Terence led his wife down the hall towards his brother’s room, shaking his head slightly as he glanced out the window towards the garden. The queen had it planned and executed to the last detail— of course, if Bedivere had been the one to try to design it, it would be anything but that.

“He’s probably not even up yet,” he told his wife.

“You don’t know that,” Lynette chastised him. “For all you know he could be asking himself why he’s still waiting for us. I know I would.” She smoothed her green skirts, ignoring the ironic arch to her husband’s eyebrow. Finally, Terence reached over and brushed the brunette lock that had disentangled itself from the rest of her braid out of her face, near laughing. She guessed his comment— that Bedivere was well aware of how long it took most court ladies to get dressed— and cut him off before he could open his mouth. “Come on, we’re late.”

Terence laughed in earnest as his wife swept off and followed her, still laughing, down the hall. “It’s not even dawn,” he pointed out, chasing after her. Indeed, he could hardly see her features in the torches that lined the hall and the false dawn coming through the small windows. “I don’t think Bedivere’s been up before dawn since he got his degree.”

“He’s odd even for a mage, I agree, but this isn’t the first hunting party he's been insince he graduated,” Lynette answered. “Come on; he’s probably wondering if we intended to leave without him.”

“Even if we did, he’d probably just laugh and go back to bed,” Terence announced, reaching out to slow her down. He was taller than his wife by half a foot, black-haired and black-eyed to her brunette and blue, but moved with less energy and more deliberation.

“I’d rather not find out the truth of that,” she announced.

“I don’t even know why he agreed to go hunting, court parties are more his thing,” Terence continued as he continued to follow Lynette down the hall. “Any place he can show of his illusions.”

“Well, you must admit they are quite good.”

“But what use are they?” Terence demanded. “What use is he, come to think about it? Illusions are nothing like healing or war magic. They don’t do anything, they don’t change anything—”

“Just because you chose to become a knight does not mean he can’t make a difference in something different,” his wife reminded him irritably. “And just because illusion doesn’t do any of those things doesn’t mean its not useful. It makes a pretty fix to a damaged wall before it can be repaired, or it hides things in plain view. You know it. You just don’t want to admit it.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Even so, he’s more likely to scare the fox than the hounds are.” The knight paused at the door to Bedivere’s rooms, glaring at them and opening it. Ushering his wife in, he added, “He’s not up yet.”

“Then go in and wake him up,” Lynette suggested.

“And if he curses me?” Terence demanded sensibly, well aware of his brother’s temper.

“Then we’ll leave without the both of you,” Lynette answered wickedly. “Unless of course he chooses to reverse his spell when he realizes it’s only you. I wouldn’t blame him overmuch if he didn’t.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll wake him up,” Terence grumbled, opening the door to Bedivere’s bedroom and slipping in. “If you’re hunting with us, Bedivere,” he announced, “then you’d better have one hell of a way to dress fast.”

From the other side of the door, Lynette heard her brother-in-law mutter something that sounded rather like it started with “Milady”.

Terence outright laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one uglier.”

Lynette growled something in indignation. She might have tolerated it should it have come out of Bedivere’s mouth, but she fully expected her husband to have better manners.

“Well, I don’t really think it’s your place to say, really,” Bedivere replied. “Especially not since she’s not awake to defend herself. And if you really think she’s that ugly,” he added, and Lynette could only picture the grin on Bedivere’s face, “then she needs her beauty rest more than she needs you to wake her up and tell her.”

Terence snorted. “Beauty rest indeed.”

“Leave my girls alone, will you?” Bedivere asked mildly. “Milady especially. She’s in whelp, so she may bite your head off. Quite literally.”

Well, then, he’d better be announcing an engagement, Lynette thought. Even Bedivere couldn’t shirk it after he’d gotten a woman with child, and Terence would have to shut up about this lady’s looks if she became his sister-in-law. She waited for Terence to emerge from the other side of the door.

“So Milady is a bitch?” Terence asked. “I was beginning to wonder, with your sense of humor.” Lynette puffed up more indignantly still. She would have expected a little more manners.

“Well, yeah.”

Lynette pushed open the door to tell both of them off after that. The two men stared at her entrance, glanced at each other, and started to laugh. Lynette went beet red and smiled apologetically.

Between Bedivere and the side of his bed lay a snoring, russet foxhound, covered in battle scars and with a belly swollen with pups.

---

Author’s Note: How old IS that punch line? Sorry, had to write it, my humor writing has been too nonexistent lately. And I haven’t posted anything in several weeks. . . . So, how badly was the corny joke delivered? Cheers! — Loki