for iamthefirechild
Galahad wandered the streets of Camelot. He looked at each and every person around him, but no one paid him any extra attention. Unless they were the people that he accidentally walked into when he wasn’t looking where he was walking.
He did not know her name. He did not know what she looked like.
A person who could be a friend, but it seemed that he would never know her.
Eventually he just huffed and focused on where he was going. She would see him. He was sure of that. She knew where he lived and trained as a knight. She was probably watching right now.
The only thing he would be able to recognize was her penmanship.
She could feel the weight of magic across her shoulders like a too-heavy cloak. She was permitted to walk freely from sun-height to sun-set, so long as she refrained from mentioning certain topics to any folk she spoke to. She had no coins, so could not purchase anything, and anyway physical needs were all supplied by the Tower.
These days, though, none of that mattered, for she went always to the same place.
The fields where Arthur’s knights practised.
Even that was part of the noose around her, but she didn’t care. For as long as she was allowed she’d keep contact with Galahad. He wasn’t there yet today, but that was fine. She leaned on the fence, twisting a pale green stone between her fingers.