Thaumaturgy

Chapter 20

Merlin stared out of his bedroom window, his slight form balanced artfully on the ledge, and sighed as he stared down at the scene that was playing out in the courtyard below. His dashing bondmate was currently being engulfed in a lumpet-like hug from an overenthusiastic Rachel. With a "hrumph" of distaste, he turned away from the site and stretched himself in the sun. Merlin hopped down from the windowsell and made his way out of the room silentlty and his mouth set in a frown of resalution.

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An hour later Arthur sat by a verdant pond with Rachel. On the mossy grond was sprawled a heavy purple rug, embroidened with the sigal of the House of Northumberia. Arthur sat on the rug, legs stretched out infront of him, watching as Rachel scampered around the pond, looking under stones and talking in a contstant exited static of chatter.

Arthur repressing a sigh, tilted his head towards the sanguine blue sky. He stretched in the sun and called out to the princess.

"Princess! We have a picnic!" he called, gesturing to the picnic basket that sat on the rug by him. Rachel looked up startled like she had nod idea why he was saying that.

"I know Im lookinf for newt babies" She said and then went back too looking. Arthur plastered on a wider fake smile and continued trying.

"Uhm...is this native to northumbria???" he asked, casting his regal gaze around until it fell up a magenta flower like an orchid that popped itself up from a small rocky patch.

"I couldn't tell you. I don't really know about plants so much." Rachel responded distracted, exclaiming in happiness as a tadpole snuck out from behind a pond weed.

"Oh. ...di you know, the bark of that tree can be used to heal wounds?" Arthur asked, wanting desperately to engage the absent minded princess, thinking guiltily of her father's armies.

"No." She said, eyes following the tadoled in the pond. She glanced up, "Oh, no! Not that one. Newts are allergic to it! It kills them!" she looked distressed.

"Oh! uhm...sorry?" Arthur attepted but she had already gone back to the pond.

He sighed and gave up and flopped back on the carpet in dispear. As he gazed att the sky filled canopy he heard a soft padding near his head and a fuzzy ear appeared in his vew.

Arthur carcked open his left blue eye; the little black ear was attached to a little balck cat. It was the color of midnight. Something loosened in Arthur's chest as the creature stumbled towards him, as though it were unused to its furry paws. As it crept towards him, Arthur was about to see a splodge of pure white fir on the cat's flat belly. Despite its lack of grace, the cat had unusally intelligent blue eyes which pearched above cheekbonds and a little pink nose frame by wirey whiskers.

"Arthur!" Called Rachel, excited trill running through her tender voice. Arthur sighed from his place inder the strong oak tree, casting it's brances over the clearing with the pond and providing much needed shade in the sun, and abandoning his meze of cold meat and cheese he stood and stode to wear Rachel was standing by the pondbank, excitement bizzing through her expression. The black cat followrd Arthur, prancing with his little paws high through the soft reedy grass.

"Look at the newt babies!" Rachel gasped. "Aren't they adorable in their littlr flock. These ones must be only around two months old: they're only just passed the tadpole stage!" she gushed in one breath. Arthur hummed possitivley, trying to muster some enthusiasm and thinking longingly of the turky leg he'd just abandoned, or better still Melrin, who was still in the castle. He felt a pang as he thought about him, thinking about how Merlin didn't want him to come, how concerned he was for his safety. He absently the stroked the cat behind the ears and petted it.