Avalon

Avalon: prologue, first draft

"Hurry, Marian! The laerd should not be kept!" the headmistress calls from the entrance to the house, great cream-colored plumes of dress billowing about her thighs as gust flies past them. She squints as she looks out towards the young girl, standing across the paddock by the well. At the sound of her voice, she pulls at the rope with renewed vigor, keen of the consequences to disappointing the headmistress. "Make sure the aves get watered well, girl!"

"Yes mum!" she yells back, stepping on the rope when the bucket comes within reach. She leans over the grey cobbled wall of the well, hooking her fingers around the bucket's handle and carefully swinging it onto the rocky ledge.

Lifting up the bucket, the girl's arms tremble with the effort of pulling its wooden water-filled confines up from the ground. The thin metal handle digs into her fingers as she takes one shaky step forward, her face screwing up in concentration as vigilantly checks the ground before her. She angles away from the house towards the barn, peeking up from her bucket just as a hand flashes across her peripherals.

Flinching back, she narrowly avoids a slap to the cheek that then swings into the bucket. Slapping it straight out of her hands, the water within spills out over the ground in a large wave. Mud kicks up around her ankles just as it settles. Marian looks up in shock, mouth agape. She's met with the sneering grins of the laerd's two pages.

The larger of the two boys – the one who had knocked the bucket from her grasp – was the laerd's own son, a blond boy with dark eyes. He was Owain, an ambitious and aggressive boy with a round face that went out of his way to terrorize Marian.

"Ew, look at her eyes," the smaller, Elyan, barbs at her. He's a huren serf, the shells of his ears round, his irises small. "They're so big, it's weird."

"What about her ears?" Owain returns, tugging at the sharp blade of her ear suddenly. She lets out a yelp, jumping away. He barks a cruel laugh.

"Stop it!" she yells, turning her gaze to the house. For a moment, she considers making a run for it. Elyan blocks her gaze, and she takes a nervous step back. "I'll tell Sir Urien."

"Stupid pointy-ear." The threat does nothing to deter Owain, who steps closer to her. Out of some silly pride, she refuses to shrink away, allowing him to come to nose to nose with her. Her large blue eyes meet his little brown ones, as he growls, "Little elv girl thinks she can threaten a noble, eh? We'll see."

His hands cascade down on her shoulders with enough force to knock her down into her knees, and she lets out a startled cry. To his side, Elyan lets out a laugh as his foot lifts from the ground, winding back for a kick.

"Hey!"

The boys hesitate for a second and Marian looks up to see the stable girl run out from the barn. Her blond hair is done in a messy bun that bounces as she runs, her emerald green eyes ferocious as she slides to a stop in the mud. Marian recognizes her – a quiet, shy huren girl named Eiddwen. She was the daughter of the laerd's headmistress – though she looks like nothing of the aging lady. She wears green trousers and a loose beige blouse, clothes that struck Marian as being far cheaper than her noble features should've adorned.

Eiddwen's gaze blazes at the boys as she yells, "Knock it off!"

"Or what?" Owain taunts, turning to her. His shoulders stiffen and he tenses all along his spine, and Marian wonders if it's because he's afraid.

Elyan is quick to back him. "Yeah, there's two of us!"

Eiddwen's eyes flick between the two of them before she glances towards Marian. To the elv's surprise, there's no fear in the green depths that behold her. Instead, there's a sort of confidence – an irrefutable belief in herself that Marian might've been tricked into agreeing with had she not been so doubtful. She wants to tell the young huren to run and get the laerd, but the boys stomp towards her before she can.