Covent Garden Sunshine || Closed
Nestled just off the famous Covent Garden, Will watched the crowds whirl by, wetting his palate with a lemonade from the Tuttons restaurant as he sat outside on their terrace. His spirits flitted cheerfully, enjoying the sunlight that so very rarely graced London as a vague smile danced on his lips. And he waited.
It wasn’t necessarily that his dining partner was late; he had merely arrived early intentionally, treasuring the time to allow the musings of his own mind. Truthfully, he so rarely had the chance to leave Oxford, to escape the university town, that even coming to the crowded Covent Garden was something of a relief. His eyes drifted lazily over the square, picking out one of the street performers who breathed a puff of fire at just that moment—as if to defy Will’s idea of relaxation—but he still felt at ease, in a detached, cheerfully-appreciating-the-sunlight-sort-of-way.
Besides, what was that saying he heard once? A wizard is neither late nor early, he arrives precisely when he means to. Well then.
Additionally, the outdoor setting gave him a very good vantage point to spot his dining partner when he did show up and if the man wished to move after that then so be it. The meet-up was as much to help the other decompress as much as it was for Will.
Ah, Arthur, Will thought, taking a sip of his lemonade, condensation long since coating the glass making his hand damp as he raised the glass to his lips. You were so young when we met…
Granted, Will had been much younger too, when he had traveled along with his master back to the Time of King Arthur and the Battle of Badon, granting that great king the Six Signs for the first great Rising. While his master had been at the King’s right hand, there on the king’s left had been a boy. He swirled his glass thoughtfully.
But then again, perhaps “young” wasn’t the right word, the person wasn’t quite young. After all, he had seen the Romans and the Celts, and countless others before them that called the island home. But perhaps this was one of the first times he began to think of himself as something united. Perhaps that was why he took the king’s name for himself; Will had never asked, but he had always assumed as much.
Feeling the weight of a certain pair of eyes, he refocused on his surroundings and smiled. Standing to his feet, chair pushing out behind him as he moved, he offered a hand to the person he had just been remembering. “Good to see you again, Arthur. I hope this isn’t too much trouble for you,” he said.
