They returned from their walk and Janet asked how Timothy had been. Vivian said he had been testy for awhile but after she had fed him, he had calmed down and had been quiet ever since. Janet asked what she had given him and Vivian told her she fed him. Janet raised her eyebrows at this news and asked why she had done that. She replied that he had been very fussy and kept staring at her teats while she nursed her baby, Faye. There was more milk that Faye could drink and Timothy was obviously hungry, so why not? It hadn’t hurt him and he had been a sweet baby ever since.

Janet looked at him, sitting in the playpen with a sunny smile and sucking his thumb. He giggled brightly and waved his arm at the tv. He certainly looked okay and he was giggling! She felt relieved, sat down on the sofa and talked to Vivian about her herb garden.

Timothy saw some birds on the patio and grew excited. He laughed and prattled, pointing to them. Janet gave him a surprised glance, “He hasn’t tried to talk since I regressed him. I wonder what’s gotten into him?”, she thought.

Timothy babbled gaily. He blathered and jabbered silly baby sounds without communicating anything but his joy. She smiled indulgently at him, he was childishly enchanted by the noises he was making and obviously pleased with himself. She felt vaguely disquieted by the sudden change in his behavior. She would probe him later this evening, she decided, and noticed it was getting late.

She thanked Vivian for taking care of Timothy. Janet exchanged phone numbers with Ancel and she said her goodbyes, thanked Vivian for the herbs, picked up Timothy, the diaper bag, her purse, and herb basket and left for home.

The drive home from Vivian’s house was a jubilant one for Janet. She and Ancel had gotten along famously together, their personalities meshed perfectly. Ancel was also a witch and that alone made it easy to talk to him. They had read and enjoyed the same books. They liked the same music. They were simpatico. She had flirted with Ancel a little and told him he must be quite a ladies man if he had the name Fonsie like the tv character. He became grave and informed her that his last name was Fonsee, a German name that had been originally spelled Von See and meant “from the lake”. His first name meant “a god” in German and its’ Norman form was Lancelot. So his name was really “a God of the Lake” or Lancelot duLac and he was much too chivalrous to behave like that tv character. She laughed and told him her name was a form of the name Guenevere and that she was a married woman. He nodded and the conversation turned to other subjects and they spent the afternoon enjoying each other’s company.

She looked in the rear view mirror and checked on Timothy. He was sitting in his seat looking out of the window, smiling and chuckling happily, trying to capture a sunbeam. For the first time since the spell working, she could not detect any anger or resentment in him, only a buoyant, trusting acceptance of the world around him. “Good”, she thought as she returned her mind to driving. “He’s lost his desire for revenge. Maybe now he can start to grow up.”

When they got home she put Timothy in his crib for a nap. Janet went to the bedroom to change clothes. She sat down on the bed and was removing her clothing when she was suddenly overcome with a feeling of tiredness, of total lethargy. She decided she would take a nap before dinner. She finished disrobing and got into bed. She fell immediately into a deep slumber, and began to dream.

She dreamt that she was standing nude on a high wooded hilltop. “I am the Queen of these Woods,” she thought. “This is my land, a womanland of mystery and enchantment where my magick is as swift and sure as the hawk, as powerful and enduring as the she-bear. This is my place of power and none may challenge me here. I guard and ward this land and it protects me, for we are one.”

Far away, on the eastern horizon, the crest of another hill shimmered with an aureate glow. She stood sentinel over the land and waited as the source of the golden radiance drew nigh. Presently, she was able to discern that the light was a mounted knight in golden Armour. The knight galloped directly to her hill and cantered up the slope. He closed the distance between them to a full score yards, stopped and reared his Destrier. The knight leveled his lance as if preparing to charge. After a moment he raised the lance in salute and reversed and grounded the point in the earth. He dropped the reins and dismounted, leaving the lance standing like a solitary pine, rooted in place. He strode toward her with six long paces, paused and drew sword. The knight pointed the sword toward her for an instant, then raised it in salute, reversed and grounded it too. He dropped his shield where he stood, then loosed his baldric and let fall his harness and dirk. Once more he strode until they were separated by but three paces. He took one pace more, then bowed deeply and knelt on the turf.

“Who are you horseman, who invades my domain?”, she demanded.

“I am he who you seek,” came the muffled reply from within the helm.

“I seek no cavalier,” she countered, “Be off with you!”

“I may not, for my destiny lies here,” said the knight.

“If you remain you shall meet thy doom. Depart henceforth knight, that you may live!”, she threatened.

“You are my doom!’ said the knight and bowed his head and removed his helm, casting it aside.

