The dag droned on in a wave of summer heat. The gras blew in the mildly cool breeze, insects chirping in the hum of the day. All was quiet and still, just how she liked it. She sat lazily on a bench, something her mother would have scolded her for so long ago. Her journal lay in her lap, pen moving quickly on the page. Her fingers slowed, then stopped. She sat up and shut the book. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a much older, worn leather book. The smell and touch took her back to hundreds of years ago. To a much simpler time, one filled with oncoming war and danger. And then she was back to last joy-filled day.
“Joan? Joan? Hello? Are u there?”
The voice calling to her called her from the parchment she read and to the beautiful face of her old time friend Guinevere.
“Guinevere. How long have u been there?”
A smile graced the girl's face, causing her beauty to blossom even more.
“I came in after the page left you. I take it things aren't great? u seemed rather lost in the news.”
“That girl is always lost,” a playful male voice chimed in from the doorway.
Joan smirked at her friend and seconde hand.
“I'm not lost when I kick u butt on the fields.”
He laughed then, something deep and warm while Guinevere shook her head like an amused mother.
“Honestly Lance. u had that coming.”
“So I did, my 'queen'. So I did.”
“Don't flatter me so. u know I have no such desires to be queen, nor any man's property.”
“Aye, that is true. And it shows with your dedication to your men and your training.”
“I heard news of what they've taken to calling you,” Guinevere added.
“And what is it they call me?”
“They call u Arthur of Camelot.”
She barked out a laugh at this and smiled.
“They call me a king for they know not who they fight. They call me Arthur for I seek peace. That is one I've never heard of.”
“It doesn't help that Lance is your knight. of that I'm...well...you know.”
“Aye. The Lord has many strange ways of acquiring His plan. But I serve with honor and without question. Now u two should go. We're due to head out again tomorrow and u may not see each other for a good while.”
She sat back down and looked at the parchment again, letting her two vrienden leave. When the door closed, she took out the book she used as a diary and began to write the conversation down.
Joan shook her thoughts away and tucked both boeken into the leather schooltas, satchel at her side. Picking it up, she began to stroll the paths, letting the memories flood through her for a good while. It was strange, to be here and having been there. She didn't know why she was here. Why she had been brought back. The thought of her dear friend Guinevere and her most loyal knight Lancelot brought tears to her eyes and a pain to her chest. But the wind dried her tears and the birds sang for her. She smiled as her step became lighter. She'd be faithful as always and maybe someday, she'd return to the past.
