Joan And Return Island: A Narrative Fiction
“Thank you, David,” said Joan, pulling the boy down toward her and embracing him.
He gave her a light, hesitant squeeze, then stood and ran off.
Joan and Carina stood and ran for Return Road as quickly as their feet would carry them. When the two arrived at the roadside, several dozen people stood there, all with anxious looks on their faces, waiting to learn the fate of their king. Dozens more people arrived, and before long, the crowd swelled to hundreds, then hundreds more. Grumbles of concern and impatience made their way through the crowd. Joan heard rumblings that perhaps the spotters were wrong, but right then, David raced down the center of the road, kicking up dust as he ran.
“They’re almost here!” he shouted.
Relief stole over …show more content…
the crowd and people chanted, “Long live the king! Long live the king!”
And while Joan was thrilled that the king had returned, she held her breath waiting for a glimpse of her husband. Moments later, there he was. Merlin rode out front, and Arthur was flanked by Gawain and Perceval. It hardly registered with Joan that the king looked as if he were sick and in pain. The young sovereign’s blonde hair stood on end, slick with sweat, his strapping body hunched over his horse.
But Joan had eyes only for her husband. And speaking of eyes, she noticed Perceval had two black eyes and a rather angry-looking burn on his left arm. Other than that, he appeared to be in excellent health. Joan was so relieved, her legs shook and she wondered if she might fall over.
But no one paid her any attention. People cheered, yelled, leapt up and down, and threw flowers at their sovereign. Shouts of, “Bless you, King Arthur!” and, “We love you, sire!” rang out.
The king raised his hand weakly and waved at his people, and the crowd erupted into cheers once again.
As the knights, Merlin, and the king drew closer to Joan’s location, Gawain caught her eye and nodded in acknowledgement. Gawain then leaned toward Perceval and muttered, but with all of the commotion, Joan could not discern what Gawain said.
However, Perceval’s head spun toward Joan and he clearly spotted her. He handed over his reins to Gawain and leapt off his horse. The crowd parted for him, clapping him on the back as he made his way to Joan. He reached her and the first thing he did was grab her face and cover her mouth with his own. The crowd went wild.
“I know you have to get the king to safety, but please tell me you’re all right,” said Joan, her eyes locked with her husband’s.
“I may look like awful and smell like a rotting fish, but truly, I’m fine. Just exhausted and filthy.” He placed one more gentle kiss on her lips. “Come up to our quarters when you can. I have to go through debriefing with the queen and Lionel, but as soon as that’s done and I’ve taken a bath, I’ll come to you straight away.”
She nodded and watched him mount Aethon and ride for the castle.
Joan waited until he was out of sight before she broke down and sobbed with relief. Carina collected Joan into her arms.
“Are you all right, Joan?” called out a woman’s voice, but Joan could not stop her sobs, so Carina answered for her.
“She’s fine, all,” Carina called out. “Joan and Perceval married the night before the men left. She’s a new bride!”
People shouted their congratulations and showered Joan with hugs and kisses: friends, neighbors, tavern patrons, even strangers expressed their delight. The lively group escorted Joan back to her home so she could grab a few belongings before going up to her new home at the castle.
Joan made it to her door and turned to thank everyone, including Carina, then entered the cottage. Her shoulders slumped with relief. It was nice to be inside of her quiet home for a few moments, but she recognized this was now her old home. The prospect of moving into the castle was both nerve-wracking and exciting, and the nerves made her feel nauseated. She ignored the ill feeling, brushing it off as excitement, and rushed up the stairs to the loft. She packed a few essentials into her sack; anything else could be brought up at a different time.
When she slung her sack over her shoulder, she paused and tried to think if she was forgetting anything important. Her eyes scanned the sleeping loft and stopped at the menstrual padding tucked away in a crate beneath her night table. She should have needed it three or four days ago. However, for the moment, she’d keep this information to herself, since her courses could be late due to all the recent stress.
Joan took a deep breath, then ambled down from the loft and head out the front door toward her new home, the castle.
However, the moment she stepped outside, she came face to face with her father and jumped.
“Father! You scared me. What are you doing just standing there?”
He peered down at his feet. “I don’t know… I didn’t want to see you packing, I s’pose.” Will glanced up. “Can I at least walk you up to the castle?”
“I would love it.”
Will took Joan’s sack, and the two wandered toward the path.
“Even with my apprenticeship, I’ll still work at the tavern twice each week,” Joan reminded Will. “And we live so close! You’ll have meals at the castle with me sometimes, won’t you?”
“I’d like that.”
The two arrived at the castle’s main entrance. Will handed over the bag and patted Joan’s cheek.
“Well, my wed daughter, I’ll see you at work the day after tomorrow.”
“You shall.”
She turned to walk away.
“Wait!” Will called out, and Joan spun around to face him. “I’m very proud of you. That’s all.”
“Thank you, Father. That means a lot.”
Joan then approached the castle guard and announced herself. “I’m Joan Port. Gales! I mean I’m Joan Gales, Sir Perceval’s wife.”
