Chapter 11: The Wedding

Once again, Hunith found herself surrounded by her mother and several maidservants. This time, except for Seren, all the servants were strangers to her, employed by the castle of Camelot and sent in this morning to help prepare her for her wedding.

Her wedding. Hunith had to close her eyes for a moment at the thought. She had resigned herself to it over a year ago, but still… after today, it would be done, no going back… not that there had truly been any going back before.

At least the women around her weren't arguing over what dress she should wear this time. They had laced Hunith into a white gown with delicate silver designs embroidered into it. The sleeves were long and gauzy and a single blue gem hung at the waist.

It was beautiful, she had to admit. Back home, as they prepared for the wedding, designers had shown her several ideas, sketched out on parchment, and this was the one she had chosen- with some input from Merlin.

Now the women were working on her hair, pinning sections of it up, braiding others. The women from Camelot chattered cheerily amongst themselves, seemingly excited about the idea of a royal wedding. At least someone was.

What Hunith herself was feeling… it wasn't excitement. Deep down, she had always hoped to marry for love, as unlikely as that had seemed for a princess. Then she had met Balinor, and she'd be lying if she said that she hadn't imagined, in those few short months of their relationship, what it would have been like to marry him. But she had lost him, and with that loss, she had done her best to resign her dream of marrying for love to the realm of childish fantasy. The best she could hope for, she had told herself, was to marry someone she could be friends with.

Could she be friends with Uther? It was hard to imagine. She didn't hate him, she wasn't sure she had it in her to truly hate anyone, but…. she wasn't sure she could say that she liked him either. Truthfully, she barely knew him. In their interactions, he had been polite and courteous but he held himself at a distance, keeping a wall around himself as impenetrable as those that surrounded his castle. He was a cold man, and Hunith feared her marriage would be a cold one too.

Soon her family, save for Merlin, would return to Essetir. Even Seren would be gone, and Hunith would be left alone in a castle full of strangers. No, not alone, Merlin would be with her. Though Hunith was still terrified at the idea of what would happen should her son's magic be discovered, she was so grateful she had allowed him to convince her to bring him with her. She wasn't sure she could do this without her son. Camelot may be imposing and unfamiliar, but Merlin was a constant source of sunshine and brightness. She could endure anything, as long as she had him.

Besides, Hunith told herself, trying to think both practically and positively, Camelot wouldn't be full of strangers for long. Uther may be cool and remote, but that didn't mean others here weren't friendly. She already considered Uther's First Knight, Sir Gorlois, a friend. Surely she could make other friends too. Her mind went back to when he and Uther had visited Essetir. Merlin had said to her, the morning after the feast, that she should marry Gorlois instead of Uther. Hunith had smiled and told him that wasn't how it worked, even as a part of her acknowledged that such a match seemed preferable to her too, not because she loved Gorlois, but, well…. he was a lot friendlier than Uther.

Hunith shook that thought away too. It would be Uther she married today, and she would be glad to have Gorlois as a friendly face both at her wedding and after her family had gone home.

Maybe a fresh start in Camelot would even be a good thing for her and Merlin, Hunith told herself. Back home… everyone knew her as the princess who had had a tryst with a peasant, and Merlin as her illegitimate son. Here… well she knew her past was no secret, even in Camelot, but perhaps people wouldn't care so much, when they didn't have a personal connection to the story. And even if she was still judged, she hoped her son at least might not be. He would be the king's stepson, not just a boy without a father.

The servants had finished with Hunith's hair now. As a finishing touch, one of them settled a tiara upon it. Then Seren clasped a necklace around Hunith's neck. The women all stood back, and a hush fell over the room as they seemed to scrutinize Hunith.

"We're all finished, my lady," Seren said quietly.

Hunith's mother came forward, her eyes brimming with tears, "You look beautiful, my darling. Here, see for yourself."

She gently turned Hunith until she was facing the room's full-length mirror. Hunith's breath caught as she saw her reflection. She had seen the dress before, of course, when she was trying it on for fittings. But the effect was different now, with her hair done up and the jewelry accenting it.

