Garrett, Gabrielle, and the companions were met at the gates of Castle Rheged, home of Garrett and his family for generations, by Rhys, chief of guards for old King Lorcan.
"Welcome home, Prince Garrett," Rhys said, bowing his pale head stiffly. "My lady," he added to Gabrielle.
"It's good to be back, Rhys," Garrett said softly, placing his hand upon the man's shoulder. "Now, come. I must know all that has happened here if I am to begin my rule properly."
"Of course," replied Rhys, and the six men went into the castle while Gabrielle retreated to her chamber with her Nurse and gentle-women.
"Must it be tomorrow morning? With the body of my father not yet found nor his memory cold in the hearts and minds of my people?" Garrett's brow furrowed with concern and trepidation as he stroked his chin. He shook his head and turned to gaze upon Rhys. "What exactly are you suggesting? That I put on the ring, the crown, and begin my rule now?"
Rhys nodded slowly.
"It is best, my prince; with our enemies already planning war against us."
Garrett hesitated for only a moment, then shut his eyes and agreed. He turned to Rohan, clapping his hand on the man's shoulder.
"Rohan, will you be at my side during the coronation?"
Rohan nodded, a pleased smile on his handsome face that Garrett had singled him out for such an honor.
"Of course," he replied. "Of course I'll be at your side, Garrett. I stuck with you while you got your armor, I'll stay with you now."
Garrett smiled gratefully.
But that night Rohan recieved another vision; a vision which he would confide to no one; a vision which would keep him from attending the ceremony as promised. Which would in fact keep him until almost dusk the following day.
Prince Rohan was waiting in his guest chambers, staring into the fire as he waited for Garrett to send a messenger for him.
The inevitable summons came in the form of twelve year old Padraic.
"Prince Rohan, the king has asked to see you in his private chambers straightaway," Padraic said after going through all of the proprieties of knocking, bowing, and so on. Rohan pushed himself forward from the chair, turning his head to look at the boy.
"I won't make this easy for you Padraic," he said in his best impersonation of Cathbad and King Conchobar. "What does he need me for?"
"I'm sorry, my lord, but he refused to tell me," the page stammered. "That's the message his man told me to send. I suppose they might have left it til the morning..."
"Kings have to start somewhere, boy, it's alright. Has he rested at all; since the coronation, I mean?"
Padraic shook his head. "No, my lord, but he's alone at last, and free of the crowd that's followed him all day."
Rohan hesitated, nodded, and turned to study the boy.
"The day went well for all, then, Padraic."
"Will you stay on, my lord?"
"I will stay on; for a while. Even I am not immune to the god's fire; as you can see. How is Garrett?"
Padraic laughed nervously, slowly feeling more at ease near the young druid. "Still on his own high and burning cloud. All the same, I think he's already looking ahead for storms."
Rohan paused, running his finger along a dusty tabletop, waving his hand toward the room in general. Immediately a few rags leapt up from their places, rubbing the dust from all of the wooden furnishings, Padraic's eyes grew wide as he gazed up on these magical works.
"Storms? So soon?" Rohan asked, then nodded. "Yes...I suppose so..."
Padraic knew he'd already asked Prince Rohan if he would be staying on...but he felt a certain need to repeat the question...or rather, to reword it.
"Do you intend to stay with him, sire, and help him weather them? Or do you count your duty done?"
"To tell you the truth, I've not thought about that yet. Too much has happened, all too quickly...yes, I'll stay. I must, Padraic, I promised him. Besides...it is my place...come. Let's answer this summons..."
When Rohan and Padraic came upon Garrett in the king's private chambers, the young man still hadn't removed his crown or his coronation robes.
Rohan looked at Padraic, smiled, and winked, waving the grinning page away as he entered the room, closing the heavy doors behind him.
"You wanted me?" Rohan said. Garrett stopped rubbing a finger across his lower lip and turned, frowning as he reached out to grasp Rohan's arm.
"I've wanted you all day. You promised to be at my side when I underwent this business of hatching into a king. Where were you?"
