Stand Tall

Part Two: Red Carnations

Thwap. The boot smashed into the back of Merlin's skull.

"Where's your head this morning?" Arthur shouted in disbelief. The very first beams of daylight leapt through windows to begin the waking of all the sleepers. Traces of dreams frayed at the edges of Merlin's mind, slipping away like water through his fingertips, as reality set in.

"It's on my shoulders, where it should be," muttered the dark-haired young man under his breath. Fortunately, he was awake enough to dodge the other boot thrown for this smart-alec remark.

"Merlin, I need my breakfast," complained the Prince. His servant was entirely confused.

"But I brought you breakfast..." he trailed off. He had for certain brought his master a platter from the kitchens...

Arthur stared at him for a moment, mouth slightly open, and a grin tugging one side. He thrust a plateful of dark red carnations into the other boy's arms. "I see what's going on here," he said smugly, a sneer plastered to his features. "Go on then - who is she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I was only wondering what flowers tasted like," Merlin concluded smoothly, and began to leave.

"Fine then, but you can't hide it from me. I'll find out who it is." The door shut in response. "Remember my food!" Arthur bellowed when his servant was down the hall.

---

"How can you make me marry that boy?" Braith shouted angrily at her father. They were returning to their temporary quarters after a short tour of the castle grounds. Uther seemed to have rekindled her doubts about what her people called "The West".

"You know we must make peace with these people," Beowulf spoke, his voice indulgent. "Binding our lands with one of the most powerful kingdoms in the isles will ensure that peace. Besides, this alliance will be a bridge for our settlers-"

"But Father, I am your only daughter," she protested, "and you would have me chained to a Christian prince? You know that under their law, I become not much more than his property! I will lose every last one of my freedoms in this marriage, how can you possibly wish that?"

His hands shot out and grabbed her wrists, holding her still as he stared into her eyes. "I know that this is not ideal for you. It is hardly ideal for me. However, the west knows our people now. We can no longer raid here as we once did, but the lands are still rich with gold and silver - and good earth. When you marry Arthur Pendragon, our kingdoms will be linked. What is theirs will too be ours, and ours theirs."

"I know," the girl dipped her head calmly. "But could you find no other solution?"

"None that would last," the king conceded. "Only the weaving of our blood will end the war. And," he said after a moment's thought, "you are lucky that he is your age. Most noble girls are not afforded the same luxury."

The young Dane nodded, biting her lip and letting her eyes roll back until they were closed. The ways of these people were so very strange - as rootless as air.

"Do you know what royal couples are made to do? After their hands are made fast?"

The king of Dane said nothing.

"They make us lie together, in a room filled with other men. All watching us." Her lip quivered in revulsion. "I would take a pagan man over this Pendragon - no matter what his age or birthright."

Beowulf looked sadly at his daughter from the doorway. "There are no pagan men left in England, little one. Or if there are, they dare not speak their truth."

---

The kitchens were bustling with activity, as usual.

"Get your dirty fingers off 'a my tarts!" shouted the red faced cook as she combatted Gawain's efforts of thievery. Merlin snorted and rolled his eyes. Knights stealing food from the castle kitchens was a regular occurrence, but a strange sight awaited him as he rounded the bend.