“Do you have a marriage contract as proof?” asked the …show more content…
guard.
Joan’s face fell. They’d left the contract in Perceval’s chambers. “No, but if you want to accompany me inside I can retrieve it for you…”
At the top of the entry stairs, Gawain appeared.
“Erec, that’s Perceval’s wife,” he called down. “I can vouch for her.”
“Sorry,” said Sir Erec to Joan. “Can’t be too careful these days, you know. Go on in.”
“I understand,” she said with a smile. “Good to meet you, Sir Erec.”
“Likewise,” he responded with a nod.
Joan ascended the entryway steps and met up with Gawain. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
“How are you?” she asked.
“Good! But there’s so much to tell. I’ll leave that up to Perceval.”
Gawain escorted Joan to her new chambers and wished her well.
“I’m off to collapse into bed for at least a week,” he teased. “But not before a tall tankard of ale. Man, how I missed ale.”
Gawain wandered to his own quarters down the hallway, while Joan entered her (new) chamber and sat on the bed, unsure of what else to do. To pass the time, she withdrew the thick book on herbology from her sack and planned to read it. She lay back and propped the book on her chest, but was so exhausted, she dozed off within moments.
Chapter 20 – Settling In
Several hours later, Perceval wandered into his chambers, rubbing his hands over his freshly-shaven face. If felt so good to not have grime and travel dirt caked in his whiskers. And that steaming hot bath had been the best he’d ever taken. After larger confrontations, the castle maids always drew the knights fresh baths in the Great Hall. And at that point, the men were so used to dressing, undressing, and bathing in front of one another, no one gave a good damn about nudity – a soothing, relaxing bath mattered more than
anything.
Perceval’s quarters were dim – the last few candles sputtered out – so it was difficult for him to make out shapes in the dark, but he squinted and saw Joan’s form in his bed, their bed now. He stepped closer with light steps and took in her reclining form. She lay on top of the covers and was fully dressed, a large tome propped open on her chest, her breaths slow and even. She slept peacefully, and Perceval was grateful for that. It was hard to imagine how difficult the last ten days had been for her.
Noiselessly, Perceval stripped down to his underclothes and slipped into bed next to his wife. He did his best to enter the bed with minimal disruption, because Joan had confessed she was a light sleeper; however, she didn’t stir.
Before settling back into his pillow, Perceval gazed at Joan’s serene face and sighed with relief. He’d returned home safely, King Arthur would recover in time, and the love of his life rested peacefully in bed.
A man could ask for nothing more.
He gave her a light, hesitant squeeze, then stood and ran off.
Joan and Carina stood and ran for Return Road as quickly as their feet would carry them. When the two arrived at the roadside, several dozen people stood there, all with anxious looks on their faces, waiting to learn the fate of their king. Dozens more people arrived, and before long, the crowd swelled to hundreds, then hundreds more. Grumbles of concern and impatience made their way through the crowd. Joan heard rumblings that perhaps the spotters were wrong, but right then, David raced down the center of the road, kicking up dust as he ran.
“They’re almost here!” he shouted.
Relief stole over …show more content…
the crowd and people chanted, “Long live the king! Long live the king!”
And while Joan was thrilled that the king had returned, she held her breath waiting for a glimpse of her husband. Moments later, there he was. Merlin rode out front, and Arthur was flanked by Gawain and Perceval. It hardly registered with Joan that the king looked as if he were sick and in pain. The young sovereign’s blonde hair stood on end, slick with sweat, his strapping body hunched over his horse.
But Joan had eyes only for her husband. And speaking of eyes, she noticed Perceval had two black eyes and a rather angry-looking burn on his left arm. Other than that, he appeared to be in excellent health. Joan was so relieved, her legs shook and she wondered if she might fall over.
But no one paid her any attention. People cheered, yelled, leapt up and down, and threw flowers at their sovereign. Shouts of, “Bless you, King Arthur!” and, “We love you, sire!” rang out.
The king raised his hand weakly and waved at his people, and the crowd erupted into cheers once again.
As the knights, Merlin, and the king drew closer to Joan’s location, Gawain caught her eye and nodded in acknowledgement. Gawain then leaned toward Perceval and muttered, but with all of the commotion, Joan could not discern what Gawain said.
However, Perceval’s head spun toward Joan and he clearly spotted her. He handed over his reins to Gawain and leapt off his horse. The crowd parted for him, clapping him on the back as he made his way to Joan. He reached her and the first thing he did was grab her face and cover her mouth with his own. The crowd went wild.
“I know you have to get the king to safety, but please tell me you’re all right,” said Joan, her eyes locked with her husband’s.
“I may look like awful and smell like a rotting fish, but truly, I’m fine. Just exhausted and filthy.” He placed one more gentle kiss on her lips. “Come up to our quarters when you can. I have to go through debriefing with the queen and Lionel, but as soon as that’s done and I’ve taken a bath, I’ll come to you straight away.”