Every jewel she wore was blue, to match the one on her dress, the necklace, the gems of the silver tiara, there were even tiny blue jewels threaded through her braids. She looked like… a bride.

"You look perfect," one of the maidservants from Camelot told her, with a satisfied smile, "you're ready now."

Was she? Hunith knew the maid only meant that Hunith's clothes and jewelry were done, but she didn't feel ready. In fact, the bodice of the dress suddenly felt tight, as if she couldn't breathe. She couldn't do this. What would happen if she fled the castle now? Called the wedding off and went home with her parents?

Then she felt a hand slip into hers. She turned to see Seren at her side, giving her a smile that was full of understanding.

"You can do this my lady," she murmured, too quiet for the other women in the room to hear, "I know you. You can do anything."

The tightness in Hunith's chest eased. She could breathe again. How had Seren known exactly what she was thinking? Hunith would miss that about her.

She gave Seren a tentative smile, "I'm glad you're here with me today."

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. One of the maidservants hurried over to open it. Hunith turned to see her father standing in the doorway.

He seemed momentarily lost for words, gazing at her in just the same way her mother had a moment ago. There were even tears in his eyes.

Then he cleared his throat and seemed to collect himself, "Hunith? It's time, my dear."

Seren squeezed Hunith's hand one more time, then quickly let it go.

"I must go take my place before the wedding starts," Hunith's mother leaned in to kiss her cheek, "Good luck, darling." Then she hurried from the room, Seren close behind her. The other maidservants quickly followed suit, leaving Hunith alone with her father.

She took a deep breath and crossed the few feet that separated her from him.

"You look beautiful," he murmured as he held out his arm for her to take.

Hunith managed a smile; her brief, wild thoughts of running away were gone and her nerves were again firmly under control. She linked her arm with her father's, "Thank you."

"Where's Merlin?" she asked.

Her father chuckled, "He'll meet us just outside the throne room. There was, ah… an incident that had to be rectified."

Hunith raised her eyebrows, but before she could grow too concerned, her father clarified, "He got into a bowl of berries and had to have his face and hands cleaned. By some miracle he didn't get it on his clothes, which is good or I'm sure the poor servant who was tasked with dressing him this morning would have become hysterical."

Hunith was surprised by the bubble of laughter that escaped her, "Leave it to Merlin. He does love his berries."

She was grateful to have her father's sturdy arm to hold as they walked down the hall. As they neared the throne room, she could hear music playing.

Just outside the doors stood Merlin, hands and cheeks freshly scrubbed, accompanied by a flustered looking woman wearing servant's clothes. She was holding tightly to his hand, but when he spotted his mother and grandfather, he tugged himself free and ran to them.

"You look really pretty,Mama," he told her earnestly, "Is it time to go in now? King Uther and Arthur went in a few minutes ago."

Hunith smiled, leaning down to give her son a one-armed hug, "Yes, it's time, Merlin. Take my hand."

His small hand slipped into hers, and the familiar feeling gave her courage. With her father on one side and Merlin on the other, she finally felt ready, as she had not when the maidservant asked.

Just then, a trumpet blasted, and the doors opened. There was a sudden swell in the music from inside. Hunith allowed herself one more deep breath, then she began to move forward, her father and Merlin still by her side, keeping pace with her.

As they passed through the doors into the throne room, Hunith could see Uther waiting for her at the end of the aisle. His outfit was his normal black, but over it he wore a bright red cloak with the golden dragon emblem of his crest, the cloak his knights wore. On his head was a crown, more elaborate than the gold band he sometimes wore. His son Arthur stood by his side, dressed in a red cloak that matched his father's, though Arthur's cloak bore no emblem; he wore a golden circlet on his head.

For the space of a few heartbeats, Hunith allowed herself to imagine that it was another man that awaited her at the end of the aisle. She could almost see Balinor's rugged face, his surly expression softening and melting into a smile when he saw her, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners and warming just for her…

And then the spell broke, and she saw only Uther once more. His expression held none of the imagined warmth of Balinor's. His face as he watched her approach was stoic, neutral. Hunith found her gaze drawn to Arthur instead. The boy was standing up straight beside his father, but his expression was nervous, uncertain.

