A/N: Drabble challenge for the Bards of Prydain. First entry.

Title: Presage

Prompt: Fflewddur and Adaon meet for the first time.

Keyword: broken

Words: 574

Characters: Fflewddur and Adaon

Disclaimer: I do not own the Prydain Chronicles.

All over the slopes surrounding the bardic hall, branches were swelling with buds. The tall, lanky man followed his long nose away from the books and parchments that made his eyes burn and his brain ache. A spring breeze enticed him down a path out of sight of the main windows, where he flung himself down upon the grass under warm sunlight.

Winter had been long and cold, and Fflewddur Fflam had spent much of it indoors, bent over dusty books. Books he was still supposed to be studying in preparation for one of the many exams later that evening. The former king sighed. Yes. In a moment he would return to his studies. In just a moment.

His eyes closed.

Much later, he was awakened by a shadow falling across his face. Blinking, he struggled to his feet, and shot a panicked glance at the sun approaching the horizon. He eyed the black-haired stranger approaching.

The young man's face was kindly. "Surely, you have not forgotten the poetry exam which is even now being held in the main hall," he said in a voice that was as resonant and clear as if he were singing. The voice of a natural bard.

Fflewddur ran a hand through his spiky hair and a shower of dried leaves fell from his fingers. "Of course not," he said. His own voice sounded rather thin and scratchy. "It's just that I, uh, looked out the window and thought I saw a messenger riding in, bearing the standard of my kingdom. Surely, thought I, they would not send a courier unless some dire threat menaced my realm. At once I rushed out to meet him, thinking only of my duty to my subjects." He began to warm to his tale, waving his arms and jutting out his chin proudly. "Then, once out here, I, uh…"

He stopped. The man's lips were curving into a faint smile. "You must be Fflewddur Fflam, son of Godo," he said. "Well met. I am Adaon, son of Taliesin."

Fflewddur's jaw dropped. "Son of the Chief Bard? Well, I…" A flush suffused his face. "I'm honored to meet you, sir."

"Shall we look for your courier together?"

"Uh, to tell the truth," admitted Fflewddur, clearing his throat, "there really wasn't any courier. I saw the sun come out from behind the clouds, and the fields looked so beautiful…"

"And the poetry in your soul overwhelmed the poetry in the old books," said Adaon with a nod of understanding.

"In all honesty, I fell asleep in the sun," confessed Fflewddur. He peered at the younger man, expecting a well-deserved rebuke.

But Adaon paused for a moment, his hand on a curiously-shaped clasp at his throat. His clear grey eyes faltered.

"What is it?" asked Fflewddur. "Are you well?"

The other man shook his head. "It is nothing," he said. "I merely imagined for a moment I heard a woman weeping as though broken-hearted." He smiled at the taller man. "I, too, have flights of fancy when my mind yearns to be free of studying. Let us return to the hall together, my friend, and I will show you a trick to remember the verse we read today. It will make your task much easier."

As they walked back to the hall, the sun slipped below the hills and the sky turned pale as bone.