The sun was drawing low in the sky by the time Tiffwany reached the small village. She could hear horses on the road behind her. She pulled the oversized hood of her cloak lower over her face and drew it tighter around her. Strangers tended to be frightened by her strange looks. She turned to see who came on the road. She guessed by the shine of what she supposed was armor and the size of the horses that the men coming toward her were knights. She stood still for a while, waiting to see if she recognized the insignia on the far away banner, she didn't. So instead of waiting she turned into the woods. She guessed there would be a small clearing here somewhere. She could feel it just at the edge of her range. She headed toward it, and toward the village. Yet as she neared the sacred grove she heard the sound of men. Her pace slowed. There were men here in the goddess' sacred groves. She slipped through the trees on silent feet. Yet she could not keep silent once she could see. Men, a Christian priest and some local men, they had torches, they were setting fire to the sacred trees. Tiffwany cried out before she could stop herself. The men turned to her. One of them, who was only a foot or so away, seized her before she could run. He dragged her into the clearing; he was far stronger than she. He shoved back the white hood of her cape. Her silver white hair tumbled out of the hood to frame her snow white face. The men around her gasped and many crossed themselves. She stared at them defiantly, knowing how her pale skin and strange ice-like eyes unnerved people, also knowing it may well damn her for a witch with these men.

"It's a fey!" One of the men cried. "Come to try and save the evil forest."

"Whatever it is, it is not of God." The priest said clutching the cross on his chest.

"We should burn her with her forest!" one of the men yelled. Tiffwany felt her eyes widen, she didn't want to burn. Even she couldn't keep a forest fire at bay for long.

"We don't want her or her sin destroying our crops," the man who had first accused her of being a fey said.

"Burn the witch!" yelled one of the men, soon they were all yelling. It made Tiffwany's head hurt, and so did the bright light and the smoke from the torches. She had to find a way out. Yet even if she escaped they would come after her with dogs and horses, she would not escape.

The knights, she thought suddenly. That was the answer, if they knew she was in trouble, they would have to save her, at least bring her to trial at the round table which she would pass. She was a priestess of Avalon, a student of Merlin, not a petty witch. She cursed these horribly mundane peasants and their zealous Christian beliefs. She cursed them out loud as they began to tie her to a tree. They crossed themselves and started looking for a gag less she damn them. She started screaming. It was undignified and crude, but she hoped, prayed to the goddess, that the knights would obey their vows and come to help her. She prayed that the goddess would not let her perish here, before her fifteenth birthday.

The men were now holding the torches to the trees. Tears ran down Tiffwany's face at the destruction of the sacred grove. One of the men finally gagged her but she kept screaming though she could make little distinct sound, she still made sound. Then she heard what she had been praying for, the sound of men crashing through the forest. She saw them crash into the forest though smoke was building up now. The gag made it even harder to breath. One of the men moved toward her, the other was either trying to catch the men or put out the fire, she couldn't tell. The world was starting to swim and her delicate skin was starting to hurt from the heat of the flames. The dark knight was now there. Smoke made it hard for her to see him as he cut her loose. She could see only his dark hair, pale skin, and now sooty armor. He pulled the gag out of her mouth. She tried to breathe and started coughing up soot.

"Mordred, we have to get out of here now, grab the girl and let's go, or we are all going to burn."

Mordred looked at her. She tried to step and she stumbled. Far more gently than she could have expected in his heavy armor he picked her up in both arms and followed the other knight out of the woods. She struggled to regain her breath and sight as they walked away but she was crying, she could hear the forest screaming in pain. Mordred looked down at her, concerned. She could see his face now. Despite her situation her heart gave a lurch. He had a face she had both seen and never seen before. His stormy grey eyes captivated her attention, his eyes were very familiar. He looked up and she felt herself blush, not being able to stop herself from noticing the strong line of his chin or the broad set of his shoulders. Once they were out of the forest he set her gently on her feet, keeping one arm around her to keep her steady.

Now that her head was clearing she realized with a start why she both knew and did not know Mordred's fair face. She studied him anew; she had never seen the king's son before in person for all her time in Camelot. She had always pictured him far less attractive, somehow ugly for the evil people bestowed upon him. She called herself a fool, Mordred had just saved her life. Though she doubted Mordred was a Christian man with a Christian fear of her moon-washed looks, his mother was the Lady Morgan after all. Still she would accuse him of no evil without evidence of her own. Many people set evil upon her shoulders as well, she reminded herself, especially with the new Christian queen.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

A.N.
I am just trying this out, its part of a novel i want to write... its kinda in the middle of the Story...
Tiffwany is a preistess of avalon, who studied under merlin after she gave the sword to arthur in the lake at the bidding of the goddess who speaks to Tiffwany in the mists and storms. What's your opinion... and yes for a while Mordred was a knight like any other, saving damsels in distress