- 9 -

As Ryll dreamt that night, her dreams came to her dark and vivid, more like memories than dreams. She was back in her village again but it was like she was watching her childhood from a distance. She stood, rooted to the spot, watching as a younger version of herself walked solemnly through the village. Ashes littered the streets, catching on the breeze and blowing past Ryll like dirty snowflakes. Bodies lay strewn about the streets, their faces deathly pale, their hands stained black as if burnt. Ryll felt a sob catch in her throat, but though her emotions and fear built up, she could not release them. She stood watching, unable to move, as the child version of her walked through the streets. Then a shadow crossed before her path, standing three times as tall as her, shrouded in mist. The young Ryll held out an object before her. The ring. It glinted though there was no sunlight to catch in its silver. The stone gleamed purple, glowing brighter as Ryll held it up. The figure before her twitched, the blackness swirling out before it. The child Ryll brought the ring to her finger and slid it on. The black figure writhed and then turned into a black mist that streamed into the stone of the ring until it was completely gone. The child turned and looked Ryll straight in the eyes. Her blue eyes flickered black for a moment before fading back to blue.

Ryll took a step back, a silent scream slipping from her open mouth. She stumbled backwards and found herself tripping. She fell backwards, the sense of falling pervading her mind until she woke with a start. She found herself panting as she woke, her cheeks damp with tears. What had she seen? She unclasped the ring and looked down at it. The purple stone glinted innocently. For the first time, Ryll found herself doubting its power. Was something dark hidden within it? Was something dark hidden within her?

Ryll shook the thought from her head. No. She knew her own mind and nothing dark dwelled there. Or do I know my own mind? Ryll asked herself. Perhaps I've forgotten who I really am… The thought scared her. It was one thing to feel insecure about oneself but it was entirely different to feel insecure about the possibility of being dangerous to others without knowing how or why.

Before that dream, she had had every intention of allowing the dreams to occur. She wanted to unravel the mystery of her past, but now… Now she would give anything to forget what she had just seen. She considered Merlin's offer – the remedy Gaius could fix to chase away her nightmares. Maybe she didn't need to relive the past. Maybe it was better not knowing.

Afraid of the ring and its power, Ryll tucked it into the drawer of her bedside table. She felt as if a burden had been lifted from her. Perhaps the ring was not a gift after all. But why then would her mother have bestowed it on her? Surely she did not know of the shadow that lurked within the ring.

She couldn't get her mind off of her dream. It was like poison wrapping around her and choking the air out of her lungs. She threw on some clothes and grabbed a cloak, leaving her room and walking aimlessly down the corridors until she found herself outside. She slid through the shadows and into the stables where she let herself into Owl's stall. The small mare nickered softly when she saw Ryll, coming forward to place her head against Ryll's chest. Ryll stroked the velvet softness behind her ears, taking comfort in the sweet smell of hay and horses. Owl's skin was warm to the touch, and Ryll coaxed the horse to lie down. She settled herself next to her, cradled against Owl's stomach. She rested her head on her shoulder as the mare's breathing deepened and sleep overcame them both.

…

"Have my horse ready."

"Yes, Sire."

Ryll woke with a start. Where was she? The stables. Straw pricked her in the back and shoulder. She sat up, looking around. Owl looked at her with wide brown eyes. Ryll heard voices nearby and recognized Arthur's voice. In all her turmoil the night before, she had completely forgotten that she was supposed to be riding with him this morning. She hastily brushed down her clothes – fortunately she had thrown clothes suitable for riding the night before – and removed bits of hay from her hair. Then she opened the stall door to greet Arthur. He seemed surprised to see her there already.

"You're here early," he said.

"Yes, I am." She winced inwardly, hoping that she had gotten all the bits of hay out of her hair.

"Good. I'll have the stable boy saddle your horse."

As he and Ryll waited for the stable boy to prepare both horses for the ride, Ryll turned to Arthur. "Do you ever do anything for yourself?" she asked.

