Epilogue: Three Years Later
The servants were in a tizzy. It wasn't every morning that the crown prince, half-brother to the newly-crowned queen, came to the Lower Town gates in person to receive travelers. Who could these three cloaked strangers be?
They all smelled of desert air and spices. Two wore their hoods slung low across their faces, but the wavy-haired young man with the massive broadsword had his thrown back to better showcase a general aura of daring the world to take a swing at him. Ignoring the nervous shifting of his bodyguards, the prince dismounted from his horse–actually dismounted–while the strangers broke off their amiable conversation and did the same, grins breaking across the visible parts of their faces.
"Vicky!" the unconcealed young man shouted gleefully, quickly crossing the space between them. "You've gotten fatter!"
"Yes, well, you've gotten greasier, I see. Physically and personality-wise; I wouldn't have thought that was possible! Must be taking lessons from Cenred." The two embraced warmly.
"It's good to see you again, Arthur. Your supplies and aid came in handy more times than I care to recount, and your correspondence was always amusing. The bit last week about Gwaine's barkeep talents made Merlin laugh so hard I thought he might v—puke." The other cloak might have shot the slight, dark-haired girl speaking a dirty look and maybe an elbow; the prince's attendants found it hard to see beneath the hood.
The prince embraced her as well, not as warmly but still with fondness. "Trust me, your letters were just as good at helping me stay sane. You really should have checked over the ones Gwaine wrote before you sent them off to me, though. He included some very interesting observations about your and Merlin's...can you even call that courtship?"
He left her red-faced and sputtering (heh heh heh. Better watch your back, Gwaine) to greet the last stranger most warmly of all, first grasping his hand and then pulling him into a hug when he was acknowledged with a laugh and a "Vicky. I hope you realize I'll be using that forever, now."
"Merlin, I will forgive that exactly three times, and then you'll find out how many knives I carry on an average day. Use them sparingly."
" 'Course, Vicky." The absolute cheek! The prince stepped back, smiling from ear to ear, and for a moment one footman glimpsed part of what looked like an angry-looking red scar just beneath the hood's lining. However, under that was a grin bright enough to wake the dead.
The wavy-haired one, presumably Gwaine, shattered the moment, dodging around and hooking an arm around his elbow to keep the prince bodily between him and the fuming pale girl. "So, Princess, when do we get to meet your sister? And the infamous Gwen?" He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"This evening," the prince returned, yanking his arm out of Gwaine's and essentially throwing him to the wolves. Nodding to the girl, he added, "You'll like them, Freya. They're both terrifying."
She paused in pursuing her victim to offer him a predator's smile. "My prince, I'm sure I have no idea what you're implying."
The hooded boy piped up, "Well, anyone who can put up with this idiot for practically her whole life is someone I want to meet."
They all handed the reins of their horses to various attendants and started back toward the castle, Arthur subtly taking the last boy's arm with a grumble of "God, Merlin, hurry it up, will you? We haven't got all week."
"Oh, so you think that now that you're a prince I'm going to take orders? I may not have known you were a prince but I've always known you were a spoiled prat."
"I swear, you're going to be the first person in history who waits three years to come to Camelot only to be banished ten steps from the front gate."
"Banish me? When you've missed me for all these years?"
"Who said anything about missing you? I just needed a court sorcerer who I knew wouldn't blow me up."
"Never mind sorcerer; you need me as an advisor. If your skills as a spy are any indication, you'll make a terrible crown prince."
And there, on dusty cobblestones that smelled faintly of oranges, at the spot where you could best hear water rushing through the tunnels underground, a Golden Age began. At the time, no one noticed.