The throne room was unusually quiet tonight; Uther sat beside his mother and tried half heartedly for a good ten minuets not to turn to her a beg leave. He'd known it was coming, known this day was bordering on the horizon of the rest of his life. Yet, he was stood silently cursing his bad luck that at age eighteen; his bride was already picked out. Well, he had three brides picked out, he was to pick his favourite of the lot which meant three weeks of his life spent wooing giggling ladies and princess' and smiling false smiles at them in order to win them over. The trouble was it was a lot harder to pretend you wanted to win a girl over when all you really wanted to do was join your Knight's on the Training grounds, then spend the night finding someone else to lay with. Wives were so… Constraining? It wasn't like he couldn't have anyone else once the wedding had taken place but all the same… Shouldn't he at least have more option than three women belonging to desperate men eager to sell off their daughters in treaty? Another reason against this idea was his mother; the Queen of Camelot was as much use to his father as the old wench with her poorly constructed potions at the bottom of the valley. She did little in relation to working the castle; she made appearances around the cities and hosted dinners in a fashion only a woman of her education could pull off. But mostly, she was the docile figure, knowing and doing nothing and acting as though it were normal to see your husband as little as twice a week. Why would he want that? He loved his mother dearly and of course she had served the purpose of providing the next heir to the throne, him, but could he not just get someone pregnant, have his son and get on with it?

He'd about given up as seven struck and the doors first opened; the impending doom of the second of three women to enter this throne room.

"My King, I have come to inform you that your guests are now arriving."

"Very well, bring her straight here. It is late enough already, they will have to see the Castle tomorrow."

"T'is understood, My Lord." The balding little man stooped into a bow and walked out the door, still bowing deeply to the Royal family before him. Steeling himself, Uther sat up straight and braced himself for what he expected next. He could picture it now; she'd be small, fat, greyish marred skin and a high pitched voice he'd be forced with for the rest of the night.

The image of Lady Elaine so very fresh in his mind: She'd stalked him around Camelot during her weeks visit; she giggled at everything he said, even when he made sure it had not been in the least bit funny just to make sure that banshee like screech didn't reoccur. Alas, even when had spoken of a possible beheading she had nearly killed herself laughing so hard. It was alarming to say the least and by the Sunday, after she had visited the local Chapel, she had left him with, what he presumed to be her idea of a parting kiss and his, the idea of having an octopus suck on your lips and chin. He'd staggered back as far as polite and had not breathed until her carriage had passed the gates…

However, when the doors opened this time there was no woman in sight. A tall, dark but greying haired man and his blonde wife stepped in. They smiled and bowed to the King first, then his wife and finally Uther himself. In matter of politeness, Uther bowed back. The doors opened again and the room seemed to hold its breath as a third figure walked in. She was dressed in a gown of white; it tumbled to the floor and fanned out around her feet. Her hands were clenched in the silky material to keep from tripping up and Uther could just about spot the pale cream coloured shoes and the stretched white tights. The dress seemed to fit over her every feature with exactness he didn't think possible, not even for fitted clothing. But at the same time, as much as it revealed about how pleasing her body was to look at, she still seemed modestly covered. Uther raised his head slowly, taking her in inch by precious inch. Her arms were the palest of creams, her neck was long and swan like and around it a thin chained necklace, a precious stone shaped like a rose or else some other flower hung from it.

Then her face; He was sure he was looking at an angel or some portrait of a Greek Goddess. It was heart shaped her features soft and her eyes so blue they seemed to glisten on their own accord. He was mesmerised and even as he took in the delicate crown of flowers wrapped around the silver band, keeping the wavy blonde locks from her face, he thought he had not seen anything quite so perfect in all his life. But then she smiled, it was shy and directed to the left of Uther. He knew he was good looking; he'd heard it a thousand or so times but even still, in her presence and her inability to even look at him had him conscious as to whether or not she was disgusted by what she found in him.

"Sires, My Lady," He bowed to each in turn and then indicated the angel behind him. "My daughter, the Lady Igraine."

The King seemed unaffected by the girl's beauty and merely stood.

"Welcome to Camelot."

"Yes, Welcome." The Queen stood and glided forward to take the Lord's wife by the arm in greeting, his mother treated everyone as though they were old friends she had not seen and this family must have been forewarned because not one word was said, not one shocked look between them. "Let us feast, come my dear lady. Let us walk together and you can tell of you Kingdom."

The women walked off and it left now only Uther, Igraine and their father's. Igraine's however simply smiled again and then held out an arm for his daughter, she took it was wider grin than any he had seen yet. She seemed unabashed to look so childish.

Over the next few days Uther took every opportunity to be in her company but she hardly spoke a word, only to answer as shortly as she could and never once asked a question back. Though he was sure there was curiosity written across every glorious inch of her beautiful face. Perhaps he had found her fault, because there had to be at least one, even in an angel. She seemed to shy to speak her thoughts and whilst that was not really a bad thing, Uther so very much wished to hear her speak.