Arthur lifted an eyebrow. "Of course I do. I-" He hesitated.

"You have a servant to clean your room and bring your meals, you have a stable boy saddle and groom your horse, you have someone to clean your armor and sharpen your sword. Do you even dress yourself in the morning or does someone help you with that too?"

Arthur stared at her for a moment. "Is there a problem with that?" he asked finally.

"No, I guess not. It just seems like you rely on other people for a lot of basic things. I mean, my mother dressed me when I was a child, but I learned to do that myself by your age." She smiled to show that she was teasing him.

"Well, I can sword fight and use a mace. I don't have help with that," he countered.

"Because mace fighting is an integral part of life."

"It is when you're a prince. You're feisty this morning. Have I done something to offend you?"

"No," Ryll amended. "Let's go." She mounted her horse and then cocked an eyebrow at Arthur. "Can you mount by yourself?"

"I can beat you on horseback any day," he retorted, swinging into the saddle with ease.

"We'll see about that." Ryll nudged Owl and the chestnut mare took off down the cobblestone roads that led out of the city. She heard Arthur's horse clattering behind her. They tore through the streets, causing several people to leap out of the way. Ryll laughed with pleasure as they breached the gates and passed out into the fields. She raced on, Arthur close behind her. The wind tore at her hair, tossing it wildly out behind her. She leaned low in the saddle, feeling the sting of Owl's mane against her cheeks. She raced along the forest, splashing through a shallow pond.

"Race you to that tree," she shouted back to Arthur, unsure of whether or not he heard her. She pressed Owl to speed up and laughed blissfully as the little horse tore toward the tree. Only when she had passed it did she pull up, turning Owl to see how far behind Arthur was. He came up a few moments later, his horse panting slightly with the exertion.

"That," Arthur said, slightly out of breath, "is a fast horse."

"Is it the horse or the rider?" Ryll asked, smirking. She felt so carefree in that moment. It was as if she had left behind every worry and every fear, every nightmare that had pervaded her sleep over the last eighteen years.

"Alright, so you're a better horseman than me."

"Horsewoman," Ryll corrected. "And yes, I told you I would be."

"I think you're just as cocky as me," Arthur said, grinning.

"I have pride in being good at something that most woman are not," she replied. "You've still yet to see me sword fight."

"Another day perhaps. Let's sit down for awhile and let the horses rest." He dropped to the ground from the saddle and pulled a blanket out of one of the saddle bags. Then he pulled a package out of the other. He spread out the blanket and the package in the middle. "Breakfast?" he asked, opening up the package to reveal sweet rolls and fresh fruit. Ryll felt a trill of excitement.

"Wonderful." He motioned for her to sit down, sitting across from her and serving the food.

"Let me guess, the cooks down in the kitchens made these rolls," Ryll teased him.

"No, actually, I baked them myself this morning just before planning out the details to the tournament and meeting with my father about the upcoming signing of a treaty." Ryll reached over to shove his shoulder playfully.

"I don't even know how to bake," Arthur said, grinning.

"To be fair, I don't either," Ryll admitted. They started laughing.

As Ryll bit into one of the sweet rolls, it struck her how odd a moment this was. She was sitting having breakfast with Prince Arthur, joking around with him as if they had been friends for ages. She feared for a moment that she had overstepped her boundaries, but he seemed content with how she addressed him.

"Do you want to ride through the forest after we're finished eating?" she asked.

"Yes," Arthur agreed. "I need to be back in an hour to continue making preparations for the tournament."

"Of course."

"Will you come to watch it?" Arthur asked. Ryll knew that he was really asking if she would come to watch him.

"Yes. It sounds exciting. I'll give you a white handkerchief to tie around your wrist or whatever it is you do with them."

"Do you even own a white handkerchief?" he asked.

"No, I don't, but I'll acquire one somehow."

