Stand Tall

Part Eight: To the Dungeon

Some days begin just a little too perfectly. Like this one - the preparations had begun for the wedding, and those who weren't bursting with excitement were dreading the day. To Merlin, it might as well be an execution for all the emotions it stirred in him. This was cruel, and unjust. People should be able to marry for love. Classes shouldn't matter, and there should be peace, if only because nobody wanted to fight anymore.

This morning however, these thoughts slipped away with the dregs of his dreamland. The sun warmed the side of his face, and thoughts of scrubbing armor plagued his mind. The real world. He rolled out of bed, put on his clothes, and donned a red scarf to contrast his blue shirt. Routine left him in a daze, not speaking much.

"You're awfully quiet," Arthur remarked, but Merlin didn't think much of it. "It's that girl, isn't it? The one you got the flowers for."

"I told you, there's no one."

"Oh."

"I hope there will be, one day, but I doubt it."

"Poor girl," Arthur sassed without regard for the other boy's feelings. Merlin just rolled his eyes, and nothing more was said. The young servant trudged through his chores until mid-afternoon, when the thin layer of fog had burned off outside. He walked back towards the rooms he shared with the apothecary, and decided to cut through the great hall. No one would be in there now. He was thinking about the She creature, and if there was anything else he could still learn from the treat. And if what Braith believed could really be true. He walked straight out into the middle, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. A dark blur, tipped with silver - a blade - flying straight at him! Instinct took over, and before he had the time to process what was going on, his eyes flashed gold. The fine Danish spear, for that's what it was, met a wave of magic, and stopped, midair, before clattering to the floor.

"...Merlin?" Gawain's voice came in shock. The raven-haired boy, had he been more observant, would have noticed the target set up at the opposite end of the room. He wouldn't have had to use magic - magic forbidden by the King, who also stood there.

"Arrest him for the use of witchcraft - Take him to the dungeons," King Uther declared. Merlin's mind had barely caught up with the quick turn of events, and his heart sunk all the way to his toes. He was going to be killed. Either way he would've died. Kept his magic a secret, and the spear would have got him. His head drooped as he resigned to this new fate.

"Wait," called out a familiar voice. "He did no wrong. It was me, I stopped the spear!" Braith said in a beat of calm. The words took a moment to register for everyone in the room. She had used magic? Merlin's heart beat faster, but with dread, not hope.

"What are you saying?" the King growled in disbelief.

"I'm saying that I am the witch. Look, I can prove it," the Dane said. Her eyes blazed the color of the sun, and the spear rolled forth on its side, across the floor to the bottom of great oak door. The King took a moment to overcome the shock.

"Forget the servant. Take her to the dungeons. She is to be executed at sunrise!" barked Uther. Then, more poisonously as attendants grabbed her: "I can't have my son marrying a heathen witch." Braith didn't protest as the knights dragged her away, still not quite believing it themselves.

"No!" Merlin yelled, but no one seemed to hear. He ran from the room and down the stairs, heart pounding, blood roaring in his ears. What was she thinking? What in the name of the gods was she thinking?

---

The guards were easy enough to slip past, and the young warlock scampered unseen down the hall. The girl from Dane sat quiet and unconcerned in her cell. Her eyes brightened when she saw him.

"Braith, what are you doing?" Merlin whispered.

"Saving your life," she replied calmly.

"But forfeiting your own. You're twenty - you've got so much to live for."

"I did stop the marriage. And besides, you're only a year my elder."

"Life is more important than being betrothed, Braith. You've got to get out of here." He was desperate by this point. He couldn't be responsible for her undoing. He rather be the one burned at the stake. The girl came to the bars.

"Merlin... Is there something you're not telling me?" she asked mysteriously. He got that same feeling from her.

"I...I couldn't sit by to watch you go up in flames. It's not my place to say, but you'd be the best queen this kingdom's ever seen," he choked out. Braith swam before him through the forming tears. His vision was blurred, but he saw her face coming towards him. He closed his eyes and hoped against hope that this was a dream.

Braith's heart was breaking for him, this boy who'd known her so little, but cared so much. A tear dropped to the floor, and she realized: She had less than a day to live.

As gently as the first flakes of snow, they kissed. Outlawed blood beat in their veins, magicians, shattered hearts fluttering with a young and foolish hope. Two secrets, never to be told. A love, never to grow old. Braith stepped back, coal-black eyebrows raised.

"Tonight. Be ready, by the gates of Camelot, and use what ever magic you have to. We're going to Dane."

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