A Week with a Prince

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝕾𝖎𝖝

It was Garreth who came back with Arthur's bag-- Ginny recognised it as the one she had sent him by Morag's brother-- shaking his head.

"Ginny, you are not married yet... there will be gossip... you don't understand, I think..." He struggled for words, looking embarrassed when she pretended not to follow the implied meaning of his words.

Finally, she took pity on him. "Don't worry, Garreth, we are as good as married and should anything... happen before... You forget that I spent a long time in Avalon. The Maidens of the Goddess receive a different education than the Glastonbury nuns..." She giggled when she saw the blush spreading over her cousin's cheeks, visible even within the ill-lit tent. "I don't care about the gossip, I doubt any of Arthur's faithful knights will think badly of him for sharing the tent with his soon-to-be wife. Off you go, let me get changed, this dress is really unsuitable for travelling," she added when she heard Arthur's and Lancelot's voices reaching them from outside, their silhouettes moving on the walls of the tent as the tall flames of the fire behind them danced and flickered.

"I see that they trained you well in Avalon, my queen," Garreth teased, "you are more stubborn than before, there's no reasoning with you... Well, be it as you want, and good luck to our Lord Arthur..."

He scurried through the flap and into the night, chuckling silently, before she could find anything to throw at him.

Watching Garreth's silhouette join the others, she quickly improvised a place to sleep for the two of them, adding her blue blanket to Arthur's, laying the Sword to the side. Then she peeled her gown off and banished it into a corner, pulling on the clothes of the Maidens of Avalon, which Morag or Morgaine must have packed for her. The long brown skirt and the spacious shirt were much more suitable for this trip than her bright blue gown.

She was braiding her hair when the tent's flap disappeared momentarily, offering her a view of the fire and the knights gathering around it to cook dinner, before it was replaced by her Lord Arthur coming inside.

"I didn't want to offend you by offering you to share the tent with me, we are not mar..."

She rolled her eyes at him, not sure if he noticed in the semi-darkness, then, lacing her arms around his neck pulled him down and kissed him, feeling herself melt in his arms as he deepened the kiss.

"Like we never shared a tent before," she whispered breathlessly when they pulled away after a long while.

"But you were not Princess Guinevere, the only daughter of King Leodegrance then," he muttered, his lips searching for hers again, his hands suddenly astray under her shirt, hers mirroring their owner's example, struggling to find their way through the labyrinth of laces of his own shirt.

"Ginny," he muttered, and she stilled. He had been right before; they had waited for so long. This wasn't the time nor the place...

"Let us go out before my cousin comes again with some silly excuse to remind us that this is not our wedding night," she said, putting her shirt back to order, giggling in embarrassment when she realised how well she could hear the men sitting by the fire through the fabric of the tent.

"Right... " he muttered, running his hand through his hair, realising the same thing. "Lancelot told me that he showed you the well and you might want to wash... Shall I accompany you, my lady?"

"Yes, please." She giggled, pulling a towel from her bag from beneath her clothes. "It's too small to bathe, but he promised to lead us to a river by tomorrow night."

They exited the tent, and after Arthur told one of the knights where they were going, they walked into the near complete darkness filling the world beyond the circle of light of their fire.