They would walk together, sometimes with their arms link but often enough with as much distance between them as one could manage without looking extremely rude. Today was no different than yesterday except that he only had an hour before training. They strolled through the gardens with the afternoon sun beaming down on them in a way that made her hair almost blinding to look at as it shined. He was running out of questions by now, he'd asked about Orkney, about her home and it's history, had started a conversation on music just to see if she would speak then but it only caused her to be more silent. It was getting awkward to say the least and for the past five minuets they had walked in a mutual silence, taking in the grounds, till finally she stopped walking. He almost didn't notice but stopped in time to turn and see her stood down to pick up a daisy that had been uprooted and left on the gravel floor. She was smiling as though it were more than a weed and twirled in her fingers before standing again. When she realised Uther had stopped and was now staring at her through a quizzical expression she opened her mouth to explain then simply smiled as she had been doing.

"Are you alright?" He asked as she reached his side.

"Of course." And the answer ended there.

"We have prettier flowers than those…" He offered and gestured to the gate at the far end of the path. "Through there is where my mother likes to spend her free time, she has many flowers there, I'm sure she would not object to you taking some of those?"

"Oh no, I very much like daisies, they are everywhere and you needn't spend time planting them or watering them." He was sure that wasn't a good thing but merely shrugged and watched as she pushed it into her hair and locked it under the silver band she had been wearing the day they had met. He smiled awkwardly and they continued, once more in silence…

"I must train later, will you come watch?"

"Train for what?" She asked, but her eyes were watching a nearby butterfly, she watched it till she could see it no more then turned to him.

"Knight's training." He replied slowly.

"Oh."

"I suppose you have seen many Knights training but you have not seen Camelot's men." He said with a laugh, proud to be apart of an undefeated army.

"No, sir, I have not. I don't much like fighting, but I shall watch if that is what you require."

It was the longest speech she had said to him and his mouth dropped open, he closed it quickly and managed to make sense of it before answering.

"I will not make you do something you do not want to do, Milady."

"That is sweet of you, but I am sure I must." He smiled again; at least she was honest rather than stood their giggling like Elaine had.

"Why do you not like fighting?"

"It is brutal and pointless." Her mouth opened in shock and she placed a hand over her mouth and let out a small giggle that was not suppressed. "Oh, sir! I am sorry; father did tell me to be on my best behaviour." He laughed again and shook his head.

"You had to be warned to do so?" She was beginning to sound far more interesting than she had before. She brushed her hair from her face, the yellow locks now curled.

"I do tend to say the wrong things." She answered truthfully and looked up at him with a mischievous smile. He laughed again and then motioned a bench across the lawns. Once they were sat he spoke again.

"Well, I shall not tell your father you disobeyed him then." She laughed, looking much freer than she had before.

"Thank you, sir."

"You can call me Uther, you know?"

"Oh no, sir, My father would be most upset to think I was not showing respect and I have already told one of Camelot's greatest fighters that I do not enjoy the sport, it'll only go down hill from here." But the teasing in her voice made him want to insist she dare to go against her father again.

"Well, if you do not like fighting, pray tell, what do you like so I shall prepare for something to do tomorrow?" She blushed and looked down at her lap. "Dancing? I suppose you enjoying music and playing? Or would you rather not play until the feast on Thursday?"

"I don't play well at all and my singing is nothing short of dreadful." She was laughing again. "No, no, I think it best for everyone's wellbeing if I kept my tone-death tunes to myself. But dancing I enjoy, will there be dancing at the feast?"

"Yes, there is always dancing."

"I shall dance with you there then, sir."

He tried not to look too pleased and she giggled again and looked away, her carefree nature was doing something unexplainable to his stomach, he'd never felt quite so affectionate toward anyone before, but Igraine was different. She had not spoken much and her beauty was unrivalled but all the same, Uther was already vowing to tell his father he would choose Igraine to be his bride. He'd have to see if she liked him just as well first.

Igraine had sat opposite him during the feast and every time her father would ask her a question and she nodded her head for an answer, Uther would smirk. Then catching his eye, she'd laugh softly and stare at her food so as to hide her smile. It felt like dinner would never end; as soon as one course ended another began. But finally the music was being played; the court musicians and bards were set out ready to begin. For the first few songs, as always people just listened. Then slowly they edged out onto the floor, Lady Igraine being dragged off first by her father, then by every other Knight daring enough to follow.

He stood slowly; and moved toward her and cut in with her dance with Sir Blayine. She moved into his arms elegantly, long before the Knight had even agreed and Uther was more than pleased she was so eager to get to him.

"You didn't notice me trip, did you?" He frowned first and then shook his head, not that she could see him as her chin was pressed against his shoulder as they danced. With a laugh she replied. "That's good, I shall hope no one else saw either since you were watching me closest." He tried not to blush and felt her laugh against him. It seemed her hope not to displease him had long since passed but strangely enough it did not bother him in the slightest.

"Are you looking forward to returning home?" He asked as they circled. She looked momentarily sad and then answered.

"Yes, but I think I shall miss Camelot when I return."

"Will you miss me?"

"If I knew you better sir, maybe."

"I promise then that you will get to know me better; then you'll have to return so as not to miss me."

She chuckled, "Hmm, very well but will you miss me?"

He chose not to answer and instead sighed, he would miss her and yet he had no idea why and if this was his consultation prize for getting married, he wasn't completely opposed to the idea.

Word count: 2, 445 (YAY! I didn't go over this time, but I did have to reword things a lot. Lol.)