King Arthur watched as the clouds overhead converged in a bulky, gray mass. He sighed heavily, knowing a thunderstorm was coming soon. He was so close to Camelot, but no...the storm had to come now. He didn't say anything to his knights or his Queen though. It was an unnecessary topic to bring up on their ride.
At the thought of his sweet bride, he turned to his right and met her dazzling blue eyes gazing back at him with supreme loveliness. Her natural brown locks showered across her face, but she impatiently brushed them aside as she smiled halfheartedly towards her husband. Guinevere was at heart a true Woad warrior who fought for her own rights. She was talented with her bow and arrow and daggers and most dangerous on the battlefield. Outside it though, she was one of the gentlest women the knights had come to known. Arthur then turned to his left, where his best friend and most loyal knight rode alongside on his white horse...Lancelot of Sarmatia. Lancelot was a proud, cocky knight who was very down-to-earth and never bothered with what the world could be like. If Arthur was absorbed by his idealistic vision of how the world could be like, Lancelot was every bit more grounded in the hatred of the real world he lived in. However, he was passionate and very handsome; dark brown curls and dark brown eyes, strong physique, and talented with two twin swords.
"There appears to be a storm coming overhead." Lancelot commented brusquely, interrupting Arthur's thoughts. The King bit his lower lip in response.
"We will make it to Camelot, Lancelot. Don't you worry about that." Galahad replied to Lancelot's left. Arthur was glad for Galahad's optimist spirit; it certainly had held these knights together for the last sixteen years. Guinevere stirred silently to his right as she observed the skies.
Lancelot watched Arthur and Guinevere quietly. A year of venerating her in the highest degree possible known to him, and she did not notice him in the way he wished so. Sure, he had bedded many women in the past and they all loved him to a fiery, nonsensical extent, but Guinevere was different. She was perhaps the first woman he met that did not love him instantly, that did not wish to bed him immediately. And worst, she was the first woman he had fallen completely in love with, had given her everything of him, but received nothing in return for his love. No, instead, she wedded his best friend and became the Queen of Camelot, only with Lancelot known as her knight and her distinguished companion. He turned away so as not to see the two happily wed couple, and his eye caught on something else.
"Look, upon yonder. Do you see?" He pointed out a cloaked figure by the edge of the lake they were fast approaching. Arthur squinted in the misty haze and perceived the same figure.
"Yes! Who should it be?" He asked aloud. No one answered.
"Perhaps if we approach closer, we might have a look." Galahad suggested and the knights gathered around a bush, staring intently at the bent cloaked figure. Suddenly, a cloud of glinting, shiny flecks of glassy sequins scattered in a whirlwind, startling the knights. However, the cloaked figure stayed perfectly still as Merlin the wizard appeared before them. He leaned against his staff, his blue eyes dancing in amusement.
The cloaked figure stood up, the hood falling back and at once, Lancelot felt enraptured, staring at a woman of twenty or so, with wavy brown locks that fell back on her shoulders in a carefree, charming manner that illuminated even in the film of fog. Her eyes were the brightest green, gleaming and dancing with the same delight as Merlin's. They contorted a sense of peacefulness Lancelot had not seen before, and also a sense of despair, as though she had seen many wars at a time.
"Ah Elaine, I did not expect you here so soon." Merlin welcomed his guest warmly. Elaine made the slightest curtsy and smiled.
"I arrived a bit early. I could not stay in Macchiato too long, Merlin. The villagers were suffering and I knew I had to go get help before it was too late for them. When should Nimue be here? I need to get to Camelot as soon as possible before the storm hits."
"Sois patient, Elaine. She will come in time. After all, time ceases to wait for anybody or anything." He commented. Elaine nodded in vain and leaned against a large oak tree that overlooked the lake.
"I do hope Arthur will be of some assistance. I cannot do this alone." At this, Arthur's ears perked up. The stranger had mentioned his name, and from the tone, she required his assistance immediately. He became at once, more interested in this conversation.
"Ah, you do not know Arthur then. I am positive he will try in any way he can to help those in peril, especially those of innocent, worthy peril." Merlin mentioned.
"I sincerely hope so. I cannot stand and let the Saxons rage their way into this land as though it is rightfully theirs. Those mindless brutal hogs are nothing more than swashbucklers. I will not stand for our land being invaded by a crowd of Saxons." Her tongue accented the word as though it was poison. Lancelot smiled slightly at her disapproving tone. He could hear the deep accent of British and French she had, which meant that she had grown up in the area of Edinburgh or one of those England territories, perhaps one of those that were next to France.
"Elaine, you remind me too much of your mother." Merlin chuckled.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Elaine asked, slightly interested.
"Well, your mother was always hopefully optimistic about the world. She wanted to believe that we could be at peace one day with our foes and friends. She believed that war was the only thing that separated two potential friends, and she wanted, more than anything, to find some ways of making ends meet. You too, try to find peace. You know it will never come but you want to believe it."
Elaine didn't say a word. She stared at Merlin with her fiery green eyes and looked down at the water, mesmerized. A tress of hair fell across her face, but she didn't notice as she continued to stare at her own reflection. Merlin looked down as well, frowning.
"What are you looking at?"
"My reflection." She answered.
"What for, Elaine?" Merlin asked, perplexed.
"Just to see how much I resemble my mother in appearance. My father and brother used to say how much I resembled her. I never really took this to heart or noticed for myself. If I ever told anyone I was similar to my mother, how will I prove this to them? All I have are but memories, and no matter what I can do, I cannot transfer these memories into live pictures of that person." She was straying off topic, but Merlin never questioned her wandering, vagrant subject. He only watched as she continued staring at the open water in confidence and expectation, wandering what laid in the mind of that twenty-something year old woman, who believed so heavily in peace but knew it would never be obtained, who wanted so badly to help those strangers in towns she never heard of, who longed for adventured and craved for romance, and who inspired a world of majestic peoples.
Author's Note: I'm sorry if some things are off topic and slightly confusing. Such as the part where Elaine talks about her mother- I just thought it would provide some background info about what Elaine thinks about her family. After all, family is important to this century and it defines you as a person and what role you play in society. Because Elaine's parents are both from high society, she too is born with good education, expectations, and material possessions. Maybe in the next chapter, I'll talk more about Elaine's family and we'll end the family discussion there and I won't talk about it anymore. Thanks for your patience.