When Blue Eyes Turn Gold
Prelude
A young girl of six rode the ordered wagon to the village on the border of Camelot and the Great Seas of Meredor. King Uther Pendragon had personally ordered his finest knights, all with glistening armour and belts brandished with the most awe-inspiring collection of swords, to get the elderly, the women, and the children from the once-bountiful Freema village, two leagues from the White Mountains. It was here that our story begins. The village of Freema wasn’t very well known, and was populated only by families that had lived and settled for thousands of years. Despite being a peace-worshipping village, Freema gained many angry enemies and longed to see the city reduced to nothing but a thick layer of black dust settled upon the green grasses of Camelot. Alas, the day came when the livid enemies of Freema joined forces, setting every barn, house, and bale of hay on fire. Instantaneously, the village was engulfed in flames.
King Uther heard word of the planned attack on Freema, a village he had rather loved to visit many a time in the past with his loving wife and immediately set men out to gather the good people and give them shelter, homes, food, anything they desired. Without making them regretfully rich, though. The knights seemed to arrive at Freema just in time, for the women and children were fleeing with horses and livestock as the men staved off the mob with pitchforks, swords, and any tool that could be used to defend their beloved families.
The children were piled in to the wagons, some without family, some with burns that scalded their round and sweet little faces. There was one though, seemingly unharmed, that sat in the mounds of hay that filled the wagons. Her red hair had many hues of browns and oranges, while her eyes were green and brown. She sat with wide-eyes, staring at the screaming babies and mothers as the wagon pulled away from the flame-engulfed Freema.
She slept the entire way to the new abode, set for the survivors of the Freema massacre and did not arouse from the small cocoon of hay and ashes that kept her warm in the chilly spring night. She was easy to miss, when not looking carefully. Needless to say, the small child was overlooked. The knights returned to Camelot and reported back to the King, telling of their adventure and the people they were able to save. The little girl was found by servants in the hay mound, starving and quietly weeping for her mother. One servant, a tall muscular man of about thirty took one look at the girl and instantly felt his nerves snap apart.
“A stow-away! How DARE she stay and think it alright to come in the King’s palace!” He roared. The second servant, a maid who was older than anyone could really recall stood in the way of the stronger man, taking the child up in to her arms.
“Calm yourself, William. She ain’t not but a chil‘. We shall take ‘er to the King and follow his orders, as it should be.” The maidservant walked towards the throne room, child in hand and heart in her stomach, hoping that the King would find it in his heart to keep her alive. Even though he saved the villagers of Freema from being burnt along with their beloved town, King Uther’s heart was heavy with ice, consumed by his power both physically, mentally, and the mounds of gold in the castle treasury.
King Uther heard word of the planned attack on Freema, a village he had rather loved to visit many a time in the past with his loving wife and immediately set men out to gather the good people and give them shelter, homes, food, anything they desired. Without making them regretfully rich, though. The knights seemed to arrive at Freema just in time, for the women and children were fleeing with horses and livestock as the men staved off the mob with pitchforks, swords, and any tool that could be used to defend their beloved families.
The children were piled in to the wagons, some without family, some with burns that scalded their round and sweet little faces. There was one though, seemingly unharmed, that sat in the mounds of hay that filled the wagons. Her red hair had many hues of browns and oranges, while her eyes were green and brown. She sat with wide-eyes, staring at the screaming babies and mothers as the wagon pulled away from the flame-engulfed Freema.
She slept the entire way to the new abode, set for the survivors of the Freema massacre and did not arouse from the small cocoon of hay and ashes that kept her warm in the chilly spring night. She was easy to miss, when not looking carefully. Needless to say, the small child was overlooked. The knights returned to Camelot and reported back to the King, telling of their adventure and the people they were able to save. The little girl was found by servants in the hay mound, starving and quietly weeping for her mother. One servant, a tall muscular man of about thirty took one look at the girl and instantly felt his nerves snap apart.
“A stow-away! How DARE she stay and think it alright to come in the King’s palace!” He roared. The second servant, a maid who was older than anyone could really recall stood in the way of the stronger man, taking the child up in to her arms.
“Calm yourself, William. She ain’t not but a chil‘. We shall take ‘er to the King and follow his orders, as it should be.” The maidservant walked towards the throne room, child in hand and heart in her stomach, hoping that the King would find it in his heart to keep her alive. Even though he saved the villagers of Freema from being burnt along with their beloved town, King Uther’s heart was heavy with ice, consumed by his power both physically, mentally, and the mounds of gold in the castle treasury.
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First chapter of my new Merlin story. More will be added in the next chapter, when merlin comes in and is all "oheyi'mhotkthnx" ALSO FREEMA WAS MADE UP KTHNX