I'm posting this as a sneaky preview to my underway fic - just a heads up, I will not be posting any more chapters until I finish the whole thing. ON the down side, that may take a while. On the up side, that mean when I'm finished you'll be guaranteed weekly updates. This is for tinyrose65, whom I rudely badgered about one of her stories (the one that inspired me to write my own Gwaine-romance story, hence the preview). I hope you enjoy this, please feel free to review, and if an update doesn't come in a while, never fear! I am writing, just not yet updating!

". . . and that was how I saved the noble Prince Arthur's life – again." Gwaine concluded with a dramatic flourish, mock-bowing in Arthur's rather irritated direction.

"You did not – I was – Elyan needed – oh, shut up." Arthur harrumphed, pouting in, Merlin thought with a smirk, a very diva-like way.

"You can't pull that one on me, brother." Gwaine waved his finger at Arthur merrily "'Shut up' may work on Merlin, but –"

"Hey!"

"Shut up, Merlin."

Merlin sighed, looking annoyed.

Gwaine laughed teasingly, glancing back at his friend in time to see him mutter "Turnip-brain," under his breath. Gwaine grinned. They were on their way back from (yet another) mission – to sum it up, Gwaine thought dryly, Uther had (yet again) annoyed someone, resulting in (yet another) skirmish that needed to be cleaned up by the Knights (. . .yet again). As usual, Gwaine knew that the King's surly disposition had caused bad feeling towards his reign, and he wondered how on earth Uther wasn't dead yet. This mission had gone better than usual, with only minor casualties and a touch of hunger on Gwaine's part (nothing unusual there).

Gwaine was just thinking about getting back to Camelot, where he could have a bath and some food – maybe together? – when a warning cry from Lancelot echoed through the trees.

"Stop! What's that there?"

Everyone stopped, and looked to where Lancelot was pointing. Snagged on a low branch was a piece of torn brown material. Arthur dismounted and picked it up, examining it.

"It's a piece of cloth."

Arthur jumped, not realising that Merlin was right behind him.

"Well done, Merlin! As observant as you are intelligent, eh?" Arthur bit back, looking embarrassed at being caught unawares.

"Looks like a piece of ladies' clothing from here." Gwaine said.

"How on earth can you tell that?" Arthur demanded, looking more and more flustered by the second. So far, his reputation as First Knight of Camelot was suffering some serious blows.

"Well, I don't know about you, Mi'lord," Gwaine teased "but I don't own any clothes that have a pattern of little dots on them." As Gwaine spoke, he pointed out the slightly crude pattern on the back side of the tear of material.

"Yes, well," Arthur frowned, loathe to admit that there was a banquet tunic in his wardrobe at Camelot that had butterflies embroidered in gold thread around the collar "she may still be around here. Fan out and search – look for tracks as well, she may be lost or injured."

Doing as they were told, the knights dismounted and started to fan out, Merlin sticking to Arthur like a shadow. Gwaine went slightly to the left of the tree where the material was snagged, scanning the ground for tracks, but the soil was saturated with water. If there had been footprints here before, the rain had effectively washed them away. Gwaine went until he was almost out of hearing distance of the other Knights – he as just about to call back that he found nothing, when something caught his eye. It was hard to see – so very easy to miss. The brown material was almost the same colour as the dead old leaves that scattered the forest floor. With an odd sense of dread, Gwaine stepped forwards, brushing ferns out of the way.

He pulled in a dry, rattling breath and resisted the urge to throw up. Twisted in the mud was a young woman, barely more than a girl to Gwaine, pale and still. She looked dead. Her body was wracked with injuries; her left eye was black and red, so swollen it was sealed shut, and her lip was bitten and cut. Her arms, bared through the tears in her sleeves, were severely bruised and had lacerations which looked suspiciously like knife cuts. Her skinny legs were in a similar state of abuse. She was painfully thin, her cheeks dark with shadows and her black hair plastered to her face from the freezing rain. For a second, Gwaine was lost in a chaotic haze of anger, adrenaline and repulsion. Who would do this? What monster would do this?

"Nothing here!" he heard Elyan yell from somewhere far away. Trying to be as gentle as possible, Gwaine slid his hands under her body – she's so light, she weighs nothing, I'm going to break her – and rushed back to the horses. The Knights stood to attention when they saw him approach, each stiffening and paling when they saw the state of the girl.

"She was lying in the mud," Gwaine muttered "in some puddle of rancid water. Left to die, like an animal." There was something bitter in Gwaine's mouth, and he spat on the floor.

"She's covered in blood," Arthur said "we need to get her out of those dirty clothes, see the extent of her injuries."

"Right, yes." The Knights nodded and looked expectantly at Arthur. He blanched back.

"I can't do it!" He spluttered "Gwen would kill me. And I'm the Prince." He added as an afterthought.

"You can't play the 'Prince' card for everything." Merlin said what everyone was thinking.

"Just watch me." He growled.

"And, since you're a claimed man, I'd say you're the safest of all of us." Gwaine argued, winking in spite of himself "Tamed beast and all that."

"Just remember who his girlfriend is." Elyan pointed out helpfully.

