Standing next to his bed, he placed the instrument under his chin and plucked a couple strings. He smiled sweetly at John and lay the bow to the strings. Drawing the bow across the strings he brought forth a melancholy melody, so sweet as to make the eyes tear up. He closed his eyes and started slowly moving about the room, eventually walking toward John. As he played, his body bent to and fro, swayed gently, or twisted slowly as if Locke were dancing a waltz. John's mouth dropped open and he stared at Locke with genuine awe. With long strokes, Locke carried the song to its soaring conclusion, and eyes still closed, stood by John's bed, breathing hard, his violin still under his chin.

Awestruck, John whispered, "That was beautiful... Sherlock. I've never heard anything so wonderful." Locke opened his eyes, smiled a quick little smile and dropped his arms to his sides, still holding his instrument and bow. Lowering his head he was humbled to be praised by this young prince whom he loved so much. (My sweet prince...)

"Thank you, Johnny. I am so pleased that you like..." He was nearly knocked down as John slammed into him, throwing his arms around his middle and hugging him hard.

"Sherlock, you are perfect..." Locke reached out to lay his violin on a wooden chest and throwing the bow to his bed, slowly wrapped his arms around John. He lay his cheek on John's silky blond hair and blinked rapidly to stem the tide of tears he felt coming. John leaned back so he could look at Locke's eyes. "Will you play for me at bedtimes? That sounded so... so heavenly ."

"Of course, My Sweet Prince, I would be very much pleased to." Locke nuzzled John's hair and loosened his hold a little. "And, now, you have put it off long enough. We must go." John knew he was teasing and much pleased himself, beamed a huge smile at Locke.

As John changed into his riding boots, Locke made John's bed, and picked up a few odds and ends that had managed to make it to the floor. Rummaging in John's less-than-organized chest-of-drawers, he found John's riding gloves. John watched off and on and ruminated on how much his "guardian" actually did for him. He almost felt guilty... almost.

Astride a huge white stallion he called Yeti, Locke was a commanding presence. His red and blue uniform, velvet top hat, soft black lambskin riding gloves, and gleaming black knee-high boots made him the most beautiful thing that John had ever seen. He glanced sideways as they rode, and observed how other people reacted to his Sherlock. The man could not be ignored. Men shook their heads, boys rode imaginary horses in circles, and women and girls... Women's and girl's eyes smoldered and they flounced their skirts and winked at Locke. Locke didn't notice. His sole attention was on John, a soft smile on his face.

As they left the castle's confines, Locke touched his crop to Yeti's flank, and the giant horse leaped forward into a moderate gait, not quite a gallop, but fast. John felt like he was plodding along on a mule, riding with this man, and tried to catch up. John was riding his mother's mare, Persephone, and the pretty little horse seemed to have a thing for Yeti, prancing and tossing her head whenever she managed to pull alongside him.

In a wildflower field, Locke slowed the pace and pulled close to John. He reached across, took John's gloved fingers in his lambskin-covered hand and rode close, holding John's hand for several minutes. John had never felt so protected, or safe, or so loved. Even as a child, walking with his mother, he hadn't felt so... so thrilled.

They rode for nearly two hours over field and hill and dale, testing their horses mettle and exhausting themselves. Turning back, both of them felt a melancholy regret that their adventure was over. They arrived back at the castle in time for the evening meal with John's parents, and Locke encouraged him to attend and be on his best behavior. (...Having learned one of John's motivators, he used it...) "Maybe we can show them that you don't need a wife to temper your proclivities." Locke bounced his brows.

"Lovely thought, but don't think I can pull it off," John mourned. He actually took a couple moments to put on a clean doublet, brushed his hair and presented himself to Locke for inspection. He was pulling on the hem of his doublet to get the shoulders to fit better. Locke eyed John up and down, adjusted the shoulder's lay, and brushed his hand down the front of the fabric to smooth out the line. His hand moved over John's slightly burgeoning manhood, causing both of them to freeze. (...John realized that the "burgeoning" was the result of a "funny feeling" from just gazing at Locke's face...)

Locke stood up quickly and pulled down his own uniform jacket trying to disguise his awkward recognition of what he had felt. (...and a similar situation of his own after having "felt...") John turned a bright pink and made a quick march to the door. He stood there waiting for Locke to hold the door for him. (...John hadn't thought that he would have enjoyed Locke's touch so much... but he did...)

Locke strode stiffly forward, opened the door and bowed slightly as John exited. There followed an uncomfortable silence on what seemed a forever-long walk to the dining hall. By the time that they had entered the hall, they had managed to find their easy camaraderie again, smiling at each other.

