The Mists of Avalon, by Marion Zimmer Bradley
When my mother's sister Morgause was married to King Lot of Orkney, I knew only that I had my first grown-up gown, and an amber necklace with silver. I loved Morgause well, for she often had time for me when mother did not, and she told me stories of my father - after his death, I think Igraine never spoke his name. But even though I loved Morgause, I feared her, for sometimes she would pinch me and tug my hair and call me tiresome brat, and it was she who first taunted me with the taunt which then made me weep, though now I take pride in it: "You were born of the fairy folk. Why not paint your face blue and wear deerskins, Morgaine of the Fairies!"
I knew only a little about the reasons for the wedding, or why
Morgause was to be married so young. I knew my mother was glad to have her married and away, for she fancied Morgause looked on Uther lustfully; she was probably not aware that Morgause looked lustfully on all men she came by. She was a bitch dog in heat, though indeed I suppose it was because she had no one to care what she did. At the wedding, in my new holiday gown, I heard them speak of how fortunate it was that Uther had made haste to amend his quarrel with Lot of Orkney, even giving him his own sister-in-law in marriage. I found Lot charming; only Uther, I think, was ever immune to that charm. Certainly Morgause seemed to love him -or perhaps only found it expedient to act as if she did.
It was there, I think, that I first remember meeting with the Lady of Avalon. Like Morgause, she was my aunt, my mother's sister, and she was also of the ancient folk - small, and dark, and glowing, with crimson ribbons braided in her dark hair. She was not young, even then, but I thought her, as I always thought her, beautiful; and her voice was rich and low. What I liked best about her was that she spoke to me always as if I were a woman of her own age, not with the cooing falsity with which most grown-up people spoke to a child.
I came into the hall a little late, for my nurse had not been able to manage braiding my hair with ribbons, and in the end I did it myself; I have always been neat-handed, and could do well and swiftly things which grown-up people did only slowly. Already I could spin as well as my mother and better than Morgause ever did. I was very proud of myself, in my saffron gown with ribbons edged with gold, and an amber necklace instead of the baby corals I had outgrown. But there was no seat at the high table, and I circled it in disappointment, knowing that any moment now Mother would banish me to a lower table, or call my nurse to take me away, or call attention to me by sending a serving-woman to fetch a chair. And while I was a princess in Cornwall, at Uther's court in Caerleon I was only the Queen's daughter by a man who had been traitor to his High King.
And then I saw a small, dark woman-so small, in fact, that at first I thought she was a girl only a little older than I-sitting on an embroidered stool. She put out her arms and said, "Come here, Morgaine. Do you remember me?"
I did not, but I looked at the dark, glowing face, and felt as if I had known her from the beginning of time.
But I pouted a little, because I was afraid she would tell me to come and sit on her lap, as if I were a baby. Instead, she smiled and moved to one side of her stool. I could see now that she was not a girl, but a lady.
"We are neither of us very big," she said. "I think this one stool will hold us both, since it was made for bigger people."
From that moment I loved her, so much I sometimes felt guilty because Father Columba, my mother's confessor, told me I should honor my mother and my father above all others.
So I sat beside Viviane through the wedding feast, and I learned that she was Morgause's foster-mother-their mother had died at Morgause's birth and Viviane suckled her as her own. Which fascinated me, because I had been angry when Igraine refused to give my new brother up to a wet nurse and fed him from her own breasts. Uther said it was unseemly for a queen, and I had agreed with him; I had hated seeing Gwydion at Igraine's breasts. I suppose the truth is that l was jealous, though I would have been ashamed to say so.
"Was your mother, and Igraine's, a queen, then? " For she was robed as richly as Igraine, or any of the queens of the North.
"No, Morgaine, she was not a queen, but a great priestess, the Lady of the Lake; and I am Lady of Avalon in her place. One day, perhaps, you will be a priestess too. You have the old blood, and perhaps you have the Sight."
"What is the Sight?"
She frowned. "Igraine has not told you? Tell me, Morgaine, do you ever see things that others cannot see?"
"All the time," I said, realizing that this lady understood all about me. "Only Father Columba says it is the work of the Devil. And Mother says that I should be silent about it, and never speak of it to anyone, even to her, because these things are not suitable for a Christian court and if Uther knew of them he would send me into a nunnery. I do not
think I want to go into a nunnery and wear black clothes and never laugh again."
Viviane said a word for which nurse had washed my mouth out with the harsh lye soap the kitchen people used for scrubbing floors.
"Listen to me, Morgaine. Your mother is right that you should never speak of these things to Father Columba-"
"But God will be angry with me if I lie to a priest."
She said the bad word again. "Listen, dear child: a priest will be angry if you lie to him, and say it is his God who is angry. But the Great Creator has better things to do than to be angry with young people, and this is a matter for your own conscience. Trust me, Morgaine: never say any more to Father Columba than you must, but always believe what the Sight tells you, for it comes to you directly from the Goddess."
"Is the Goddess the same as the Virgin Mary, Mother of God?"
She frowned. "All the Gods are one God and all the Goddesses are one Goddess. The Great Goddess will not be angry if you call her by the name of Mary, who was good and loved mankind. Listen, my dear, this is no talk for a festival. But I swear you shall never go into a nunnery while there is life and breath in my body, no matter what Uther may say. Now that I know you have the Sight, I will move Heaven and Earth if I must, to bring you to Avalon. Shall this be a secret between us, Morgaine? Will you promise me?"
"I promise," I said, and she leaned down and kissed my cheek. "Listen, the harpers are beginning to play for the dancing. Is Morgause not beautiful in her blue gown?"