"Here to keep him in line?" Gwaine stage-whispered, pointing his chin at Arthur.

"Excuse me." Arthur interrupted "But shall we focus on the problem at hand, rather than discussing my private life?"

Everyone was silenced, feeling the need to be swift but also knowing with bone-shaking certainty that none of them were qualified to do this job.

"Merlin?" Lancelot finally spoke "It must be you. You are Gaius' apprentice – you would help her most."

Merlin nodded thoughtfully, having already come to this conclusion himself.

"Gwaine, I will need help with her. We need to set up camp." Merlin said to Arthur. Arthur nodded.

"Go to that clearing just there. Elyan, fetch some firewood – it may not be snowing yet, but it's not far from – Lancelot, we need food, enough for all of us, including the girl if we can get her to take some. She looks half starved. Percival, Leon, deal with the horses and beds."

It was taken as a given that Arthur would help Merlin, though he would never admit that he was under Merlin's command, even for then.

Gwaine, oddly reluctant to let the tiny girl go, carried her to the small space that was cleared for their camp, telling Merlin to fetch his bedroll before carefully placing her down. Gwaine brushed a limp strand of ebony hair from her face, wishing he knew what had done this to her, who she was.

"We must make some sort of – of screen for her. She deserves privacy." Arthur muttered.

"Here," Gwaine jogged to his horse, returning with a thin length of rope.

"Good thinking, Gwaine." Arthur said, taking the rope. In minutes, he had made a sort of tent wall between the main camp and the girl using the rope and his cloak.

"Ok," Merlin returned holding his bag "boiled water and clean rags. That's what we need first."

Arthur was gone before Gwaine could move, probably knowing what was to come next. Merlin held a small dagger in his hand.

"Here goes," he muttered, before starting to cut away her ragged dress at the sleeve. Gwaine's fists clenched. Her arms were covered in cuts and bruises in the shape of hands, scars criss-crossing her wrists from manacles. Merlin continued as if he saw nothing, his jaw tight, cutting up to her shoulder. Her collarbones and shoulders stuck out like silk over metal – she had clearly not had enough to eat for a long time. Merlin cut away the collar of her dress, keeping the centre panel to cover her chest and main body, but Gwaine had seen enough.

"Gwaine," Merlin said, and he found Merlin was looking at him in that odd calm way he sometimes did "go and see how the bandages are coming." Gwaine recognised the chance to collect himself and took it gratefully. In the main camp, Arthur was yelling at a pot of water over the fire.

". . . come on, boil you stupid – !"

"Merlin wants to know what's holding up the water and bandages." Gwaine interrupted.

"The water won't boil." Arthur seethed "It's magic – stopping us from boiling our water – it's sorcery!"

"Oh, don't you sound like your father." Gwaine muttered.

"What did you – ?"

"Sire." Lancelot interrupted.

"Yes?"

He pointed. The water in the pot was boiling away merrily.

"Watched pot never boils."

"Shut up, Gwaine."

"Oh! Scathing, Mi'lord."

Collecting the water and the rags that the Knights had collectively amassed from their tunics, Gwaine returned to Merlin and the girl in their made-up infirmary. As he pulled aside Arthur's cloak, Merlin swiftly pulled back his hands from over the girl's stomach as if caught doing something he shouldn't be doing.

"How is she?" Gwaine asked, setting down the pot between him and Merlin "Be careful, it's hot."

"I've – er – managed to stop the bleeding." Merlin stuttered.

"Really? How d'you do that?"

"Oh – you know – herbs in my – in my bag." Merlin patted his bag awkwardly.

"Huh," Gwaine nodded "Gaius must have taught you well. What do you need me for?"

"I need you to hold her head." Merlin ordered "I'm going to bind her worst wounds, but her head is the most delicate part. It can't be knocked – we still don't know the extent of her injuries. Not until Gaius sees her."

Gwaine did as he was told, sitting by the girl's head and gently placing it in his lap. Absently, while Merlin was working, he found himself stroking her hair, soothing her as if she were awake. He found it comforting to himself, anyway. When Merlin was done, Gwaine looked up at him.

"How was she injured?" Gwaine asked seriously, and Merlin was so taken aback by this change from his friend's usually merry tone that he told the truth.

"She's been attacked. A malicious attack. Someone who wanted to cause her pain, not just kill her. These small cuts to the wrists, thighs, legs – they're designed not just to kill slowly, but to be agonising."

"How do you know that?" Gwaine was staring to get that sick feeling again.

Merlin opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, then thought better of it "They were done by a serrated blade."

Gwaine's eyes went dead. He had encountered serrated blades before – the cuts they made were not clean, but ragged and easily got infected.

"There's more." Gwaine heard his voice as if from afar "Something you're not telling me."

Again, Merlin hesitated "From what I can see – she's the victim of – of physical abuse."

"Physical abuse? You just mean flogging or – or something?"

"No," Merlin said sadly, looking Gwaine in the eye solemnly "I mean worse. Much worse."

So, there we have it - please review to say what you think, i'm sure there are many typos i missed in my proof reading, too. Enjoy!