“I’m pleased to see you safe, my granddaughter. It must be hard for you. I wish that there was another way, but… again, I’m sorry.”

The wizened old woman was sitting on an antique chair, observing Eleanor, but despite her advancing age, her eyes were still bright and sparkling, full of humour and wisdom. Still, there was a shadow on her face, a deep sorrow that Eleanor understood well.

Calming her shaking hands, she nodded, her voluminous brown hair, bound in a long ponytail by a simple silver ribbon, bouncing behind her. Meeting her grandmothers’ gaze with her own matching deep blue eyes, she spoke. “I… I know. But… but I can’t do it. Why… why did this have to come to me? Why not my brothers? After all, Richard is going to be King one day, and Henry went through his tour of the army. I… I don’t understand why it’s me…”

None of this should be possible. The world… the world isn’t like this! I’m the third child, and as a girl, I’m way down the line of succession. I thought my only royal duties would be to look good during public appearances, and keep out of trouble, no scandals for the tabloid press!

“I thought the same when I came to the throne. It wasn’t supposed to be me either, dear Eleanor.” Her grandmother, Elizabeth, the Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain, said, reminiscing. “My brother William was killed in the War, and well, you know what happened to George. Therefore I was crowned, in the difficult time after the War, trying to steer our country through a tough, post-War era.” She leaned in, conspiratorially. “Now, most would say that the Prime Minster and the Cabinet run the country, and yes, that’s true, but we keep a secret that transcends the mundane matters that Government worries about.”

A secret. I know it now. How could I not? Her hands began to tremble once more, and she remembered the events of the previous few hours vividly, feeling her stomach clench, bile rising in her throat.

“Are you all right? Shall I summon someone to bring you a drink?” Queen Elizabeth asked, concerned.

“No, no… I’ll be fine.” Eleanor gasped. “I was just remembering…” The clash of steel on steel, the hideous yells of the vile goblins as they swarmed over the warped landscape, the barking of the foul hounds, their spittle stinking and acidic, burning my exposed skin. All under a sky so strange and alien it defies belief.

“No, you need a drink. Something strong. When I find myself beset by worries, I find a tot or two of brandy or gin takes the edge off.” Laughing, she rang a small silver bell, and soon a butler entered, an elderly man, impeccably dressed.

“Your will, your Majesty?” he asked.

“Bring us some brandy, the good stuff. Oh, and some sweets to go with it.”

The butler bowed and withdrew, leaving them alone again. “I don’t know what you have to face, and it grieves me, but the Royal Family has carried this secret for thousands of years. Even when families fell, such as the houses of York and Lancaster, the Saxons, or the Norman lines, even then they would pass on the tale, even to bitter enemies.”

“That’s what I don’t understand.” Eleanor protested. “King Arthur, the Round Table… it was all fiction. There’s no such thing as magic, or fairy realms.” Their conversation was interrupted as the butler brought in a silver cart, upon which was a selection of delectable cakes, as well as several bottles of fine brandy and mixers, as well as a chilled bowl of ice. As the butler left, the Queen filled two glasses, dropping in ice, clinking rhythmically, pleasant on the ears. Handing one glass to her shaken granddaughter, the Queen took a sip, signing contentedly.

“That hits the spot. Go ahead, Eleanor, dear. I know you aren’t a big drinker, but now is the time to indulge. After all, it isn’t every day you get to taste a Louis XIII Black Pearl Cognac.” The queen took a longer sip, waiting.

Fine, I’ll drink, I will. Taking a sip, she widened her eyes, the rich flavour surprising, the alcohol hitting her with its warmth. Taking another sip, she realised her grandmother was right. It was calming her down.

“The wisdom of age.” Her grandmother grinned cheekily, divining her thoughts. “Seriously, I too was sceptical. As it stands, only the direct heirs in line of succession are told, so until George abdicated, I knew nothing myself. Your father knows, of course, as does Richard. Though I have kept your plight from them, for now anyway. I intend to change that soon. Your burden should be shared, not for you alone to shoulder. Still…” the queen topped up her glass, before cutting them both a slice of pretty cake. “… when I was told that the legacy treasures of the olden days were ours to keep safe for a time when they would be needed again… well, I didn’t entirely believe.”

“I don’t want to believe either…” Eleanor ate some cake, the sugar revitalising her. “… but how can I not? Still, the Green Man, the Green Knight… it feels like some sort of sick joke.”

“Well, many would envy your gift, Eleanor. After all, the ability to recover from injuries… your skin has never looked prettier, not a blemish on it. And you can’t even put on weight anymore. My dietician is always at me to look after my ailing health…”

Eleanor pouted, once more remembering the clash of battle she had endured for the last month, in accordance with the wishes of the strange tree-being that entered her dream, telling her she would carry the legacy of the legendary Green Knight, unkillable champion of the Druids of yore.

“Whether King Arthur existed, or was just an amalgamation of previous Kings of this sceptred isle, heroes did exist, and the treasures they carried are bequeathed to the rulers of this country under the pledge that when the darkness rose again, we would defend the land. And it seems that alas, the burden has fallen on you, to take up the mantle of our long-held responsibility.”

“I never asked for this…” she muttered, her voice small.

“No-one ever does.” The Queen sighed. “Still, I want you to know that you aren’t alone. I plan to do everything in my power to aid you, oh Green Knight,”

“Grandmother!” Eleanor hissed, shocked, until she saw the impish look on her face. “Don’t tease me. It isn’t funny…”

“You smiled though, dear granddaughter. I saw it!”

Oh grandmother… “I’m not smiling,” she pouted, denying it.

