A/N: I don't know what happened the first time I tried this...
Uther smiled. Everything had gone well. The feast was wonderful: glistening meats, ripened fruit and sweet cakes filled with berries and honey. The dining room of the castle had been decorated with colourful ribbons and flowers that had been placed all around. Most importantly, he had Catrina by his side; his wife. He could see Arthur, Gwen, Vivian and Cenred from where he was sitting. They were eating and laughing and seemed unable to stop talking. He had heard snatches of their conversation earlier. Something about bewitchment and faeries.
Catrina must have seen him looking because she leaned closer to him and said, "They speak of strange things, Uther."
"More strange than true," He said, ripping some chicken meat from the bone. "I don't believe in magic."
"They all seem to have had the same dream." She sipped her wine. "Very odd."
He watched the four newlyweds as they got to their feet and walked towards him and Catrina. "Joy to you, my friends," Uther said.
"We wanted to wish you well, my lord," Arthur said. "And to thank you for what you've done for us."
"Come and sit by me and Catrina," Uther said, motioning some servants to bring more chairs forward. "It's your wedding as well as ours, and I think we will be having some entertainment soon. Gaius!" He called forward the elderly servant, "What entertainment do we have?"
Gaius looked though the scroll he had listing the entertainment that had been arranged. "The first piece of entertainment is a play called The Cruel Deaths of Pyamus and Thisbe. It's a comedy, allegedly."
"That'll do nicely," Uther said. "It's either that or eunuchs. Send them in."
"Yes, my lord," Gaius said, leaving the hall.
A short time later Leon entered the hall and stood on a shallow stage that had been set up specifically for the wedding. The guests went quiet and watched expectantly. Leon straightened his posture and began, "My lords and ladies, we do not mean to offend with our play. We must assure you that all of the deaths that take place are not real. And neither is the lion."
Uther smirked. He couldn't tell if Leon was trying to be ridiculous or not. Five other actors walked on. Soft laughter went up among those watching the play. One of the actors was dressed in a poorly made lion costume, another was holing a candle and thorny branch and yet another was struggling to carry a large stone and had his clothes smeared with clay.
Leon continued with the prologue, "We present The Cruel Deaths of Pyramus and Thisbe, however, we have had to recast some of the parts due to some difficulty with the story. Gwaine of Orkney will be playing Pyramus and Percival Pellinor will be playing Thisbe. Lancelot du Lac-" He indicated the man with the stone. "-Will be playing the part of the Wall. The hole in the wall that Thisbe and Pyamus talk through will be represented by a hole made with his fingers. Elyan of Ganis-" This was the man with the candle, "-Will be playing Moonlight. The lion will be played by Tristan of Cornwall."
Uther leaned over to Catrina and whispered, "I wonder if the lion can talk, since these asses seem to be able to."
"Shh!" She laughed, trying to keep her voice down.
Leon, Moonlight, Thisbe and the Lion moved away from the stage to make way for the other players.
Gwaine threw his hands to the side, "Oh grim-looked night! Oh night with hue so black! I fear my Thisbe's promise is forgot. Oh, sweet and lovely Wall that separates my land from her father's. Show me the hole I may see her through.
Lancelot dropped the stone, narrowly missing Gwaine's foot, and held the other arm out making a hole with his forefinger and thumb.
Gwaine glared at him. "Thanks, courteous Wall." He bent down and looked through the hole. "But no Thisbe do I see."
Percival walked onto the stage wearing a dress, cloak and long wig. He didn't look happy. "Oh, Wall," he said in a monotone. "Full often hast thou heard my moans, for parting my fair Pyramus and me."
"I see a voice!" Gwaine said. "I will spy again." He looked thought the hole again. "Thisbe?"
"My love, thou art, I think."
"Oh, sweet Thisbe, kiss my though this hole in the wall."
Percival grimaced, "I would, fair Pyramus. But my lips would not reach you through the hole. Sorry."
