A Week with a Prince

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞-𝕿𝖜𝖔

Silhouetted against the first streaks of the sunrise brightening the night sky, an enormous cat, blacker than the predawn darkness surrounding it, separated itself from the shadows of the standing stones.

Arthur sat up slowly, careful not to attract the beast's attention, his hand on Ginny's crossbow.

Ginny startled awake the moment he moved away from her, feeling his absence even in her sleep. She sat up, staring at him, confused. He put a finger to his lips, bidding silence, and she followed his look towards the plain encompassing the ring of stones.

There, next to the stone closest to them, stood a cat as big as the largest wolf she had ever seen. Its lithe, black body was outlined by the first shy hues of the sunrise, its eyes glimmered like two pieces of jade as they reflected the light of their dying fire, one of its front paws hovered in the air as it noticed their presence mid-stride and paused, standing perfectly still apart from its long, twitching tail, watching them. It seemed peaceful, vaguely intrigued by them, without any mind to pounce, to attack them, not even now when their eyes met.

Ginny put her hand on the knights, which was closed around her crossbow, but he had no intention to shoot. He was as transfixed by the unusual animal's beauty as she was.

It only took a few moments before the beast continued on its journey, vanishing within the sea of grass without a trace; the frightened neighing of their horses who finally caught the predator's scent the only proof that it had really been there.

The princess let herself fall back on her blanket, and Arthur followed her example, leaning on his elbow and looking down at her, bemused, when she giggled, saying, "That... was wonderful."

"That could have been dangerous," he corrected her.

She rolled her eyes and smiled playfully at him, and he leaned closer, wishing to kiss her like never before... But the nervous horses had woken their companions; he heard both men stirring in their tents.

Taking a deep breath, he sat up again and asked, "What was it? I have never seen any of such cats in Caledonia."

She sat up too, looking disappointed. She had been sure he would kiss her... Trying to obliterate her wayward thoughts by words, she replied, "I'm not quite sure. It wasn't one of the cat-monsters from Myrddin's tales, those are supposed to be as big as horses and only live in King Gwynedd's realm. It must have been one of the beasts that live in Bodmin Moor. People talk about them often, but until now, I did not think those stories were true either..."

"Has anything happened? Garreth asked, as he and the other man got out of their tents, dressed and ready for the journey. "The horses..."

"Nothing," Ginny and Arthur said in unison, deciding to keep this magical encounter their secret to treasure.

Garreth looked at his prince questioningly, but when the ginger man only shrugged in reply, he turned to Ginny, who still sat unsuitably close to her knight. "Well, you should get changed before we pull the tents down, Gwendolyn, we must move on if we want to arrive to the shores of the Lake by sunset."

She nodded, letting Arthur pull her to her feet. She gathered the blue blanket he had given her, leaving him to collect the others and take care of the fire while she disappeared into the tent. The moment she was alone, she brought the soft blue fabric embroidered with gold to her face. It was redolent of him and made her feel as if she was wrapped in his arms again. Recalled to reality by the noise of the men loading the horses outside, she dressed quickly for another day of travel, then packed her things.

The first thing she noticed when she walked out of the tent was the peregrine falcon flying above their camp in wide circles. The colourful sunrise had morphed into a grey, hazy morning, the sky filling fast with heavy, waterlogged clouds. She smiled at Sir Lancelot when he took her bags from her, then lifted her into the saddle of her horse. Her breath caught when she realised how fast, and how much she got used to his manners, his closeness, him...

The first wisps of fog rose from the ring of stones as they followed the path leading them south-east, across the grassy plain, towards the lakes of the Summer Country. It was a hot and stifling day. The grassland along the path became interspersed with trees even as the soil grew more damp, the thin veil of fog hovering above it, unmoving. Ginny recalled Lord John's warning-- the farther south they went, the more treacherous the ground would become. It might be even worse tomorrow; there were many lakes between the one surrounding Glastonbury and Aquae Sulis, the small town built by the Romans around the hot springs. And from there to Tintagel, the old Roman road took up the only dry and entirely safe strip of ground in a boundless moorland.

Looking up when she felt a lone, huge raindrop land on her heated face, she noticed her knight's head droop from the heat and the sleepless night. Shaking him awake gently, she rode on to Garreth and forced the two men who were so lost in their conversation that they paid no attention to their companions to stop earlier for lunch. The first sheets of lightning filling the air with the scent of a distant storm appeared in the sky even as they sat down under a tree in a small apple orchard growing by the path.

The horses started to graze the moment Garreth tethered them to a branch of the closest tree, and Sir Lancelot's head was resting on Ginny's lap and the knight was asleep before Ginny realised what had happened. She knew how improper this looked to Garreth and the prince, but she stared back at both of them defiantly, blushing only a little, when they looked at her, shaking their heads.

She was falling asleep propped against a tree trunk after their simple meal, when she heard the prince propose to Garreth, "Shall we have a bath? I'm sure it's a river, or at least a stream I can hear. It's too hot to just sit here..."

He was right; now that he said it, Ginny could hear the water running through the mists somewhere nearby. The sound was tempting, it was really hot, perfect weather to bathe...

"Gwendolyn, will you come to the river with us?" Garreth asked softly, and she looked at him, shaking her head, unwilling to move lest she would wake up the sleeping man.

"Have fun," she whispered, smiling at them, and for the first time, seeing her so caring for his best friend, the prince smiled back at her.

The falcon they had forgotten about flew out from its hideout in one of the trees, followed the two men into the mists, then returned, as if it couldn't decide what to do when the four travellers separated.

Soon, it vanished somewhere again, and Ginny, unable to resist the temptation, buried her fingers in the knight's soft black waves as she observed his sleeping face. He looked so much younger, less... troubled and serious when he slept... She started when he opened his eyes suddenly, smiling at her, then took a deep, shaky breath and bit her lip when she realised just how much she wanted to kiss him. He brought his hand to her arm, pulling her down, closer... until, finally, their lips brushed softly...

"You have no idea what you missed," the prince's excited voice reached them from the mist, making them spring apart. "The water was perfect!"

He approached them, observing them curiously, the droplets of water falling from his hair landing on his friend's face. "Stop pretending that you are asleep, I know you too well."

The knight opened his eyes again and after an exasperated look at her he stood up, helped her to her feet, then assisted the prince in getting the horses ready, while Garreth accompanied Ginny to the river.

"Ginny, I'm not sure that... what we are doing... is right," he muttered while she washed her hands and face, then kicked her shoes off and dipped her feet into the cool stream, wishing she could take a bath too. But it was too late now, they had to move on. "I can see that you and Sir Lancelot..."

"Garreth, stop. Please. Tell me, are you happy? I'm not blind, I can see you and your prince too..."

He sighed, running his hand through his hair and pacing along the stream while she put her shoes back on and stood up. "I have never met anyone like him," he muttered, torn between his growing feelings for the man and his loyalty to his cousin. "Everything is wrong... and yet it feels so right..."

Ginny walked up to him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders, making him stop in his tracks. "I know what you mean, Garreth. If you love me, then... stop worrying. What if this is destiny? Just follow your heart; let's not spoil the few days we have left by overthinking the future. Let it be. Don't worry, please."

Sighing unhappily, he pulled her in an embrace, then, without another word, they joined the two men, who, ready to depart, were waiting for them under the apple trees.