John's father, the king, greeted him gruffly, "So nice of you to deign to join us this evening." (John bowed deeply to his father and sneaked a smile at Locke from his almost upside down position. Locke stood stiffly and pretended not to notice. When John was standing straight again, Locke "accidentally" hooked his pinkie finger into John's for half-a-mo'.)

John's mother, the queen, saw the quick exchange and was very pleased that her lonely son had made a friend. The king would sit at the head of the table, his Personal Guardian seating himself to his majesty's left. The Captain of the Guard was to sit on his right. No one could sit until King Eric was sitting. The king sat.

"John, sweetheart, it is good to see you tonight." The beautiful queen beamed a warm smile at her son and seated herself, her Personal Guardian, holding Her Highness's chair for her, promptly seating himself to her left. Queen Alicia charted the table's make-up. Her husband's Chamberlain, a weaselly little man, sat next to her on her right. Her First Lady in Waiting to his right, and her Second just beyond Her Majesty's Personal Guard. (...The queen observed that the little second was blushing furiously with downcast eyes. She was very smitten with the queen's guardian, and was waiting for the idiot to notice her...) The queen's brows rose.

John's new guard, (..."Sherlock," she believed his name was...) was next, with her sweet son, John, (...who would be incensed to be assessed as such...) in the middle of the table. John's uncle's guard and his uncle, Tomas, (...her husband's brother...) finished the seats on her right. On her left beyond her Second, sat the Queen's younger sister's guard, then her sister, Princess Denisa, (...she smiled softly at her sister's crush on the Captain of the Guard...) her mother's guard, the two royal ladies' Mother, and said Captain.

She had heard that the Guard Captain didn't like her son's Personal Guardian. It was said he was jealous of the boy's great accomplishments. She needs must put a bug in her husband's ear. She didn't want dissension in the ranks to result in John being put in the middle of something sinister or hurtful. (...Locke watched a series of expressions cross the queen's face as she eyed the table's complement. She's surmising everyone's motives... His experience with royals was that they took a general disinterest in anyone but themselves... How novel...)

Her survey of the table reminded her that John's birthday was in a few days. There would be a big to-do and royal visitors from three other kingdoms. Not that such a thing was sinister or hurtful, but John was disconsolate about having to court one the neighboring princesses. Perhaps her husband would give John a year or even a few month's reprieve. She would consult with him tonight, when he was his most amenable... in bed.

As the meal progressed, King Eric brought up the birthday celebration, and that John would have company that he would be expected to entertain. John blanched and was about to blow up and probably anger his father. Her majesty intervened. "John, honey, have you thought how you will entertain the youngsters that are coming to meet you?" John sent a blank look her way and started to make an inappropriate remark.

Locke placed his hand on John's under the table. John's hand was clenched into a trembling fist. Locking eyes with Queen Alicia, Locke began, "If I may, Your Highness..." He pushed his hand into John's and forcing John's hand to relax, intertwined his fingers among John's. The queen said, "Certainly, Sherlock." Holding John's hand, Locke continued, "My Prince and I have discussed his choices, my having apprehensions based on the security arrangements that his visitors may require."

The King nodded his head sagely at his Personal Guardian and the Captain. The Captain nearly smirked, but just wrinkled his brow as if considering Locke's proposal. Locke went on, "The Prince has decided that a small tea party on the parapet, where the visitors can best view the loveliness that is Watson Hold, would be most appropriate. After the light luncheon, he thought that he would escort everyone on a gentle ride through the wildflower fields." He turned to face the king. "Prince John felt that this would best impress the ladies. If they do not ride, they can be seated comfortably in your majesty's open carriage..." He turned back to the queen. "...with your permission, of course ma'am. If there is still time, and the ladies are interested, he was thinking of an archery exhibit."

Locke, nodding his head encouragingly, looked at John, and squeezed John's hand hard to get him to nod as if these were his decisions. John caught on quickly (...Good boy!...) and nodded to both ends of the table. Locke added, "If the ladies are not averse, and their guards are not afraid, (...He paused and glanced at all his fellow guards, who smirked and nodded knowingly...) he wanted to suggest an archery competition. For this he knew he would need your permission, sire." He directed those remarks to the king.

"My son, the competition is a wonderful idea. I believe that we can accommodate all your ideas." Locke squeezed his hand again.

"May I develop the plans for these, uh... events then, Father?"

"Certainly, my son. I'm proud of your forethought in this. Tomorrow, attend me in the map room at 10:00, and we'll get all the details firmed up." John smiled and nodded enthusiastically. The king stood, signifying the end of the meal. John received a bunch of congratulations from the various relatives at table. He sought Locke's eyes over their heads and gave him a very grateful smile. After a couple minutes, the boys made their escape.