Gwaine looked up at Percival sharply, mouthing the words, 'Keep to the script'. Percival only shook his head. Gwaine felt his cheeks burning; he could hear the audience starting to laugh again. "Oh, sweet Thisbe, your breath is as the flowers and your voice as the lark song. I long for you."
"Most radiant Pyramus, you are lily-white and rose-red. I will meet you a Ninus's Tomb where we may unfold the passion of our love."
"I will go without delay," Gwaine said before leaving the stage. Percival followed gracelessly.
Lancelot turned to the audience. "I, the Wall, may now leave." With that he left the stage, dropping the stone on the ground with a loud thud.
Uther sighed, and leaned back in his chair. "If only they had waited until the wall went offstage. Then the play would have finished by now."
"I know." Cenred muttered, "You can't get the walls these days. They're always wondering off when they should be separating actors."
Elyan walked on stage with Percival. Elyan held up his candle while Percival said, "This is Ninus's tomb. Where is my love?"
Tristan walked on, dressed as the lion, his paws were covered with wet, red paint. He held up his front paws in an attempt to appear threatening. "Roar," he said.
"Oh no. A lion," Percival said, plodding off the stage and untying his cloak so that it dropped to the floor.
Arthur grinned and rested his chin on Gwen's shoulder. "That lion roars well."
"Thisbe runs well too," she whispered. "Or she would is she actually ran."
Tristan picked up the cloak and shook it in his paws, covering it in red paint. He then dropped the clock and wordlessly shuffled off the stage.
Gwaine rushed back onto the stage, gazing at the ceiling. "Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams. But wait!" He knelt down on one knee and picked up the cloak, holing it above his head. "What, stained with blood? A vile lion has deflowered my dear Thisbe."
Offstage Leon turned red. He covered his face with his hands and started to mutter the word 'devoured' to himself continuously.
Gwaine didn't notice the snickering of the audience ad he pulled a wooden dagger out of its sheath. "Out, sword, and wound," he cried. He drove the dagger into the gap between his arm and body and tried to lie still on the ground. "Now I am dead." The effect was ruined by Elyan walking off stage, grumbling about his dignity.
"How is Thisbe supposed to see him if the Moon is gone?" Catrina asked. Her boredom was getting worse by the second.
Percival appeared back onto the stage and knelt by Gwaine's prone form. "What, dead, my love?" He bent down and picked up the wooden dagger. "Come, blade, my breast imbue." He wedged the blade between his arm and torso. "Farewell, my friends," he said, and flopped over onto his side.
Leon walked back onto the stage, his head bowed with shame. "That is our play," he said weakly as Gwaine and Percival got to their feet. He waited for applause.
None came.
The deathly silence slowly gave way to chatter while Gaius ushered the actors out of the hall. On one of the tables, two guests were being ignored by their neighbours. One of them sighed and drained her goblet. "That's enough of that," she said, and got to her feet. "Let's go home."
He companion turned to her. "Do we have to?" he asked. "I think they're going to have the eunuchs on next."
"You made me fall in love with a donkey man. I say when we leave."
He grinned and stood up, taking her hand in his. "You make a good point."
Morgana raised her free hand, and a shimmering dust drifted in from the windows, onto the unheeding crowd. She whispered to herself, "Hand in hand with faerie grace, we will sing and bless this place."
They left together as shadows, singing a song that no one else heard. On their way out they passed Leon in the corridor. The acting troop had gone to the street party, leaving him on his own. He hadn't felt like celebrating. After the disastrous performance in front of the royal couple he hadn't been able bring himself to read his final speech. It was a shame, he thought, as he'd been rather pleased with it. Now he looked up and down the deserted corridor, got to his feet, and said to the absent audience.
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended-
That you have but slumbered here,
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idol theme,
No more yielding than a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend.
If you pardon, we will mend.
Give me your hands if we be friends,
And Leon shall restore amends.
The End