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songs I listened to while writing this,
enjoy the silence, Depeche mode.
sweater weather, the neighbourhood. i wanna be yours, arctic monkeys. yellow, coldplay.
"I can't believe it, the Morgana Le Fay, the Excalibur... it's incredible!" mused Hermione enthusiastically as she looked at the mythical blade wrapped in cloth on the floor of the car, she'd insisted on Ophelia repeating all of the details that happened beyond the mirage they could see, Ophelia obliged, opting to remove the part where she and Harry did the deed on her ancestral land. "That's amazing." Hermione repeated for the fifteenth time.
The four of them were now back in Black Bessie, after a day of travelling to and from Avalon they were exhausted and needed time to recover before they wandered themselves into battle, they were now quietly drifting on the deserted roads of the countryside, the sun was hanging low in the sky and the smell of a storm was carrying through the winds, Ophelia sensed it was perhaps an hour away judging by the clouds themselves.
Harry, who was sat in the back seat with Ophelia, couldn't take his eyes off of her even if he tried and was beaming softly to himself as he looked at her, marvelling at her with an awe he couldn't describe.
He just wished that no matter what happened, he'd never forget the way she looked in this moment, that he'd always feel the same surge of adoration rushing through him when he saw her so at ease in the setting sun, her skin glowing radiantly in its golden rays — he ran a hand down his face and felt his aching smile against his fingers — he hoped he'd get wrinkles from it.
"So could you knight me?" asked Ron in the driver's seat, "Because technically you're the King."
Ophelia chuckled, "I guess I could, but technically Queen Liz is the only one who can make you a Knight of the Realm."
