did they expect him to look after their offspring while they kept calling him back and forth between them several times a day?! Myrddin could do magic like no other wizard, but he could not be in two or three places at once.

Sighing in a very unbirdlike fashion, the peregrine falcon sat on the ground outside the noisy, crowded inn, stretching his Sight through the walls of the cottage before he looked around carefully. Finding himself quite alone in the thickening darkness, he morphed, choosing the form his Ealasaid preferred. At the thought of her, the now blue-robed man sighed again, clutching his bard's harp under his arm.

Myrddin would much rather spend this evening with her... Surely, their son was old enough to look after himself for a week. The wizard was sure that the boy would hate to find out how closely he and his companions were watched. But there was no arguing with the kings. Uther and Leodegrance were waiting for the news about how their children were getting along, hoping that Arthur and Guinevere would feel less reluctant and unhappy about the wedding after this week. And there was young Lancelot of the Lake too, whose mother was Myrddin's old acquaintance. Arthur's first knight and best friend, he with his love of cards and wine, was the only one of the four who actually needed supervision. This was exactly the kind of place the youngster should avoid, he had gotten himself in enough trouble before...

Approaching the inn, resigned to his duty, the wizard looked through the small window and spotted the four immediately, looking happy and untroubled. Well, maybe they wouldn't notice his presence, and he could just watch them from afar without interfering. Pushing the door open, Myrddin walked inside and made his way to another bard whom he found sitting by the fire, plucking the strings of a small, pale harp similar to his.

"He looks like Myrddin, the way I saw him in my dream," Garreth said distractedly even as the wizard sat down, looking everywhere but at them, "what does it mean?"

"I don't know..." Ginny muttered. "He doesn't look like old Myrddin at all; most bards wear those blue robes. But, you know, he looks like you." She giggled.

"He definitely does," Prince Arthur said, his moustache twitching with laughter. "The man could be your father, Sir Garreth."

Garreth shook his head, looking confused, but Lancelot was already on his feet, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me invite him to join us. He might have some funny stories to tell."

With that, he was off and back again in a few moments, followed by the red-haired bard.

"I thank you for your invitation, young friends," he said, his brown eyes pausing shortly on each of them. "Brice is my name, and I'm a travelling bard..."

"We are travellers ourselves," Lancelot said as he sat back next to Ginny, filled another cup with ale, and pushed it in front of their guest, who sat down at Garreth's side.

Their resemblance was striking, Ginny thought, even as the prince spoke to the bard. His hand came to rest on Garreth's shoulder as he spoke, making Ginny stare at them when she noticed Garreth leaning into Arthur's touch ever so slightly. It really looked like... they were getting close, that she would not be the only one ending up with a broken heart at the end of this week...

"I'm Arthur, that's my friend Lancelot of the Lake, and our companions Lady Gwendolyn and Sir Garreth of Warwick."

Ginny thought that she saw the bard's gaze flicker between Arthur and Lancelot, his eyebrows drawing together in a momentary confusion, but he smiled as he said, "I came all the way from Caledonia..."