Rohan picked up a jewelled tumbler and studied it almost absentmindedly. He knew he couldn't really say where he had been. He shrugged.
"Where I'd have heard you had you called for me...I thought you'd be busy." Setting down the tumbler, Rohan looked up at Garrett, then touched the king's shoulder gently. Garrett bowed his head, and Rohan removed the heavy crown, placing it carefully upon a small, red-velvet pillow nearby.
Rohan and Garrett studied the crown for a moment.
"What's it like," Rohan asked, gazing up at his friend, "becoming king?"
Garrett laughed harshly. "Like being eaten alive!" He said as Rohan helped the king shrug out of the gold coronation cloak. Garrett shrugged. "Or perhaps like being born...I said hatching, didn't I. Being a prince is as different from being a king as the egg is from a day old drageen. I still feel as though I've been kicked up the steps of the throne from a kneeling position right down on the floor."
"I know how you feel, more or less," Rohan said as he helped Garrett climb into bed. "I was never kicked half so high, but then I was a great deal lower down to start with."
Garrett laughed, and Rohan found himself smiling a little as he remembered all of the adventures they'd had in the past two years.
"I was just thinking, Rohan," Garrett said as he pulled the blankets up to his bare chest, watching Rohan settle himself into a nearby chair. "If a king had you beside him, he could rule the world...even Conchobar would agree. Look at what he has accomplished with you at his side! Will you do the same for me? Join me; just long enough for me to get used to this whole king business; and then you can return to Kells. Rohan, swear you'll stay. Please..."
"As long as I am needed, Garrett," Rohan said softly, his voice and all the magic in it lulling the king to sleep. "Sleep now, my king," he said. "And tomorrow we'll speak of all this...king business."
"Finally I've received word from Garrett," King Conchobar said as the companions still in Kells gathered about the meeting table. "We will not arrive in time for his coronation; his advisors thought it best that the ceremony be done quickly, to give Garrett control over a nasty situation. However, we have been invited to attend a banquet, in two weeks time, at his castle."
Cathbad nodded. The king didn't have to say a word.
"I will prepare to wake the dragon," he said happily, hurrying (as fast as was possible for a man older than dirt) up to his chamber, to find the proper potions and words to do the spell.
"I'll help Xena and Bridie pack," Deirdre said.
"Shouldn't you worry about packing your things, daughter?"
"Oh, no father," the princess said, smiling. "I've been ready since the boys left."
Conchobar smiled, shaking his head.
"We'll be ready within the hour, my king," Ivar said as he left the room with Angus and Lugad.
"As will we, King Conchobar," said Maeve, taking Nepthumae's hand and guiding her away from the king, grinning uncontrollably. The two royals had been making cow eyes at each other for the past month, almost since Ivar had brought her to Kells.
"We sent the message a few days ago by pigeon, Your Majesty," Rohan said as he sat beside Siobhan, the Queen Mother. He studied her, found her to be aging quite fast since her husband's death. He did not like the way her hand shook as she shuffled the food around on her plate, nor the way she ate not a bite. "There has been no news from Kells. We have no way of knowing if they have received the missive, or if more fighting has broken out between our soldiers and those loyal to Numaine."
"Did he expect more fighting?" By 'he', Siobhan could only mean Garrett, who had been uneasy to say the least ever since they had sent the invitation.
Rohan shook his head. "No. I am sure your son will be arriving soon. He did not know you were coming, or he would not have gone off soldiering with Uaan and Rhys."
Sibhan shook her head sadly, her gray eyes gazing at the lace tablecloth, which she squeezed now between two delicate fingertips.
"He is so terribly young, to suffer through such a change."
"But ready for it. And able. Better than able."
"I am glad of it," Siobhan said, smiling at the young druidic warrior. "His father's death came as a shock and a grief; and what hurts Garrett hurts me, even though we did much to try to crowd out that sorrow."
"I have not been so fortunate," Rohan said, and he knew that the queen-mother knew of what he spoke. The young man had been the only one to whom Garrett felt he could turn in his time of need, and though it had saved everyone else grief it had not saved Rohan.
