It had been at least three days since Lucius had actually slept through the night. His mind was plagued with worry and thoughts of his brothers back in Carmarthen. He wanted so badly to find a quick solution to their problem – any solution actually – but so far, he’d been unsuccessful. Even though he received periodic letters from them explaining that they were alright for the time being and that their father hadn’t come after them – or at the very least he hadn’t found them yet, this didn’t make Lucius feel any better. But he’d long since run out of ideas and simply didn’t know what to do anymore.
Of course, the fact that Lucius had no close companions – or friends of any kind really – in Camelot was making things even more difficult. With no one to talk to about his problems, he spent his days brooding and miserable. He was beginning to get thoroughly frustrated, both with himself and with the entire situation.
Thus, wanting to talk to someone, anyone, and being unable to come up with any other options, Lucius had slowly made his way to the chapel. He was never an extremely religious man, but he’d been raised knowing the church and God – at least in some superficial sense. This was the last place he ever thought he’d go for help. Truthfully, he didn’t know what help could be found in this so-called house of God.
Having arrived at the chapel, Lucius and stopped just outside the door. Looking up, taking in the grand structure before him, he questioned what it was he hoped to find here. Honestly, he did not know, and he was starting to think it was a stupid idea. He should have just stayed in his room and tried to sleep. Hell, he should have just gone back to Carmarthen. They could try and figure out something together. But no. He’d promised he’d find a way to get them out of there, to bring them to Camelot where they could be safe with him. But how? How could he possibly do that?
Still standing outside, staring up at the church, trying to decide whether or not to go in, his mind was foggy. Lack of sleep and excessive stress will do that to you. Lost in his own mind, he hadn’t yet realised that he wasn’t alone.
((I hope you don't mind my replying! I read Lucius' bio and couldn't resist. ))
After having arrived in Camelot late the evening before, Bron hadn’t had much time or inclination to explore her surroundings. Her sole concerns had revolved around where her chambers were, how hot her bath water was and how soon she could crawl into bed. The eventful manner of her arrival had been taken as a bad omen by the good Bretons who had travelled with her from her homeland, and try though she had done to convince them that they were being silly, somewhere in the back of her mind Bron had her doubts as well. She had expected... well. She wasn’t quite sure what she had expected, but suffice it to say that being attacked on the highway had not been part of her fantasy of arriving at Camelot. What should have been a blissful slumber after almost a month of being denied an honest to goodness bed had instead been a fitful worry of dark dreams, so real that when she had woken with a start before dawn the princess felt that they could almost be premonitions.
Bron was frightened. She was so very far from home and the protection of her father, the King. She had skipped happily away from everything that she knew and was comforted by and straight into a world that was nothing like she was used to. The small group of people who had accompanied her did little to stem her concerns. They made signs against curses, and had gone to their lodgings whispering that they ought never to have come to such a troubled land in the first place. In the dark gloom of early morning, when it had become obvious to Bron that she wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep, she decided that she may as well get a head start on finding her feet here in Camelot. She could think of only one place where she might be able to find solace for her prickly thoughts. Unable to find a guard to accompany her only set her more on edge. With a look of determination on her face, Bron set out in the direction of the chapel.
Camelot was mostly still asleep. The fires of a forge glowed through shuttered windows as she passed the smithy and the scent of fresh bread backing wafted to her on the thin breeze that slipped through the city streets but aside from these two beacons of humanity it may as well have been a ghost town. The rest of the buildings were dark, shaded by the cool gaze of the moon that had only now begun to rise higher as it climbed its own stairs in search of rest for the day. Bron was just able to discern the tall peak of a steeple over the roofs of another row of buildings and walked in that direction, pulling her cloak more tightly about herself and keeping her footsteps light so as not to announce her presence. Rounding a corner the church came into full view. The girl stopped to admire the architecture for a moment – so different to Brittany! – and then saw the man standing in front of the building she wished to enter.
She took a deep breath. Passing him would make her vulnerable, but she needed to pay for clarity of mind and comfort for the people who had accompanied her on this journey. She reasoned that he did not know she was a princess, and that if she walked as quickly and as quietly as she could she would be inside before he could think to even look twice at her. Surely there would be some official or even a servant inside, keeping watch over the altar? Steeling herself to the action she was about to commit, Bron pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head and started off at a brisk trot. She glanced once at the man, just before she passed him, and quickened her pace once he was behind her as she made for the door. Her hand fumbled slightly on the door clasp before it jerked open and startled her. Pressing her lips closed in her desperation to be safe, the princess slipped through the door and pulled it closed behind her as an explosive breath of relief escaped her. She began to walk towards one of the pews, feeling more relaxed, before she noticed that she had been quite wrong about someone being inside to tend the altar.
The chapel was just as deserted as the rest of the town, except for her and the man outside.