Stand Tall

Part One: Starlight

"Marriage?" Arthur exclaimed late one afternoon when his father explained what was taking place that evening. "I don't even know the girl!"

"That's hardly a problem. You'll get to know her," Uther said to his flabbergasted son. Merlin listened intently from the hall. He'd promised to tell Gwen everything.

"But what if she's-"

"Arthur, it doesn't matter whether you love her or not," the King snapped. "What matters is that we're no longer at war with Dane and the lands of the north. You will learn this as a part of war strategy when you are king of Camelot."

"I was simply going to ask if you knew much about her," The Prince said quietly.

"I've been told that her beauty is rivaled only by her wits. Is that it then, Arthur?"

"Yes father," Arthur sighed in defeat.

"Best get yourself prepared. It's going to be a long night, and it begins in less than two hours," Uther told his son. The blonde young man did as he was bidden, and strode out the main entrance of the throne room. Merlin scampered away just in time to get out of his master's sights. This certainly was big news.

---

"A beauty only rivaled by her wits? Oooh, Arthur, what have you gotten yourself into?" Merlin scolded as he prepared the Prince for the arrival of the Danes.

"Shut up, Merlin, you're not the one getting married. And I didn't get myself into anything, it was my father and his wretched 'diplomatic compromise'."

"You wanted to them to keep ransacking the eastern shores?" asked his servant in surprise.

"No, but I would have preferred a different solution."

"Let's not make any assumptions before you actually meet her. Who knows. She could be something... unexpected?"

"Merlin, you're not helping."

"Sorry, sire."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm already in love, and anyway, she comes from a line of third-rate, barbaric pagans."

"...It's time to go."

"Right. Wish me luck," Arthur sighed, and left with a swish of his cape.

"Luck," Merlin said after a pause of consideration.

---

The great hall certainly lived up to its name that night. A warm candlelit glow cascaded over the scenery, adding to the bubbly atmosphere of laughter and wine. Merlin stood at the edge of the hall, with his trusted friend Guinevere by his side. She just so happened to be Arthur's lover, though she was only a lady's maid for now. Obviously, this was a secret, that was only known by the lovers themselves, and Merlin, of course. Around him were the familiar faces of noblemen, knights, and servants alike, all gathered to see the strangers to arrive from across the sea. The laughter and talking halted when the doors were thrust wide by Gawain.

"I give you, Beowulf, King of Danes and Götaland, and his daughter, the Lady Braith!" the knight's clear voice boomed throughout the silent and expectant room. Two figures came through the giant oak doors, and were met with great applause. The man was tall, and looked immensely strong, for his clothing showed off a pair of bulky arms. He was flaxen haired, and wore a leather circlet with a red stone in place of a crown. The very presence of the king was commanding. The young lady next to him was similar in only one respect - she too bore a leather circlet with the red stone. Where he was strong and bulky, she was strong too, but like a well-made sword that bends, yet doesn't break. Her hair was dark like ink, woven with lupine into intricate braids, her eyes such a gray-blue like starlight. But they weren't cold - on the contrary, they seemed to be laughing with some secret mirth that she knew something everyone else did not.

They were dressed in a foreign fashion as well - great thick pelts wreathed their shoulders, and bright golden broaches glowed against Braith's dress, suspending a necklace of mismatched glass beads at her chest. Their appearance was at once regal and primal. Something utterly new for the court at Camelot.

Gwen elbowed Merlin in the ribs to stop him from staring. "You're mouth was open so wide, I was afraid you might catch flies," the girl teased.

Arthur strode to the young woman, and bowed deeply, kissing her hand when he came back up. It was rougher in his own than he expected a lady's to be.

"Do you care for the first dance?" he asked like a gentleman.

"Alright. You are Arthur then, I take it?" Her voice was strange - the accent new to him. Her r's cracked like wind blown branches, her t's as final as dying flames. His name seemed to stick to her tongue.

"One and the same, My Lady. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Braith, please," she said, and took his hands to dance. She gave him a mysterious and curious glance out of the corner of her eye. "So it's true then. What they say?"

"What do they say?" Arthur asked, surprised. A barely hidden smile played her sharp features.

"That your handsomeness is rivaled only by your wit."

The prince's brows furrowed. "I was told the same of you."

"I know. It's what they're supposed to say for all betrothals," she whispered loudly, and they shared a laugh.

Gwen sighed in annoyance from across the room. "They're getting along well for this early in the evening," she stated hotly and crossed her arms. Merlin tried to console her, but the look of resentment remained engraved upon her face, as if in stone. He could not take his eyes from their young visitor, but for a different reason altogether. He watched her carefully practiced steps as she danced with the prince, the pale blue linen of her shift and dark crimson of her apron-dress spinning out at her feet. Merlin felt drawn in.

Every so often, when Arthur looked away from his bride-to-be, the warlock thought he caught a glimpse of bitterness in the girl's eyes.

---

"I was almost to the end, but when I looked back, I saw the sea stormy and roiling with serpents! There must have been ten or twenty of them at least, each one five times as long as a man, with fangs, and a scaly hide that no man could pierce," rolled the strong voice of the Dane King. Most everyone in the hall was rapt in the great epic, but Braith simply rolled her eyes and took a long swig of her wine. Arthur gave her a look of confusion from across the table.

"It's always the same two stories," she explained. "First the one about the swimming race and the serpents, and then the one about how he killed Grendel and earned the throne. Every time there's even one new set of ears, off he goes again."

Arthur was reminded of his own father's semi-constant bragging. "You don't believe it?"

She sounded tired and far away when she spoke. "Oh, I do. But not the way he tells it." Her face broke into a grin and she laughed lightly. "Perhaps the first forty times, I believed it like that. First it was three, then it was nine, and now..." She took another drink.

"Braith, be careful, you might end up intoxicated."

"No, no. It takes a lot more than one filled chalice to down a Northerner. And besides - this is nearly as weak as water."

Merlin watched the young Dane warily. He didn't know what it was, or whether he was just being paranoid - but the girl with the starlit eyes did have something to hide.