A Week with a Prince

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞

They approached the great ring of stones, gilded by the warm rays of the setting sun, in a reverential silence only disturbed by the faint sound of their horses' hoofbeats muffled by the thick grass, and the shrill shriek of a lone peregrine falcon suddenly appearing above the Druids Temple. The four travellers raised their heads and watched the bird fly in a wide circle high above the stones, shrieking again as if it was reproaching them for being late, before it disappeared into a crevice in one of the rocks.

The riders dismounted a short distance from the temple and started unloading their horses, pitching tents, and laying fire while there was still some daylight left.

Ginny stood shivering in the falling twilight after she had carried her bags and spread the blankets in her and Garreth's tent, her eyes following the falcon again when it flew away across the endless plain, as if it was satisfied by having seen them reach their destination and settle for the night.

Her eyes then strayed back to the ancient temple and the surrounding landscape. The princess watched as the colours vanished from the world gradually, the falling night making the light of their fire look warmer and more brilliant. The stones that had looked golden in the sunset now grew pallid, then dark grey even as the darkness dropped, and she could see a couple of faint lights flicker among them, not as bright as their fire.

"Are you summoning your fairies, Lady Gwendolyn?" A deep, now familiar and welcome voice coming from the dark behind her made her heart stumble and lured a smile to lips.

She looked at her knight, who stood close by her, so close that the warmth emanating from his body made her shiver again. Ginny wished he would wrap his arms around her and pull her even closer... Shaking her head to empty it of such thoughts, she thanked the night for draining the blush from her cheeks, along with the rest of the colours of the day.

"No, we are still too far from the Lake for that," she muttered in reply finally, wrapping her own arms around her body for warmth.

The way the girl looked at him made Arthur wish to pull her close and never let go of her... If only he could... But the only thing he could do was to find his voice and ask, "What are those lights, then?"

"Only will-o'-the-wisps, nothing unusual," she said, smiling again as she remembered how many of such 'witch fires', as Aunt Ealasaid called them to scare her and Garreth off the woods surrounding Warwick castle, she had seen. The Countess' attempts to keep them within the safety of her castle's walls never worked.

It seemed to Ginny that the knight inched closer to her as they observed the wisps of light shine and tremble among the standing stones, while he spoke again, in a dreamy voice, "If it was me for whom the magical Excalibur came to earth, if I pulled it from that stone and became the High King..." he trailed off, feeling silly for what he was about to say. He had never shared his childhood fantasies with anyone. But she just stood there, patient, serious and attentive, waiting for him to finish. "I would have a table made for my Great Hall, as big and round as this temple."

She laughed softly then. "Quite as big? You would starve our entire isles to build a castle around a Great Hall big enough for such a table..."

He laughed, too. "A little smaller then. But made of stone so it could not be destroyed, and large enough for all the knights of my company."

"Why... round?" she asked again, her voice trembling slightly from the cold and his closeness.

"Because then they would be all equal. No one would feel more important than the others. There would be no jealousy among my friends and companions, just friendship."

His hand finally came to rest on her waist as he closed the remaining distance between them, and she put her own arms around him, looking up in his eyes. How would his lips feel on hers, she wondered, tilting her face up even as he leaned in...

"The dinner is ready!" Garreth called, bringing them back to reality. "Come and have something to eat. And then, Prince Arthur wants to talk to you."

Arthur's forehead came to rest against Ginny's for the briefest moment before he shot an angry look towards the fire where he saw the grinning 'Prince Arthur' raising a cup to them.

Ginny followed the knight's look, realising yet again how much she disliked the prince. The princess knew that she and Sir Lancelot were not meant to be, but that awful man did not know who she was. Why was he so intent on keeping them apart? Unless... she took a deep breath as she finally understood. Sir Lancelot was not free to do as he pleased either, just like her... His best friend would know, of course, exactly like Garreth knew everything about her.

She trailed behind Garreth and the knight silently towards the fire, then scurried into her tent for a moment. She had had no chance to get changed or washed after the journey yet. The only privacy in this open plain was within the tent or behind a nearby clump of bushes. There wasn't even a river or a well... Sighing, she shook her gambeson off-- even though warm, it was too heavy and uncomfortable. She washed as well as she could using a piece of linen cloth and some water from a flask, pulled on the warmest clothes she had brought, unbraided and brushed her hair, and finally exited the tent again to join the men by the fire.

Arthur smiled when he saw her dressed in clean clothes, her long hair brushed and left loose. He ran his hand through his own hair, trying to restore some order into his black waves. She noticed. Giggling, she pushed a stray strand away from his forehead as she sat at his side. The moment she realised what an inappropriate thing she had done, when her cousin cleared his throat to remind them of his and the other man's presence, her hand dropped to her lap, followed by her eyes.

She took a piece of bread from the food spread on a cloth in front of them, never looking at him again, not even when he passed her a cup filled with wine. Instead, she forced her eyes on his friend when he started to talk.

"So, Sir Garreth and I think that we should not sleep out here unprotected," the false prince declared majestically, making Arthur grin at hearing the very regal tone of his voice. Somehow, he had never noticed before how well Lancelot grew into his role in the years since they started with this charade. "We will take turns to keep watch; there must always be someone awake while the rest of us sleep. After meeting those brigands..."

"They were not brigands," Ginny said, frowning at him. "They were people reduced to poverty by the irresponsible behaviour of their landlord." How could this man, who lost so much money in cards on every occasion he got to play, not see it? He was hardly suitable to be a landlord, let alone a ruler, himself. She sighed, realising that it would be her most important task to try to change him, to teach him to understand his people once they were married.

"As you wish, Lady Gwendolyn. The point is that there might be other brigands... poor people," he corrected himself as he noticed her scowl, which she seemed to reserve only for him, "and we need to keep watch. We are three..."

"We are four. I'm as much your bodyguard as my cousin, Your Highness. I'm happy to take the first turn. And if the three of us," Ginny looked between Garreth and the knight at her side, "stay up a couple of hours each during the night, we won't need you to disturb your sleep."

His Highness, taken aback, smoothed his large ginger moustache as he considered her words, then raised his hands in mock surrender when his eyes strolled from Ginny's scowl to Arthur's bemused grin. "That's settled then, my lady," he agreed.

After they had finished eating and the three men-- as Ginny stubbornly refused to participate-- played a few games of cards, they all strolled towards their tents. Ginny was back by the fire in a heartbeat, alone, her crossbow within reach and the warm blanket her knight had given her wrapped over her shoulders.

The night beyond the flames of their fire was black and starless, bleak like the treeless plain surrounding the ring of stones. The world stood still, not even a breath of wind disturbed the long grass, nothing moved except the flames dancing in front of her eyes, bewitching her mind, taking her thoughts back to the few past days, to her growing feelings-- for she could not conceal them from herself any longer-- for Sir Lancelot.

She didn't know how long she sat there, lost in her reverie, when a sudden noise disturbed her. The princess grabbed her crossbow and turned it, ready to shoot, in the direction of the sound.