Early the next morning just before sunrise [and our return from hiatus]
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The Roman slept well in what few hours had remained in the night; still and dreamless for the most part until….
….soft rolling hills of green and an uncommon blue sky overhead had Arthur unusually distracted from his labor in the warmth of the afternoon. He had ordered a short break for the men and had found a moment to himself underneath the broad canopy of the single tree standing proud along the great wall of stone. Making repairs along the Wall were typical occurrences among their duties at the outpost, yet definitely not a favored task by the men. However, their Commander thought it a good deviation and strength builder from the usual patrols and the skirmishes the cavalrymen seemed to prefer.
As Arthur propped his back up against the base of the tree and crossed his arms over his broad chest, his eyelids slipped shut and he easily fell into a light slumber while listening to the gentle sounds of the leaves swishing overhead in the mild afternoon breeze….and thus he had not picked up on their presence as they grew closer. One particularly curious little one quietly approached the sleeping man and blinked its gentle eyes while lifting its head to sniff at the man’s potent scent.
Arthur did not stir and thus the little one lowered its nose to tentatively nudge at the man’s arm where it rested over his abdomen. Arthur’s hand slowly lifted to touch…fingers finding the soft silky curls that covered the little one’s head and thinking only of Lancelot’s springy black hair….a smile readily formed on Arthur’s lips as he adoringly caressed those curls….until the animal made a small sound finally revealing its true identity….green eyes snapped open and Arthur found himself face to face with a plump little black-faced sheep that promptly baah-ed at him.
“You are most certainly NOT who I expected,” Arthur said quietly with a small snort of amusement. A flock of sheep tended by a local farmer had been lazily grazing several yards away while Arthur and the men had been laboring on much needed repairs to the Wall all throughout the morning hours. And apparently had wondered into their work area while the Commander and the men had drifted off to sleep.
Arthur’s fingers continued to flex in the thick curls of the sheep’s head until the Roman began to stir from his slumber….only to discover that he’d been dreaming about the sheep and the warm summer’s day. The curly hair his fingers were nestled in belonged to Lancelot and not a plump little sheep, and they were not in a warm green meadow….but in Arthur’s still dark chambers; the chill of winter having nearly consumed the spent embers in the hearth from last nights fire. Arthur slowly blinked open his eyes and turned his head towards the window….morning had not fully broken over the horizon, but it was close as the dim light of the pre-dawn was visible through the window.
Lancelot was still pressed to Arthur’s side exactly as he had been when they had fallen asleep late last night; one leg slung over the Roman’s and his breath blowing steady and warm over Arthur’s bare chest. A small smile tugged at the corner of the Roman’s mouth as he brought his free hand up to scrub over his stubbled jaw.
“What have you done to me, Lancelot ap Ban, that has me dreaming of sweetly green meadows and pleasantly plump livestock, hm?” Arthur half whispered with a voice rough from misuse. He then slid his hand beneath the furs covering them until his fingers located and splayed out over Lancelot’s hip. Certainly this man was no ‘sheep’. Arthur’s grin widened.
Current Location: In Arthur's Quarters