She smiled encouragingly at him and for just a moment, the boy smiled back.

And then they had reached the end of the aisle. Hunith's father released her arm and guided Merlin away to stand with the rest of their family at the front of the crowd. As if taking this as a signal, Arthur too stepped away. Hunith's gaze followed him long enough to see him take a spot next to Gorlois and a young girl in a white dress who looked about his age. This must be Morgana; Hunith remembered Gorlois speaking fondly of his daughter.

Now it was only Hunith and Uther, standing before the officiant. She turned back toward her soon to be husband. Uther held out his hands and Hunith took them, feeling them close over hers, strong and unfamiliar. She looked into his eyes and she couldn't read what she saw there. She wondered what he saw in hers.

Uther stood silently at the front of his throne room, watching his bride walk toward him. It was impossible not to compare this day to his first wedding day. He had been nervous then (not that he would have admitted it to anyone), but full of joy, and a sense of disbelief that he had found a woman like Ygraine. When he'd started seeking a wife, he hadn't really been expecting to find love.

Now… he was neither nervous nor full of joy. He was simply…. resigned. This marriage was his duty, and that was all there was to it. As Hunith drew near him, he saw her smile, her gaze not on him, but on Arthur. His gaze moved to his son in time to see Arthur smile hesitantly back. That was a good sign, right? Maybe Arthur had finally accepted the idea of this marriage.

Hunith stopped in front of him, and Arthur moved away to join Gorlois and Morgana, Hunith moving a few steps forward to fill the place he had left at Uther's side. He turned to take her hands in his, and again, he couldn't help but think back to his first wedding day, how Ygraine had smiled radiantly up at him and how he'd thought that she had never been so beautiful, and he had never felt so happy.

Hunith too, was a beautiful woman, but there the similarities ended. She didn't smile, instead her gaze was searching, as if she were trying to understand something in his face.

Geoffrey began with the customary words, nearly identical to those he had said on the day Uther had married Ygraine, "My lords, ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate, by the ancient rite of handfasting, the union of Uther Pendragon and Princess Hunith of Essetir."

Though Uther's gaze remained on Hunith, he could feel Geofrey's attention turn toward him- or perhaps he only imagined that because he knew how the ceremony would unfold.

"Is it your wish Uther to become one with this woman?"'

The first time Uther had heard that question, his heart had skipped a beat, and his answer had resounded with joy he couldn't contain.

"It is," he replied calmly.

"Is it your wish, Hunith, to become one with this man?"

Uther heard a quick intake of breath from Hunith, but when she answered her voice was steady, with not a trace of hesitation, "It is."

Geoffrey then turned back to the crowd, asking if there was any dissent to the marriage. Uther's mind went briefly back to how some of the members of the council had reacted to his choice of bride. He knew some of them still didn't approve, but he also knew they'd never dare publicly dissent at his wedding.

Looking into Hunith's eyes, it crossed his mind that perhaps the two people in this room the most unhappy about this wedding were the bride and groom.

When the room remained silent, Geoffrey began to speak once more. He picked up the handfasting cord and began binding Uther's and Huniths hands together.

Uther found himself only half-listening to the traditional words, "... and by doing so, bind your hands and your hearts for all eternity."

Their hearts… when Uther had married Ygraine, he had believed those words, they had felt real. Now… he had long since closed off his own heart to everyone, save for his son. It was easier that way, less painful. And how could his heart be bound to Hunith's when it had already been bound to Ygraine's "for all eternity"?

As for her heart… Uther doubted it was in any way bound to his. Even now, her gaze was far away, and he wondered if the thoughts that haunted her were anything like those that haunted him.

In a way, Uther pitied her. He would have been fine on his own, had the council not been insistent on him producing another child, but Hunith… she was young and full of life. Surely she deserved a husband whose heart could truly be hers.

But, for better or for worse, they would be wed. He couldn't offer her his heart. His kingdom and a place at his side would have to do.

Uther was so lost in his thoughts, he nearly missed his cue to speak.

As he recited his vows, he tried to say the words as if they were more than just meaningless etiquette, to give them with… if not feeling, at least meaning. He couldn't offer Hunith love, and he wasn't sure he could promise her happiness, but he could, at least vow to respect her. She deserved that much from him.

