Broadcast mind ; Giving me enough time in my life to grow up
The castle's orchard is a never-ending world to a child.
Trees and flowers and fruit, a distant sweet aroma in the air and a soft sound of bees. It is a vast area and thus it is the perfect hiding spot.
Who can learn Camelot's history on a sunny day, anyway?
Everything in Camelot is pretty and grand and foreign. You feel a bit out of place here, since everyone expects you to feel at home. With a dead father and an absent mother, you try and fit yourself in to a family that was never really your own.
Which is why you sneaked into the prince's room, and dragged him out here to play knights. True, the swords wouldn't be able to harm a rabbit but that's what pretend is for.
Currently, your dress is dirty and your air is a mess but you lift it and you yell 'Camelot!' like you've seen the knights do and charge at Arthur as if he is a terrible dragon at the very least.
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You aren't really sure how to pretend, yet. Sometimes in your bed at night with your eyes squeezed shut you pretend that you are not a prince, but that is different to what this wild banshee of a girl wants from you. Strong and fearless, she comes at you with a sword and you strike back with everything in you, not knowing how to be a dragon, or a brother.
Still, the name of your kingdom fires something in your blood, and the clack and clash of wooden blades is prolonged. You train every day, and still she sends the sword tumbling out of your hand to land in the grass.
It's with resentment that you rub your smarting knuckles, go to shoulder against a tree. You haven't learnt to pretend graciousness yet, either. "I'm supposed to be at lessons, not playing! I don't want to play with you, anyway! Why don't you just go home!"
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You win, and it is a thrill. At the same time, you lost.
His words cut deep into your skin, into your heart. For a minute, it is almost as if he hit you.
It is not your fault that you won. Your father always allowed you to learn, even though you were a girl. Your father said you are as willful as the King himself.
But your father is gone, your father is dead. They buried him on a hill and they took him away. And when he tells you to go away, go home, you wish for the same thing, the very same thing, you just want to go home to your father.
You are his elder so are supposed to be strong and calm, but your eyes sting with tears and the truth comes out as an angry sob that echoes through the trees -
"I don't have a home to go to!"
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Uncle Gorlois was not really your uncle, but you miss him all the same. And you may know what the absence of a parent feels like, but not what it is to lose one, to have something so solid vanish from your world. Morgana is not your cousin, nor is she your sister, but there's a note of pain in her voice that awakens your protective instincts, the ones that will serve you true for the rest of your life.
So though your little fists are clenched and your pride is tender, you turn back to her. Press your lips together and breathe through your nose.
"Liar."
And even though you don't hit girls, right now she's not really like any girl you've ever met, so you knock her on the arm like the knights do to you sometimes, friendly.
"Camelot's your home now," you say, and take her hand. They'll be looking for you both. "So come on."
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His words leave you speechless. And for a moment you just look down at your hands before you smile.
You'll take the blame for this one happily.