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[most_generous]

[From hereLancelot, Cavall, golden Guinevere, and the sea of moonlight around their white-sailed craft fade from the sight of Arthur, king of the Summer Country. Bells chime out of nowhere, low and high and triumphant, and then Arthur Pendragon stands on the shore of his own country. On a hill before him, the silver-circled castle is silhouetted

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[theravenboy]

Three days and two nights ago, Bran raised Eirias from its place in his father's chambers. On that day, the power of the Summer Country recognised him as full regent and heir, and the spells that had been growing more and more burdensome became all at once easy to carry.

Bran has been wondering, since that morning, whether he would need to become King of the Summer Country in truth. If Arthur died, in Fionavar, and could not return, Bran might not see either of his fathers again.

Bran doesn't share the worry with his mother. Instead, after supper, he sits in Guinevere's chambers and plays harp duets with her. After his day, monitoring the defence of the castle, and hers, sewing bandages and preparing medicines with the women, music relaxes and refreshes them both.

In the middle of the third song, Bran's fingers jerk on the harpstrings. "Mother!" he says, forgetting about the song entirely. "He's come home!" He sets the harp down, buckles Eirias to his waist again, and leads Guinevere down to the shore, stopping only to tell Glyndwr and his men to open the castle gates for the returning king.

[merrimanlyon]

Even with the changes wrought in Bran Davies by the raising of Eirias, the Old Ones still have a need to keep the magic of the land within controllable limits. Bran may be the regent and heir, but it is still a temporary arrangement -- must be a temporary arrangement, if the rightful king is to return one day.

The changing of the watch takes place at sundown, passing the greater part of the burden on to those who will keep awake during the hours of the night. Merlion and Will are amongst those who are free to rest, take refreshment, and sleep if they choose to do so. In the morning, their hours of watch will begin again.

They have almost developed a routine for it by this point -- which is why the sudden and unexpected shift in the land's magic comes as a shock.

The Old Ones stagger, as if the stone floors had abruptly bucked and shuddered beneath their feet. Once they have regained their footing, steadied their balance, the difference is immediately noticeable. The weight of the magic -- the weight that had been pressing upon them all this time -- is no longer there.

In the length of time that it takes for the Old Ones to register and process this change, both Merlion and Will have vanished.

They, too, are headed for the shore.

[sign_seeker]

The weight of the spells they have been balancing all this long time is gone, effortlessly back in its own true balance around the king. It's like surfacing from underwater and remembering how to breathe air; everything is lighter, easier, almost effortless.

Will's taller than he once was, but he still has to half-trot through the corridors to keep up with Merriman's long rapid strides. He doesn't care. Both their minds are fixed on the shore, and the man waiting there.

They slow only when the group at the shoreline is in sight: Bran, slim and straight, Eirias at his hip and white hair gilded flame-orange by the setting sun. Guinevere, dark hair tumbling down her back and hands laced together before her. And Arthur, king and Lord of the High Magic and the Light, with his weathered face sober and the old air of command like a cloak visible around him.

[most_generous]

Before he greets Merlion and the Sign-Seeker, even before he speaks to Guinevere (the dark one; the fair is lost to him, now), Arthur has a duty to his land, and to its regent.

He has noted the sword gleaming on Bran's belt, and the arrogant ease with which Bran stands. Bran surrendered Eirias, and all claim to the Country, long ago, and yet -- Bran has been ruling for quite a while, now, and history offers few examples of sons transferring power to their fathers in peace.

"Bran ap Arthur, is all well in this kingdom?"

[theravenboy]

"All is well." Bran unbuckles the swordbelt and offers it, sword, scabbard and all, to his father. "Welcome home."

Bran looks at the fair shore, and the ship anchored before it; at Guinevere eyes flicking back and forth between her lord and her son; at the Old Ones, witnessing the conversation and awaiting their turns to greet Arthur.

The Summer Country, with its castle and its fields, its beaches and its woods, its heroes and its ladies, needed Bran's service, but it has never been Bran's home. Now that Arthur has returned, it will never have to be.

Bran turns back to his father. "My name is Bran Davies, my lord," he says clearly.

[merrimanlyon]

The constant pressure of the land's magic is no longer in the back of his mind, and the odd sensation of detached weightlessness that accompanies its absence is enough to make Merlion feel somewhat light-headed.

It is this feeling, perhaps, that makes him blink quickly, watching the scene before him.

[most_generous]

Arthur buckles Eirias around his own hip. The young man before him, standing tall and grave in the growing shadows, is one any father might be proud to claim as his own.

Arthur claps Bran on the shoulder, smiling. "Then, Bran Davies, thank you for your service to my land. Give my regards to your father, when you return to Clwyd."

[theravenboy]

Bran's smile has as much relief in it as joy. "I will," he says.

[most_generous]

To Merlion and Will, the king says, "Thank you for keeping the watch for me."

[merrimanlyon]

It is very nearly too much, all at once.

He has the presence of mind to bow his head in due deference to Arthur's thanks, but at this point he is still beyond words.

[most_generous]

"You're very quiet tonight, lion," observes the king. "May I ask whether you've gotten a full night of sleep since I left?"

[merrimanlyon]

Merlion's mouth twitches, involuntarily.

After what appears to be a moment's careful thought, he gives the king a small nod and replies:

'You may, my lord. And on balance, my most truthful answer would likely be "perhaps once or twice, despite all my attempts to the contrary".'

[most_generous]

"You do not surprise me," answers Arthur drily. "Is there anything urgent to report immediately, or shall I command you all to find your respective beds and stay there until morning?"

His gaze flickers oddly past Guinevere, stopping on Bran and Will. "Or, of course, your respective homes."

[mother_lost]

*Guinevere shifts her gaze, slightly, to Bran and then Merlion.

As anxious as she is to see Bran rested, and to find out if all is well with Arthur -- things have not been quiet in the Summer Country, and he should know.

But it is not, precisely, her place to tell it.*

[most_generous]

Bran speaks of Galadan, and of preparing the castle for a siege. Arthur watches his son, tall and assured, explain the plans he made for the protection of the Summer Country.

What a king he would have been.

"Very good work, Bran Davies." Bran blushes red, nods, and straightens again in justified pride.

They walk, all five of them, back to the castle. Bran and Will have things to collect and farewells to make.

When Bran, Will and Moiraine go home at last, Arthur is there to see them off. "Fortune guard you," he says as the door closes, and then Arthur turns his face to his own kingdom.