Then it was Hunith's turn. Her voice held steady, ringing out clearly to the crowd as she made her own promises.

The ceremony was near its end now. Uther listened as Geoffrey pronounced them husband and wife. There was just one ceremonial gesture remaining.

It had come so naturally, when he had married Ygraine, if anything, the difficulty had been in making themselves break away from each other, and not let their kiss linger too long for propriety. Uther forced the memory away. He couldn't allow himself to think of Ygraine now, lest his resolve waver at this last moment.

He leaned in toward Hunith; the kiss was short, swift, just long enough for the members of the court to register it and start applauding, short enough for Uther to barely register the sensation of her lips under his, for him to not have to think too much about what he was doing.

Hunith's gaze was inscrutable as he pulled away. She was certainly not the perfect picture of a blushing, beaming bride, but then, Uther was no giddy groom. At any rate, their lack of enthusiasm seemed to have gone unnoticed by the crowd.

Geoffrey came forward once more to carefully slip the knotted handfasting cord off of their hands. Uther released one of Hunith's hands, but kept the other in his as they turned to face the crowd as husband and wife for the first time.

His eyes went to his son first. Arthur was clapping along with everybody else, and when he saw Uther looking at him, he gave him an uncertain smile. Next to him, Morgana seemed cheerful and confident, excited to be accompanying her father to such an important event.

Uther's heart squeezed slightly at the sight of his daughter… the child who would never know she was his. As his gaze moved to Gorlois, his prior feeling of longing mingled with shame. Knowing Morgana only from a distance was a just punishment for his betrayal of his best friend, and of his wife. Morgana had no need of Uther, she had a father, and a better one than Uther could have hoped to have been to her.

Gorlois gave him a nod, his gaze warm and understanding. He couldn't have guessed Uther's thoughts at this very moment- if he had his expression would certainly have been anything but understanding- but of everyone in this room, only Gorlois- and perhaps Gaius- might have guessed where Uther's thoughts had dwelled throughout the ceremony, how the echoes of his past, of his first wedding, had merged with the present, how Ygraine's ghost was everywhere today. He could sense everything it seemed, except Uther's guilt.

Amongst all the cheering and celebratory smiles, the silent acknowledgement from his friend of his private grief was a boon to Uther, a comfort. It was a comfort accompanied by another sting of shame. Truly Gorlois was a better friend than Uther deserved. But shame was not an emotion that would serve a king, and Uther pushed it away- as he had become so well-practiced at doing.

He nodded back, hoping Gorlois would understand his gratitude, and hoping too that he would not sense his shame.

He looked back at Hunith- his wife, now- and saw that her gaze was on her family. She blew her son a kiss and he giggled and blew one back.

When the clapping had finally died down, the musicians began to play once more, the cue for Uther and Hunith to walk down the aisle once more. They had entered the room separately, but they would leave it together, another symbol of their union. The crowd parted to let them pass, and one last memory swept over Uther. When he had walked this aisle with Ygraine, they had been unable to take their gazes off each other for more than a few seconds at a time. If the doors hadn't been opened for them, they probably would have walked into them.

Now Uther had no trouble keeping his gaze ahead for the short but slow walk across the throne room. In fact, he intentionally kept his gaze firmly away from the woman at his side, some part of him afraid that if he looked at her, the wrongness of it- the fact that she wasn't Ygraine, wasn't the one he had thought would be at his side forevermore, would crash over him and he would freeze, or pull his hand away from her and leave on his own. The last thing he needed was to cause an incident now, when the end was in sight.

It came as a relief when they had finally passed through the doors. He dropped her hand as soon as they had crossed the threshold, and only then did he allow his gaze to go to her again.

He felt he ought to speak, to say something to the woman that was now his wife, but the words would not opened her mouth, but it seemed as if she too could think of nothing to say, and after a moment, almost as if by mutual agreement, they turned away from each other once more and allowed themselves to be swept by the crowd toward the great hall where their wedding feast would take place.

Thank you for reading! Any reviews would be greatly appreciated.