"What of Gabrielle?"
Rohan was taken aback; he had thought the conversation finished and had turned to watch the players enter.
"My lady?"
"You have not spoken of my daughter. She must have grieved for her father. She is so devoted; to everything. Her father...her brother...peace..."
"Yes. She smothers everyone with her love, her...kindness. She was very devoted to her father. I'm sure she will miss him terribly."
"Does Gabrielle come to stay with her brother the king?"
"No. She has gone to a Christian convent. She will wait there for my sister, who is coming with the mass from Kells."
"Rohan...forgive me; Prince Rohan...I have seen your powers working, and I know that those powers are good; and that you are wise, though still very young in many ways. Will you stay with my son?"
Rohan bowed his head. "I will give you the answer I have given so many others; I shall stay as long as he needs me."
Torq approached the table, bowed stiffly to Rohan. He felt somehow that he'd come home at last, and meant not to lose any place he might gain here.
"With her majesty's leave...the king Garrett is returned and wants to speak with Prince Rohan. Now, he says."
Rohan stood and bowed, kissing Siobhan's trembling hand.
"Your majesty will pardon me?" He asked.
"For the remainder of your stay," she replied, and Rohan smiled, knowing he had been given as great a gift as any royal could give to one such as himself.
"She's here? They tell me she's here!" Garrett said, struggling out of his hunting clothes and into a fresh tunic top and court pants. Rohan nodded swiftly, watching clothes fly every which way.
"Yes. I've just left her. She can hardly wait to see you, Garrett; we hardly expected you back tonight."
"We plunged full-speed ahead, Rohan," Garrett said. "After we'd bagged a couple boar and a peacock there wasn't much else to hunt. Forests around here seem more dead than alive, old friend."
Rohan nodded.
"Well, come quickly. The feast will have started without us," he said softly, placing his arm over Garrett's shoulders as they headed back down the corridor toward the banquet hall.
The companions from Kells arrived that very night, riding dragons the size of Castle Rheged itself. Pyre carried King Conchobar, Queen Maeve, and Deirdre; Angus, Bridie, and Xena rode atop Terran; Khamsin carried Ivar and Queen Nepthumae; and Cathbad had called up some blue dragons, the smallest of the breed but still twice the size of Rohan's old hut, to carry himself, Iolaus, Lilith, Hercules, and Theseus.
"They're here!" Cried Garrett happily as he wrapped a cloak around himself, stepping out onto his balcony to watch the dragons land in the midst of the purple and blue night.
"We should have let you know," King Conchobar said as he hugged Rohan like his long lost son, "but time was short and we hardly expected to be here so soon. Ah! there's the lad now. Forgive me; the king!"
"You can call me the lad if you like," Garrett said, padding silently across the stone courtyard on bare feet, hugging King Conchobar and the rest of his friends. "Though I feel older than Cathbad with all that's happened."
"And well you should," Cathbad said. He was looking Rohan up and down in the way a sparrow studies the worm it will eat for breakfast. The old druid knew there was something quite different about the boy he had raised from a sapling to an oak; he just wasn't quite sure what it was.
"Ah, well, there's enough time for yapping in the morning," Garrett said. "Rohan, will you do me a kindness and show everyone where they can sleep? I've let the servants have a night off."
Rohan nodded and smiled, waving the king off to his chamber, and proceeded to show everyone to a room with the exception of Deirdre, who clasped her hands demurely before her and studied the young man with a smile lighting up her lovely face. Taking her hand, Rohan led her into his own chambers, where he paused silently before the fire and ran the back of his hand along her cheek.
"I've missed you," he said softly as she leaned into his touch.
"And I you, Rohan," she replied, reaching up to touch his fingers with her own. He smiled, but the smile didn't touch his eyes. The princess noticed. "What is it?" She asked.
He shook his head.
"Nothing," he said. "Or perhaps...perhaps it is something...but nothing for us to worry over. It's not our destinies that I'm worried about, my sweet Deirdre."
