"Avalon!" my mother, the queen shrieks from somewhere below me, "the gnomes are at it again!"

Sighing, I push myself out of my queen-size bed, finger combing my hair as I swing open my door and run barefoot down the cold spiral stairs, my nightgown flowing out behind me like a cape.

I round the hall to see my mother in her signature blush pink dress wielding a mop, her crown proudly sitting atop her head, and five disobedient gnomes frolicking around her heeled feet.

"They got out again?" I ask dumbly.

"No, I let them out. What do you think happened? Help me, please!"

I tug another mop off the hooks on the wall and shoo the scrabbling gnomes out the door leading to the palace garden.

"Oh no you don't!" my mother yelps, and I remove my attention from my gnome shooing to my mother who has wrestled a gnome into her arms as it furiously tries to break free.

"Need help?" I offer.

Her face is flushed as the gnome continues its fight to get away, screaming and hitting her face, "No, I got- I got- No! Come back here!" and she chases the gnome down the hall I came from, the gnomes devious laughter slowly fading as it runs away.

I feel a poke on the back of my thigh and look down at one of the gnomes smiling up at me, its comrades nowhere to be seen, hopefully back in the garden.

I smile, "Aww," and lean down to pick it up.

I never learn my lesson: Gnomes are tricky little bastards, as it chomps down on my finger, "OW!" I yell, swiping at its tiny legs, but it's already giggling and has dived under a rock near the pathway that leads into the garden.

"Little rat," I mutter, rubbing my finger, and running off the find my mother and the runaway gnome. 

-

I find her cornering the gnome at the end of the hallway where the hall branches off to the right to the spiral staircase that leads upstairs to the sleeping quarters. She's in a squat stance, the gnome shuffling back and forth, its eyes gleaming in mischief.

After a few silent moments of the standoff, she pounces, her crown clatters to the floor, and her heels clack against the stone wall as she grips the gnome's tiny arms tightly. She is breathing heavily as the gnome screeches loudly, thrashing as it tries to escape again. My mother regains her posture, holding her head high, her thick light brown hair cascading down her shoulders, touching her waist as she struts back down the hallway, calling over her shoulder, "Avalon, pick up my crown, please."

I pick up her crown, observing how its jewels gleam in the sunlight coming in from the garden door at the other side of the hallway where my mother has disappeared with the gnome.

I pick up the ends of my nightgown and hurry in the direction she went, and step out into the garden, where she has buried the gnome's head in a patch of soft dirt, where it protests, screaming and kicking its small legs.

Flustered, she says, "And why, darling, do we bury the gnome's head in the dirt when it escapes?"

My mind blank, I come up with the first thing that pops into my head, "So it gets a mouthful of dirt?"

She shakes her head, letting go of the gnome and it pops its head out of the dirt, and scampers into the hole under the rock the other four gnomes went to.

She stands up, gingerly brushing the small pieces of dirt that have appeared on the skirt of her dress, "It's to teach them a lesson. Our gnomes make their homes in the dirt, under rocks, but they do not appreciate being mocked by having their head buried in the dirt. It shames them, and in turn, they feel discomfiture."

"Right," I say, twisting my bare toe against the stone pathway, embarrassed at my lack of remembrance.

"My crown?" she questions, holding her palm out.

"Oh, yes!" I exclaim, swinging the headpiece from behind my back where I had been holding it, and hand it to her outstretched palm.

"Thank you," and she puts her crown on her head, a perfect fit.

"How did they get out in the first place?"

"Your sister must have left the door unlocked last night when she returned from visiting Phillip."

Ah, yes. Prince Phillip. The love of my older sister's life.

My mom sees the look of annoyance on my face, "Don't stress, Avalon, you will find your prince too."

"When?" I whine.

She lays a hand on my shoulder, "When your time comes. Will you go wake your sister?"

"Yes," I grumble. 

-

I return back down the hallway I've already used many times this morning, and up the spiral stairs, to my older sister, Blair's room.

I burst in, without knocking, leap onto my sister's four-poster bed, and jump up and down yelling, "BLAIR LET THE GNOMES OUT! BLAIR LET THE GNOMES OUT!"

She startles, and glares at me, tugging the duvet out from under my feet so I bounce off the bed and onto the carpet.

I cross my arms across my chest, my legs stretched out in front of me, and pout as she throws the duvet back into place on the mattress, walks into her adjoining bathroom, and slams the door shrieking, "YOU ARE THE WORST!"

I push myself up off the floor, dash to my bedroom, and throw myself onto my bed, tugging the covers over my head.

Approximately 0.02 seconds later I hear Blair scream, "MOTHER, THE FAIRIES PLAYED WITH MY MAKEUP AGAIN!"

I groan and press a pillow against my face. 

A/N: Dedicated to Rosie :)

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