She nodded and watched him mount Aethon and ride for the castle.
Joan waited until he was out of sight before she broke down and sobbed with relief. Carina collected Joan into her arms.
“Are you all right, Joan?” called out a woman’s voice, but Joan could not stop her sobs, so Carina answered for her.
“She’s fine, all,” Carina called out. “Joan and Perceval married the night before the men left. She’s a new bride!”
People shouted their congratulations and showered Joan with hugs and kisses: friends, neighbors, tavern patrons, even strangers expressed their delight. The lively group escorted Joan back to her home so she could grab a few belongings before going up to her new home at the castle.
Joan made it to her door and turned to thank everyone, including Carina, then entered the cottage. Her shoulders slumped with relief. It was nice to be inside of her quiet home for a few moments, but she recognized this was now her old home. The prospect of moving into the castle was both nerve-wracking and exciting, and the nerves made her feel nauseated. She ignored the ill feeling, brushing it off as excitement, and rushed up the stairs to the loft. She packed a few essentials into her sack; anything else could be brought up at a different time.
When she slung her sack over her shoulder, she paused and tried to think if she was forgetting anything important. Her eyes scanned the sleeping loft and stopped at the menstrual padding tucked away in a crate beneath her night table. She should have needed it three or four days ago. However, for the moment, she’d keep this information to herself, since her courses could be late due to all the recent stress.
Joan took a deep breath, then ambled down from the loft and head out the front door toward her new home, the castle.
However, the moment she stepped outside, she came face to face with her father and jumped.
“Father! You scared me. What are you doing just standing there?”
He peered down at his feet. “I don’t know… I didn’t want to see you packing, I s’pose.” Will glanced up. “Can I at least walk you up to the castle?”
“I would love it.”
Will took Joan’s sack, and the two wandered toward the path.
“Even with my apprenticeship, I’ll still work at the tavern twice each week,” Joan reminded Will. “And we live so close! You’ll have meals at the castle with me sometimes, won’t you?”
“I’d like that.”
The two arrived at the castle’s main entrance. Will handed over the bag and patted Joan’s cheek.
“Well, my wed daughter, I’ll see you at work the day after tomorrow.”
“You shall.”
She turned to walk away.
“Wait!” Will called out, and Joan spun around to face him. “I’m very proud of you. That’s all.”
“Thank you, Father. That means a lot.”
Joan then approached the castle guard and announced herself. “I’m Joan Port. Gales! I mean I’m Joan Gales, Sir Perceval’s wife.”
“Do you have a marriage contract as proof?” asked the …show more content…
guard.
Joan’s face fell. They’d left the contract in Perceval’s chambers. “No, but if you want to accompany me inside I can retrieve it for you…”
At the top of the entry stairs, Gawain appeared.
“Erec, that’s Perceval’s wife,” he called down. “I can vouch for her.”
“Sorry,” said Sir Erec to Joan. “Can’t be too careful these days, you know. Go on in.”
“I understand,” she said with a smile. “Good to meet you, Sir Erec.”
“Likewise,” he responded with a nod.
Joan ascended the entryway steps and met up with Gawain. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
“How are you?” she asked.
“Good! But there’s so much to tell. I’ll leave that up to Perceval.”
Gawain escorted Joan to her new chambers and wished her well.
“I’m off to collapse into bed for at least a week,” he teased. “But not before a tall tankard of ale. Man, how I missed ale.”
Gawain wandered to his own quarters down the hallway, while Joan entered her (new) chamber and sat on the bed, unsure of what else to do. To pass the time, she withdrew the thick book on herbology from her sack and planned to read it. She lay back and propped the book on her chest, but was so exhausted, she dozed off within moments.
Chapter 20 – Settling In
Several hours later, Perceval wandered into his chambers, rubbing his hands over his freshly-shaven face. If felt so good to not have grime and travel dirt caked in his whiskers. And that steaming hot bath had been the best he’d ever taken. After larger confrontations, the castle maids always drew the knights fresh baths in the Great Hall. And at that point, the men were so used to dressing, undressing, and bathing in front of one another, no one gave a good damn about nudity – a soothing, relaxing bath mattered more than
anything.
Perceval’s quarters were dim – the last few candles sputtered out – so it was difficult for him to make out shapes in the dark, but he squinted and saw Joan’s form in his bed, their bed now. He stepped closer with light steps and took in her reclining form. She lay on top of the covers and was fully dressed, a large tome propped open on her chest, her breaths slow and even. She slept peacefully, and Perceval was grateful for that. It was hard to imagine how difficult the last ten days had been for her.
Noiselessly, Perceval stripped down to his underclothes and slipped into bed next to his wife. He did his best to enter the bed with minimal disruption, because Joan had confessed she was a light sleeper; however, she didn’t stir.
Before settling back into his pillow, Perceval gazed at Joan’s serene face and sighed with relief. He’d returned home safely, King Arthur would recover in time, and the love of his life rested peacefully in bed.
A man could ask for nothing more.