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Mar. 17th, 2008 04:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
igraineofcornwallIgraine of Cornwall
Camelot mythos
518 words
Camelot mythos
518 words
It had taken Igraine a long time to fall asleep. Parts of her body that she did not even know existed were sore and aching. Every movement she had made, she had cried out in pain. Guenevere's druid had helped, though. He had brought a warm drink that had slid down her throat with the greastest of ease. She had been flooded with extreme cold then extreme heat and then she had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Her eyes flickered open to meet with nearly solid darkness. A few rays of moonlight came through her curtains, but the moon was thin tonight and her candle had long since burned out. Igraine gave a quiet gasp as she sat up, and her eyes looked blindly around, trying to figure out what in the stillness had woken her.
Then, she heard it. The shift of movement, a quiet whimper. Her body tensed, and she reached under her pillow for the knife she kept there. Her mother's name was still feared enough that she sometimes feared for her own safety, no matter what the lovely Guenevere tried to tell her.
"Igraine... Are you awake?"
The whisper made the young woman relax. She smiled in the darkness.
"Yes, Maire, I am," Igraine whispered in reply.
Soon, the bed had a small weight on it, and a pair of small arms curled around Igraine's neck. The fourteen-year-old Igraine kissed the head of the nine-year-old Maire.
"I had a nightmare," the little girl whispered.
"What about?" Igraine asked quietly, laying back down, and Maire settled right in beside her, moving as close as she could get.
"I dreamed that there was a big dragon trying to eat everyone."
"A dragon? Well, then there's nothing to fear," Igraine replied, chuckling faintly.
"There's not?" Maire's tone of voice gave away the wide eyes that Igraine could not see.
"Not any reason at all," Igraine assured her. "We have a very experienced dragon slayer in the castle. He will protect us."
"Who?" Maire asked, and Igraine smiled to herself, inventing the story.
"Why, Sir Kay of course. He's slain very many dragons, you know."
"No," Maire whispered in awe.
"Yes," Igraine replied. "I'll tell you about Golian, the biggest, meanest dragon that England ever saw and how Sir Kay saved us all from it."
Igraine touched Maire's face and then ran her fingers through the girl's hair as she wove her story into the night, stopping only once she heard the easy snoring of the small child. Then, and only then, did she lay her own head down again and close her eyes.
Her eyes flickered open to meet with nearly solid darkness. A few rays of moonlight came through her curtains, but the moon was thin tonight and her candle had long since burned out. Igraine gave a quiet gasp as she sat up, and her eyes looked blindly around, trying to figure out what in the stillness had woken her.
Then, she heard it. The shift of movement, a quiet whimper. Her body tensed, and she reached under her pillow for the knife she kept there. Her mother's name was still feared enough that she sometimes feared for her own safety, no matter what the lovely Guenevere tried to tell her.
"Igraine... Are you awake?"
The whisper made the young woman relax. She smiled in the darkness.
"Yes, Maire, I am," Igraine whispered in reply.
Soon, the bed had a small weight on it, and a pair of small arms curled around Igraine's neck. The fourteen-year-old Igraine kissed the head of the nine-year-old Maire.
"I had a nightmare," the little girl whispered.
"What about?" Igraine asked quietly, laying back down, and Maire settled right in beside her, moving as close as she could get.
"I dreamed that there was a big dragon trying to eat everyone."
"A dragon? Well, then there's nothing to fear," Igraine replied, chuckling faintly.
"There's not?" Maire's tone of voice gave away the wide eyes that Igraine could not see.
"Not any reason at all," Igraine assured her. "We have a very experienced dragon slayer in the castle. He will protect us."
"Who?" Maire asked, and Igraine smiled to herself, inventing the story.
"Why, Sir Kay of course. He's slain very many dragons, you know."
"No," Maire whispered in awe.
"Yes," Igraine replied. "I'll tell you about Golian, the biggest, meanest dragon that England ever saw and how Sir Kay saved us all from it."
Igraine touched Maire's face and then ran her fingers through the girl's hair as she wove her story into the night, stopping only once she heard the easy snoring of the small child. Then, and only then, did she lay her own head down again and close her eyes.