The conversation paused. Then Arthur cleared his throat and began to clean up what was left of their breakfast. Ryll folded the blanket and handed it back to him. They mounted up and rode toward the forest, this time at a walk.

"This is nice," Arthur said after a long silence. "It seems like I never really have enough time to get out and enjoy Camelot. I'm always busy planning something or overseeing battle tactics or training new knights. I can't actually remember that last time I just enjoyed myself without some other matter looming overhead."

"I can imagine that would get tiring after awhile," Ryll sympathized.

"It can be, but it's my duty."

"Do you ever wish you were born someone else?" Ryll asked him suddenly. "Not a prince, that is."

Arthur pondered this for a moment. "Sometimes," he said, "but then I look at my kingdom and my people; I watch my father rule and Camelot thrive. I realize how much everything in Camelot means to me. What would I be without it? It is my purpose, my responsibility, and one day it will be mine to rule. I consider myself lucky. Privileged to have the honor of being prince of such a kingdom."

And Ryll could see it. She could see his love for Camelot in the way he sat tall in the saddle, the way his eyes got distant when he spoke of it. "You'll make a great king some day," she said softly.

Arthur looked at her, eyes slightly unfocused as if he were still lost in thought. "Thank you. I hope I will."

They had entered the forest now, and Ryll led them down a path that she had not been down before. The trees grew thick around them and eventually the path led down below parallel rock walls. The air was cool and damp with the rocks surrounding them. Ryll urged Owl onward until Arthur called out to her.

"We should head back now," he said. Regret tinged his words.

"Alright." Ryll turned her horse around. Just then there was a scattering of small stones from the cliff that rose above them. She looked up and saw a flash of movement. Then a large chunk of rock dislodged itself from the cliff. It came falling down straight at Arthur. "Look out!"

Ryll flung herself out of the saddle and at Arthur. The horses bolted, and she landed hard on top of Arthur. The boulder landed a few feet away. Ryll looked up and saw another flash of movement. The rock had not dislodged itself; that she was sure of.

"Are you alright?" She looked down at Arthur.

"A little shaken. You?"

Ryll smiled shakily. "I'm fine." She was about to mention the movement from the top of the cliff, but Arthur spoke again.

"You saved my life." His blue eyes were warm, and Ryll realized how close their faces were.

"It was nothing, really."

"Saving my life is nothing?" His tone was teasing.

"That's not what I meant." Ryll felt flustered. She moved to stand up, but Arthur caught her arm. Before she could react, he lifted his head and his lips met hers. She was so surprised that all she could do was breathe in sharply. He hesitated, pulling away.

"I'm sorry-" he started to apologize, but Ryll stopped him, placing a tentative hand on his cheek.

"You don't have to apologize for kissing me." Ryll's heart was beating violently beneath her skin. She could feel Arthur's breath under her hand, quicker than normal.

"I shouldn't have." The moment passed. Ryll dropped her hand from his face, blushing. She got to her feet. "We should get back," Arthur said, standing as well.

"Of course." Ryll's head was a mess of confusion. She mounted Owl, all suspicions about the falling rock forgotten. They rode back to the castle in silence. Ryll didn't dare look at Arthur and as soon as they returned to the stables, she handed her reins off to the stable boy and headed back to the castle without a word.

"Ryll, wait!" Arthur caught up to her. "I didn't mean to imply that I didn't want to kiss you. I just shouldn't have."

"Oh." She looked up at him.

"I like you Ryll, and were I in a different position – were I someone…different…then perhaps it would work, but…" He let his words hang in the air, his eyes sad.

"But you're prince of Camelot, and I'm not a princess," Ryll finished his thoughts.

"My father would never approve."

"Arthur, I would never ask you to do something that would put you at odds with your father or Camelot, but you shouldn't have to keep your heart hidden away because of your title." She turned and walked away, leaving Arthur staring after her and though she wondered what he was thinking, she did not turn back to ask him.