That very next morning Thalia stood in a deep blue dress in front of the king and his counsel. No sight of his ward or his son, perhaps they were still young enough to not have to attend such events. The physician was there and Uther had a staff proudly in his hand as well as a man beside him bearing a pillow. On it was a headpiece. Not a crown as such, she was not royalty. It was silver, not gold but it was Regal. It was more of a tiara, the way it would sit atop a head. At first glance it was a headband. Thalia guessed it could be worn either way.

'Do you, Thalia Brightsword, swear allegiance to Camelot?'

'I do, sire.'

'Do you swear to follow all of Camelot's laws?'

'I do.'

'Will you help Camelot's cause no matter how defeated it may seem?'

'Always.'

'Do you swear to always have strength, to provide wisdom and advice and to be a strong ally to this court?'

'I will.'

The determination in her eyes made Uther pause for a second. 'And will you protect the people of Camelot to the best of your knowledge and ability?'

'I will.'

Uther had to stop himself from smiling warmly at her; this girl was bringing him joy.

'Then rise,' he took out his sword and placed it on her shoulders, 'Thalia Brightsword, Crowned Warrior of Camelot.'

Thalia smiled to herself and stood in a graceful stoop. Uther then placed her headpiece in a tiara-like fashion on her braided hair and smiled at her. She returned it with bright eyes and turned to the small group of people in the council chambers who were applauding.

One week later and the rain was still visiting. Arthur had become fed up with only being able to step outside for a few hours before the clouds splashed the sky.

Someone had been given the chambers to the left of his and he had still not met them. There were new horses in new stables and new armour about his size in the armoury, as well as a fantastically stunning sword with perfect balance, throwing knives and a bow. This surprised him. While there was a new crossbow, there was also an ordinary one.

He looked out of his window to see the rain had let up and heard footsteps pass his doors. With ten steps he was there, flinging his doors open. The same grey cloak he had seen a week before was disappearing in a rush round the corner to his right. He tore determinedly after the fabric. When he skidded round the corner it was flicking round the next one down a staircase. He wasted no time. Round the corner, down the stairs. Down the corridor, to the right and… SLAM!

He had run straight into his father.

'Arthur, what the devil are you doing?'

'Oh! Sorry father, I was running after someone.'

Uther chuckled. 'Be careful, my boy.'

Arthur nodded and grinned before adjusting his feet and hurtling down the corridor once again, still slightly off balance. He stopped dead when he made it outside and noticed it had started raining again. With a groan he looked around for the grey cloak. When he tracked the person down he realised that they were going to the new stables.

'Hey! Oi! You!'

But the rain was pouring and Arthur could barely hear his own shout. So with a disgruntled sigh he sprinted out from the roof and to the small stable building quite a way off.

Inside, he looked round. Standing by a beautiful bay horse was the cloak. As Arthur bent over and caught his breath a right hand came out to stroke the horse's strong neck.

'Who are you?'

The hand flew back into the cloak and the hood turned first with the long tail swirling behind. From his still bent over position he squinted and could make the outline of a left arm dressed in a purple sleeve reaching across to the other side, no doubt gripping the handle of a sword. Arthur gulped. The hand and arm relaxed and disappeared to its original side.

Steadily Arthur stood up and took a few tentative steps around a grey horse to get closer. When it became clear that he wasn't going to be attacked he kept going until he was a step away from standing on their feet. The figure was half a head taller than him which didn't help his nerves. It was common knowledge boys always grew taller later towards seventeen. But even so, he was tall for his age. He had no idea who was under there but he had guessed it was a woman, going by the style and colour of the sleeves he had seen.

From under her dark cloak Thalia considered the prince properly for the first time. He was tall for his age, no denying. Blue eyes that would only get more colour as he grew, a spoilt demeanour but which was right now was fuelled by curiosity more than anything else. His eyes, behind any emotion he showed, always seemed to have kindness in them and a sense of calm.

'I'm Arthur.'

'I'm Thalia.'

Arthur's jaw dropped. 'You?'

The hood nodded.

'The Crowned Warrior of Camelot?'

Another nod.

Arthur let out a disbelieving gasp. Thalia smiled and lifted her arms up. Arthur, not being able to see anything else, noticed her slender hands. They clasped the hood and pulled it back over brown hair now in a braided crown. The young prince's breath hitched in his throat; she was beautiful. Her eyes had stolen his; blue and yet green. They were framed with curved brown eyebrows and strong cheekbones that belonged to a round yet angled face. He didn't know how long he had been staring. He just knew he had been for too long when she lowered her head with her perfect eyebrows arched higher in amusement.

'Ughhm…'

Her cloak shimmered as she moved her head forward slightly as a gesture for him to continue.

Arthur's panic must have shown in his eyes as he searched for something to say. He cursed in his head. 'Hello.'

Her head moved back to upright as he said the awkward word.

'Hello.'

Arthur managed to get a grip on himself. 'I've heard a lot about you. It's nice to finally meet you, … … um… my lady- I'm sorry; I've forgotten your name already.'

'Thalia.'

Arthur felt awkward again as he nodded, trying to be relaxed. 'Thalia. Th- Thalia…?'

'Brightsword.'

Arthur cringed. He had known that. 'Who's this?' He looked at the horse.

'Thunder.'

'Like the weather?' Arthur made no attempt to chuckle at his terrible joke.

But Thalia smiled, appreciating his effort. 'Yes.'

Arthur gestured to her side and she stepped to her right, letting him pass to the horse's head.

'She's a fine horse.'

'Yeah, she is. The name's a bit of a cliché, isn't it?'

'Perhaps but she was born in a storm and doesn't answer to anything else. It's a bit annoying really.'

'You'd imagine a horse with a name like that to be black.'

'Now that is cliché.'

Arthur laughed. 'My father is enthusiastically explaining to me how good you are in battle. I wouldn't mind seeing this for myself.'

'I agree. Shall we say after the rain clears?'

'Clears for five minutes or two hours? I don't think we'll be very lucky.'

Thalia shrugged. 'I'd say as long as possible, we may be fighting for a while if you're as good as they say.'