"Then who's destinies are you worried about?"
"Garrett's. I had a vision concerning him. And the woman he shall fall in love with."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Something that could happen, that's all. Did Lugad come with you?"
"No, he stayed behind, said there was something he had to take care of."
"All the best, then," Rohan said, leading Deirdre to the bed.
"What's this, then?"
"I want to bare my soul to you, princess," he replied.
Deirdre smiled.
"And you expect me to bare my bosoms in return, I suppose?"
Rohan laughed, leaning back on the bed, pulling her with him as he slowly grew serious.
"Only if you want to," was all he said, looking at her with his bedroom eyes, blue eyes turned so dark they were almost purple and green and blue all at once. Deirdre was lost in them.
Meanwhile, in a room meant for one, like Rohan's, another pair were wooing in the soft glow of candlelight.
"...feels good..." Bridie murmured, leaning back as Angus stroked her back with his bare hands. The thief grinned, wishing he could turn her over and kiss her...but knowing he couldn't. She may be his betrothed, but she was still a lady, with wishes that had to be honored.
"I'm glad you like it. Wish you were taking a bath though, cause then there's no telling where my hands would be," he whispered, reaching a hand around, smoothing his fingers over her flat belly, finding a tiny little nub near her belly-button. "What's this?" He asked. Bridie smiled, wrapped the small cloth she rested on over her bare breasts, and sat up, turning to face Angus. She fiddled with the small silver ring in her belly-button, running her fingers over the tatoo around it. Angus smiled sheepishly. Not even husbands were supposed to see this.
"A virgin band," he said, resting his index finger on the ring. His thumb traced the intricate designs on her skin. "Tradition, I suppose," he said softly, and Bridie nodded, letting the cloth fall from her breasts.
"I love you, Angus," she whispered as his hands cupped her breasts.
"I love you, Bridie," he replied, leaning over to kiss her. He was breathing hard, his hands moving non-stop over parts of her no man should see before the couple lay on their wedding bed. Pressing his forehead to hers, Angus tried to control himself. "I can't. I want to, but if I do Rohan will hate me for the rest of his life."
"It's all right," Bridie replied, running her fingers through his tight black curls. "It's all right."
"Announcing King Garrett of Rheged!"
The young man strode into the room, his blue velvet robe trailing behind him like the Irish Sea, his crown slightly tipped to the left, looking as though it were readying itself to topple over his ear. He had never looked more like a boy before, Xena thought as she gazed upon the nervous king, yet never had he seemed, to Xena's eyes, more handsome as he sat in his place at the head of the table.
"Thank you, my friends, for coming," he said over the loud hush that fell over the hall and its occupants. "Please, enjoy this the first meal shared between the three allied kingdoms of Kells, Temra, and Rheged."
A general cheer went up before everyone fell to eating.
"Garrett," Rohan asked as he leaned in for a hunk of bread, "was that a dragon I saw perched atop your castle this morning?"
Garrett paused, fingering the dagger at his belt.
"A dragon?" He asked softly, staring at the tablecloth. "What sort of a dragon?"
"Rather small; same color as Pyre, so it's probably a fire-dragon. But still mighty small for a red. It looked to be sleeping last I saw."
"Could it be...my dragon?"
Bridie looked up from the hand she was holding with Angus.
"Your dragon? What do you mean? Certainly not...your dragon."
Garrett nodded. "It could be. I should try to wake him."
Rohan and Cathbad reached out at the same time, touching the arm of the young king that was closest to the druid. They spoke nearly the same words, at almost the same time.
"My king you must be..." Rohan began.
"...be careful," Cathbad said, and the two druids glanced at one another. After a moment, the elder druid released Garrett's arm, relinquishing all control of the situation to Rohan.
"You don't know anything about this dragon; it may be a wild dragon, not meant for man to tame. And if it is your dragon, it may not be as easily gentled as the rest were."
"I know all that, Rohan," the king said, turning his gaze out the window, onto the sea beyond. "But don't you see? I must try."
