A Week with a Prince

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖞-𝕱𝖔𝖚𝖗

She felt entirely different about Arthur's leaving in the morning, as she followed him into his chamber to help him dress.

It had started to rain during the night again, and the damp chill filling the chamber bathed in the pre-dawn, grey, watery light brightened only by the trembling flames of a small fire made her shiver.

She didn't want him to go. She couldn't stay here without him knowing that he was going to visit an army camp before he would reach the safety of Camelot, the castle he meant to complete and prepare for her before the wedding day. There were still rooms to furnish and towers needing to have their roofs replaced, he had told her, but it was nearly ready-- the old Roman fort overlooking the Lake and its islands, a part of Ginny's dowry given to Arthur in advance by her father when he asked for it, explaining his intentions to make it the seat of the High King of Britain and his Queen, had turned into a great castle in his hands... And she couldn't wait for the moment to see it, to live there with him, and never let him out of her sight again.

"I don't want you to go," she whispered, her voice breaking as she pulled on the straps of his armour, securing it in place, eyes welling up with tears she did not mean to shed yet couldn't stop.

"I'll be back soon. I promise. And you must promise me that you'll stay put and safe here with your aunt. I'm leaving some of my men to keep an eye on you for me, Ginny. God, I wish I didn't have to leave you out of my sight..."

She sighed unhappily but resigned to their fate. "Well, it seems both the God's and the Goddess' will that we spend these weeks apart. But, hopefully, it's the last of their trials."

He nodded, pulling her in an embrace, crushing her against the cool metal of his armour.

"Where is Mount Badon? she asked, walking across the chamber with him, towards the door beyond which Garreth and Lancelot were already waiting.

Only now did Arthur realise that she had heard and remembered Myrddin mentioning the place where his army was gathering slowly. That was the reason why she looked so worried.

"I'll be safe, Guinevere," he said seriously, placing his fingers under her chin and tilting her face up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "There is no immediate danger from the Saxon troops. We are simply being careful, that's all."

"Where is it?" she insisted. "I'll... feel better, knowing where you are. Is it Mons Badonicus?"

He smiled. "It is. Or the Bowden Hill, if you prefer. I don't know why we need so many names for our towns and villages, and hills and rivers... The Romans are gone, and they won't be coming back, not even now when we actually need them. Their help against the Saxons and Northmen would do us a great lot of good..." he mused while Ginny closed her eyes and tried to recall a map shown to her by her tutors during her studies. It wasn't that far...

"It isn't too far from the great ring of stones on the Salisbury Plain, quite close to Aquae Sulis," she said, looking in his eyes again.

He smiled at her again. "See, I won't be far."

She nodded, persuading her lips to return his smile, feeling somewhat reassured. He was not going far; she knew well that there were no Saxons apart from those who were loyal to her father in those parts of the country, they had just travelled across those places on their way here. He would be safe, and he would come back to her soon... Still, tears trickled down her cheeks as they stopped by the door and kissed goodbye.

"Ginny, please..." he muttered, not exactly sure what he was begging her for. To stop crying? To feel less heartbroken by his leaving? No, not really. It was the best thing ever to feel her love for him so great, as deep, as profound as the love he was feeling for her. It was the silly tears which the sight of her coaxed into his own eyes that he didn't want-- the last thing he needed now was Lancelot making fun of him.

She understood, giggling finally as she wiped the corners of his eyes in the sleeves of her nightdress.

"Off you go. And then come back for me, I'll be waiting." She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his one more time, then opened the door and exchanged a quick goodbye with Sir Lancelot, a hug and a kiss with her cousin.

She watched them all through the window, the courtyard filled with Arthur's men, those who were leaving mounting their horses and crossing the drawbridge towards the forest, those who were to stay behind with her shaking hands with Lancelot, Garreth and Arthur, until the three, with the last look and an encouraging smile towards the window where she stood watching them, mounted their horses too and disappeared into a thick fog.

She walked back to her own chamber the instant they were gone, bumping into Arwen, who stood just behind the dusty tapestry, observing it suspiciously.

The old nurse squealed with fright as Ginny emerged from behind it, flooding her with a stream of accusing sentences about how she had known, had thought, had suspected... But Ginny wasn't in a mood for any of it.

"Arwen, whatever you think you know, I neither mind nor care about. We will be married in three weeks. Now let me return to bed. There's nothing for me to do today, anyway."

She laid down, pulled Arthur's pillow, redolent of him, to her chest and closed the curtains around the bed, shutting the dismal world out, wishing she could stay in her bed and sleep the following three weeks.

But it was impossible; Arwen, scared when Ginny did not wake up in a couple of hours, called Aunt Ealasaid and together the two women pulled the princess out of the bed, got her dressed, and dragged her into the Great Hall, full of guests again, for lunch.

And the three weeks passed so, with Ginny obliged to attend lunches and dinners, being polite to guests who were coming on purpose to see her, to make acquaintance and gain favour of the soon-to-be High Queen of Britain, to get a glimpse of the legendary Sword always hanging at her belt.

On the very rare days when the castle was empty of visitors, Aunt Ealasaid kept her busy with her questions about Ginny's stay in the Convent of Glastonbury, her stay in Avalon, and Arthur...

And once the parcel arrived for her from Camelot, she had no time left for her melancholic musings at all.