She could not see his face, so deeply was his head bowed. “If I am your doom, then what are you to me?”, she taunted.

“I am your true love,” he said raising his head and looking into her eyes for the first time. She looked at his face and saw the knight was Ancel. She nodded in agreement, gave him her hand and said, “Arise, Ancel and prove thy love. Let us in yon grove abide and take our ease until the morrow.”

He rose and they began to walk towards the grove when…..the dream changed….

She woke up in a sweat. The bedclothes were damp with perspiration and she was very, very horny. She put her hand between her legs and it came back wet. She lay there and thought about the dream for a moment before opening her eyes. The very thought of Ancel made her intensely horny. “If I wasn’t married to Ted,” she thought. “I would…..No. No! I married Ted and I’m his wife. It can’t happen! I won’t let it happen!”

She decided to try to understand the rest of the dream. Was it telling her that her feelings toward Ted were only maternal or was she just reacting to her current (temporary) role as his mother?

She sighed and opened her eyes. Her psychic sense went to full alert, the room fairly reeked of magick. She had been the target of a spell! She probed the room psychically trying to discover a trace of the spell caster. With a start she realized it came from the nursery. He was a witch …???! She probed the nursery from where she lay and could only feel the thoughts of a sleeping baby. A baby couldn’t attack her. “A baby ??!”, she thought. “Ted may have the body of a baby but he still has an adult mind! Where is he?” She probed for any life/intelligence in the house, there were only two; the baby and herself.

She sat up in the bed and reached for her robe. Something was very wrong and she intended to find out exactly what had happened! She put on her robe, got out of bed and nearly fell over
“Was the dream real? Did Ted do this? He wasn’t a witch. Unless,…. unless some experience had inhibited his psychic faculties as he grew up and regressing him had freed his abilities. “But why this? Why not simply attack me and vent his anger?” She thought about the visit to Vivian’s house this afternoon and what she had said. She had fed Timothy and he had been no trouble after that. Timothy had been so happy and calm in the car on the way home. She hadn’t sensed any anger, frustration or distress from him, even when she put him down for a nap!

She got up and ran to the nursery in a panic. She stood beside the crib and probed him lightly. Nothing, only a baby’s dreams. She picked him up and went over to the rocking chair and sat down with him. She rocked in the chair and woke him gently, if she alarmed him and he was psychic, it would make a deep probe difficult. Janet held Timothy on her lap with his back cradled in her left arm and his legs across hers. His head lay against her as he gazed up at her in dulcet innocent wonder. His aura scintillated with dancing blues and greens of bright crystalline hue. She deep-probed his mind and found only a serene pellucid infant id, empty of ego and untouched by guilt or pain. She searched his memory for some remnant of Ted’s identity, but she encountered only newly formed gestalt images; the sight/sound/smell/taste/touch perception-memories recorded as he experienced them. Here was a memory of warm sunbeams, mockingbirds, and a soft blanket. There was the drive home in the Suburban. Over here was a memory of her holding him, carrying him, and putting him down in his crib for a nap.

“He is gone now.” she thought. “Ted has disappeared and left little baby Timothy in his place. My poor beloved Ted, my husband, my sweetheart, is just mommy’s little baby now. Mommy’s so sorry she did this to you.” She cuddled him maternally and stroked his hair. A thin rivulet of drool rolled down his chin which she gently wiped away with a corner of the blanket. His lips made small, unconscious nursing movements as she fondled his cheek. She kissed him on the forehead as tears welled up in her eyes. She would retain her love for Ted while she treasured and nurtured her darling little baby boy. “My poor, poor babe,” she said. She recalled reading something that she hadn’t thought of in years; Arthur was the Welsh form of the Celtic name “Artos”, which meant “bear”. She had been so wrong about him, she thought as she unbuttoned her blouse. “Timothy wasn’t a Viking warrior intent on stealing her away from King Arthur. Timothy was King Arthur, the Arthur who had lost faith in himself and Guenevere, and thus lost both wife and kingdom.”, she thought. She understood now, what had happened was kismet, the Arthurian cycle had repeated itself once more. Ancel was Lancelot duLac, her soul-mate. All of the mistakes and betrayals were merely part of the cosmic dance. She and Ancel would spend the rest of their lives together with Timothy by her side. She would call Ancel in a few minutes and begin her life journey with him, but she had someone to tend to first.

“Mommy will take care of you forever and ever, sweet baby.”, she said, caressing him tenderly with her hand. “My dear precious little baby, at least we’ll all live happily ever after.”