A/N Happy Easter! Anyway, I figured I should update this, and will probably try and update it every Sunday or Saturday. However, as I am on holidays, I will try and update more than once a week. Thanks.
*25 years later*
"Up and at 'em you lazy daisy!"
The force of the shout was enough to startle the blond-haired mess lying tangled in the warm cocoon of sheets, who had, up until that point, been sleeping quite peacefully. Slowly, as if a butterfly coming out of its cocoon, an arm appears, and then another, until the King of Camelot himself fully appeared, to stare daggers at his cheerful servant.
At this point though, Merlin had already turned his back, and was fussing with Arthur's wardrobe, chattering away at the speed of a horse in full gallop, too caught up in what he was doing to truly notice the full effect of the glare. Arthur rolled his eyes, and, yearning for another hour of peace and quiet, dragged himself from the warm cocoon into the frigid morning air, and so a new day was started.
Balinor reigned in his horse on top of the hill, and breathed in the cool morning air. He had not seen in Camelot in over twenty years, and with that thought brought many more, in trepidation of what may come.
"Ah, and there on top of the hill you will see the statue of prince Balinor, made in commemoration of the treaty signing between Camelot and Deaestidria. Ah, what a momentous occasion."
Balinor shifted in his seat, a smile on his lips as three of Deaestidria's finest knights rode up to him, their blue and silver cloaks floating in the wind. Sir Caradoc Barion, the eldest of the three Barions, his eyes ice-blue and piercing like swords, Lady Nasyra, Sir Caradoc's younger sister, hair as black as ebony, her green eyes cat-like in their beauty, and finally the youngest of the three, Sir Hywell, soft brown eyes, which belied just how clever and ruthless he could be. That was probably where the comment had come from.
Balinor's smile turned to sadness, as he remembered how three had once been four. How cruel the fates were to take his beloved Hunith away, their marriage, as short as Hunith's own life. She had been beautiful. Many would say that her sister, Lady Nasyra was the more beautiful, but Balinor disagreed. While there was a certain beauty to Nasyra's intelligence and strength, Hunith was strong, and had an agile mind, one from which insults could pour from like wine from a -
"Your highness," Sir Caradoc's smooth voice overran Balinor's thoughts. "If we are to reach Camelot before luncheon, I suggest we make haste, it will not do us any favours to keep our host, King Arthur waiting."
Balinor nodded, his thought now once again safely locked in a room far at the back of his mind. Moping for his lost wife would not bring her back, and an addled brain would not do well for the arduous task that was signing a treaty.
"Well, onto Camelot it is."