A Week with a Prince

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖞

Arthur felt too elated to fall asleep that night, not even the monotonous rhythm of the rain falling on the roof of the tent, rendering the air within damp and cool, could lull him to sleep.

He watched Ginny, his soon-to-be queen, settle in his embrace the moment Gawaine left them, and close her eyes. He watched her fall asleep-- feeling, rather than seeing once the candles were out-- her head resting on his chest as if it was the most natural thing, an old habit of theirs, something they had always done.

And yet she had only just come back to him after all that time... That year and a few months when they had kept her hidden from him in Avalon had been the longest in his life, there had been too many moments when he thought that he would never see her again. But here she slept in his arms now, his to love and treasure, and every moment he spent with her felt better than the best moment that had just passed.

His happiness, his love for her in that instant, had no boundaries, it never would have any, he was sure... He would love and protect her forever, and so would his men whom she bewitched in the mere two days since they met her, and so will the whole country because of the legendary Sword that responded only to her, her ties with Avalon, and, above all the rest, her great, loving heart...

There must be a way to avoid that hasty promise he had given to Morgaine... He could never take this fragile, beloved girl into a battle, risk her life-- she had given him enough fright with those Saxons they had met on the road. His feelings for her were too great to expose her to danger to fulfil a whim of the Lady of Avalon. He would keep her safe in Camelot until the war was over and the Saxons invading their shores only a distant memory...

The hissing voice suddenly snaking its way into his mind, scattering his rambling thoughts, seemed to be brought by the raindrops, carried by the very air seeping inside the tent through its soaked walls. And he knew without the slightest doubt that it belonged to Morgaine.

"We trust you, brother, my King Arthur, to honour your pledge. You accepted our conditions. Do not betray us if you want peace and happiness not only for yourself but for your great Kingdom of Britain." The disembodied voice paused slightly and then it was back in his head, accompanied by a vision, "Remember," it said, and he could see Ginny standing on the low barge materializing from the mists issuing from the waters of the Lake, feel the great surge of happiness again, just as he had felt it then... He could not risk losing her in those mists again... "Exactly. Remember what you risk by disobeying the Lady of the Lake and Avalon, brother..."

Then the voice was gone, dissipating into a low whisper, then turning into silence even as the last raindrops hit the roof, and Arthur's eyes started to feel heavy. "Morgaine..." he whispered feebly, wanting to protest against his sister's words and her magic, but she was stronger than him; she had always been.

"Sleep well," her reply came as a susurrus followed by a soft laughter, which he did not hear anymore, and in the morning recalled it only as a part of a strange dream.

It had stopped raining at some point during the night, and the world was bathed in warm sunshine as Ginny followed Arthur out of their tent in the morning, squinting against all the bright light.

Their group, missing Gawaine and the knight whose name, Arthur reminded Ginny, was Lamorac, rode through groves and across meadows all day, following the meandering river, avoiding all roads and signs of civilisation until sunset, when they set camp in the first proper forest they encountered on their northbound journey from the shores of the Lake.

Ginny and Arthur just rejoined the knights after a quick swim in the river, whose stream became faster, colder, and shallower the farther upstream they went. The Avon already looked nearly like it did around Warwick, reminding Ginny that soon they would reach the castle, and she would be left with her aunt for three long weeks at least, with Arthur gone, travelling between Camelot and the troops he had left on the northern shores. She got used to his closeness, his being around so much in these few days they spent on the road, how was she supposed to do without him now?!

She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his shoulder the moment they sat down by the fire, making him chuckle with delight and kiss her on top of her head.

The dinner was just ready when Gawaine and Lamorac returned, adding to the general happiness. Ginny listened to the men talking around the fire after dinner until her head started to droop, then let Arthur lead her to their tent.

Two more days and nights passed in such a way, the sunshine surrendering to rain again, and fog, the river turning into a fast, hungry current. And then, one late afternoon, they rode out of the infinite forest and saw the many towers of Warwick Castle in front of them.

"Here we are," Garreth muttered, riding up to Ginny and Arthur where they stopped at the head of the group to admire the view. "Welcome to Warwick. And look, there's Mother, and... Father, waiting for us," he said with the slightest hesitation in his voice, pointing towards Aunt Ealasaid and Myrddin, who just appeared on the drawbridge.

Ginny smiled at her cousin proudly. She could imagine how difficult and strange it must still feel for him to look at Myrddin, the famous bard and wizard, as his father.

Then she sighed deeply as her eyes met Arthur's-- now they were here, and he would leave her...

As if he could read her thoughts, Arthur lifted her hand to his lips, saying, "In three weeks time I'll be back here to pick up my bride, and take her home to Camelot. If God wills, this will be our last goodbye."

She smiled at him, reminding herself that such was certainly the will of the Goddess-- she would follow him into all battles he had to fight.

Lancelot reached them then, and the four led the group of Arthur's Companions towards the castle together.