“Well, this old woman will allow you to deceive her.” Taking another long draught of her cognac she asked the question that was on her mind, weighing on her. “So, what is it like, Eleanor? The world of the fairies, our fair Avalon?”

Once more the thoughts of battle filled her mind, but whether it was the alcohol fogging her mind, or the soothing presence of her grandmother, she felt able to talk about it. “Strange. A distorted mirror of our own. When I fixed my banner to the Tower of London, as you told me to…”

“Indeed, as the tale goes, when the ravens are gone from the Tower, and the Tower falls, so too shall Britain be destroyed, despair covering the land.” The Queen interrupted, leaning forwards, eager to hear more. “Were there ravens there? Surely there must have been, right, dear Eleanor?”

“Please don’t interrupt. This is hard enough to talk about as it is.” She chided, and the Queen shrugged apologetically. “Yes, there were ravens. The Tower is larger, abnormally so. Underneath it is a vast space, where the relics are kept. That reminds me…” Eleanor searched for the right words. “The Green Armour… here, it is nothing but an ancient suit of armour you gifted me, made of old copper, green with Verdigris. Nothing about it other than its age shows it to be anything other than that.”

“Oh, now you have my interest.” The queen chuckled. “Our Royal duty has been to guard these for the day they would be needed. To think I’d see that day, now that I’m too old…” she refilled her glass, and Eleanor clicked her tongue.

“Grandmother, I’m sure your personal physician told you to cut back on the drinking, right?”

“You’ve got me.” Elizabeth smiled. “But if I can’t share a drink with my hero of a granddaughter, when she is finally fulfilling the duty we have carried for so long, what’s the point of living?”

Father is right. No-one ever wins an argument with Grandmother. “Don’t say that. If you were to die, the whole country will go into mourning.”

“Well, it’ll happen sooner of later. Best everyone gets used to the idea.” The Queen snorted. “Anyway, do go on.”

Eleanor held in a sigh. “All right then. As I was saying, in that strange world… the Green Armour… it was completely different, all emerald and gold. The relics too, not that I was able to use most of them. Still, one of the swords fit my hand.” At that she scoffed, self-deprecatingly. “Swords. I never even did fencing or sabres at school. I was always an equestrian. To think…” she swallowed a mouthful of the cognac, drowning her rising panic. “… now I have to swing a sword at horrible monsters. It’s a sick joke.”

“My poor Eleanor. If I could take your place, you know I would. Or even if I could make my sons do it…”

The thought of her grandmother fighting those … creatures… wearing heavy armour and waving weapons was a comical one and Eleanor leaked another small smile. Feeling that was her grandmothers’ intent she shook her head. “It’s as you said earlier. No-one gets to choose. Besides, there are a lot more suits of armour and weapons down there. If I was chosen, maybe in time my brothers will join me.” She smiled a touch bitterly then. “When that day comes, I’ll hide behind them, and let them fight off the rabid hordes…”

“So, what are they like? All our royal wisdom says is that they will be terrifying and cruel. Once more I’m pleased that the Green Man chose you. It’d be terrible if you got scarred before your marriage.”

“Grandmother!” Eleanor said, scandalised. “I don’t even have a boyfriend. If you want to talk about marriage, speak to Henry. He’s dating some American model.”

“Yes I’ve met her, she’s interesting enough.” The Queen allowed. “Anyway, we were talking about the enemies of our country, of Avalon.”

“We were, weren’t we?” Eleanor ate another slice of cake, her fourth piece. Yes, never being able to put on weight is a gift every girl thinks they would kill for. I would have thought so too, watching my weight and keeping my complexion good was always a hassle, but if I was photographed by the press looking flabby or spotty I’d die of mortification. Still, now I actually HAVE to fight for it… I’ve changed my mind. But I have it, so I may as well use it…

“Well, outside the tower, the sky is strange. It’s like the northern lights you can see in the Scottish Isles, just with stranger colours, and there is no sun or moon. No light at all, other than the strange auroras, really, yet you can still see clearly. And London… it seems to be a mixture of the new and the old, just without people. But there are things there.”

Eleanor talked about the goblins with their sharp knives and garish red outfits that were swarming the ghostly streets en-masse, as well as the baleful hounds, and the angry lumbering giants that she had avoided. Before long the bottle of cognac was empty, and she was feeling pleasantly drunk, unusual for her.

“See, talking about it did help, didn’t it?” the Queen was triumphant. “Any time it gets too much for you, I’m always here for you. I welcome a visit from my cutest granddaughter.”

“If the others hear you say that, they’ll be upset.” Eleanor warned, but she was feeling a little better now.

“Let them.” She waved a hand dismissively. “They aren’t carrying your burden. And speaking of that…” the Queen continued. “… I shall move heaven and earth, the whole country, to make sure you have the support you need. Not just for my duty as the Monarch, but because I want to see you as safe as possible. I’ve spoken to the Prime Minister, and surprisingly enough, he believed my tale immediately. Well, he is quite the colourful character, after all. With his help and my own connections, I’ve found a list of others who have been chosen like you. It’s difficult as this is a state secret and needs to be kept under wraps, at least for now, but I’ve spared no effort for you, my beloved granddaughter.” Retrieving a tablet computer, she passed it over.

“This is…” Eleanor gasped, seeing the series of profile photographs and detailed breakdowns.

“Yes. This modern technology really is quite something. Anyway, these are the people we have found who have also been blessed with strange gifts, and are willing to aid us, for appropriate renumeration, of course. There should be a fair few new faces in the New Year’s Honours List.”

As Eleanor scanned the list, she felt tears of relief welling up, warring against her endless fears. I won’t be alone anymore. Oh, how good that feels…