Author's note: This chapter has given me all sorts of trouble, but hopefully I've managed to smooth out the rough edges. Arthur has managed to nab himself a little slither of this chapter. There will be a greater variation of character POVs as this story goes on, but for now I'm mostly trying to establish Gwaine and Ragnelle's parts in the story. There's a teeny tiny bit of Shakespeare in there as well, as a hats-off to the brilliant new BBC film of Henry IV: Part 1 that I watched the other day.

Oh yes, and in terms of accuracy, I'm not sure if Merlin's world has yet established any laws of physics, but for the sake of comedy, I'm going to say it has. I apologise for the knights' stupidity in advance. I have no control over them when they're drunk.

Chapter 2

Ragnelle did not feel like feasting. She'd woken from an overlong nap feeling sick and weary, and with less than enough time to get ready for the banquet. What small hope she'd had of making herself look something more than ordinary had faded along with the evening sunlight, and she noted that no one had been sent to help her dress. A bath had been drawn, but whoever had brought it to the room had not thought to wake her while it was still hot, so now, as she slipped out of her riding clothes and into the tub, the water was little more than lukewarm.

Hastily, she rubbed the dirt and smell of horse from her skin, and when she was clean enough and could stand the dank water no longer, she towelled herself off and brushed out her hair. It wouldn't dry in time for the banquet, but she usually wore it plaited anyway. She'd had the foresight to pack her own belongings and so it only took a moment for her to find the dress she meant to wear; russet velvet and gold lacing. It was beautiful enough to suit the occasion, but there was nothing about it that would upstage Guinevere, or any of the other ladies who attended the feast. Ragnelle doubted she was capable of upstaging anyone, regardless of what dress she wore, but she knew tonight was important. She needed to look unintimidating; like she would never belong on a throne.

She slipped the gown on over her head and pulled the laces at the side tight. It was strange to feel silk and velvet against skin after she'd spent so long wearing only cotton and wool.

It didn't take her long to plait her hair, and when she was done she wound it into a coil at the nape of her neck and pinned it in place. She tried to pinch some colour into her cheeks, but quickly regretted doing so, as the pleasant blush she'd intended to create instead looked more like an embarrassed flush. She glared at her reflection, resigned to the fact that she'd have to do as she was. If she had been beautiful, people might have forgiven her for looking like her father. Instead, she'd just have to hope that Arthur wouldn't hate her for so petty a crime.

As she stepped into a pair of soft leather shoes there was a knock at the door.

'Come in!'

The door cracked open and a young man peered inside. He smiled at her awkwardly. 'I'm here to escort you to the throne room, my Lady.'

Ragnelle considered him for a moment. His clothing marked him as a servant, but she recognised him from earlier when he'd stood by Gaius' side in the council chamber.

'And you are?' She wanted a name to put to the face.

'Merlin.' He stepped into the room and closed the door. Ragnelle wasn't certain what to make of the action; she might have felt threatened, had he not seemed so completely unthreatening. She noted that he'd dropped the 'lady' at the end of his speech.

'Merlin.' She liked the name, but behind his smile she could see his doubt; he suspected her as well. 'I know the way, thank you, Merlin.' She turned away, dismissing him, but in the mirror she saw him take a step forward.

'Arthur wanted...'

'I'm sorry?' She turned back.

Merlin shut his mouth quickly, realising his mistake a second after Ragnelle had done. He was quick to recover, but they both knew it was too late.

'The King wanted me to escort you.'

Ragnelle pressed her teeth together and told herself to take it like a lady. 'Very well,' she said, smart enough to know that arguing would not help her. 'Let me have a moment.'

'Of course,' Merlin stepped further into the room when most servants would have lingered by the door. Ragnelle decided he was one to watch out for.

She picked a gold necklace up off the dressing table and fastened it around her neck. She'd had to buy it especially for the occasion, because the little jewellery she owned was too tarnished to be worn. The clasp caught in her hair and she winced.

Merlin caught her eye in the mirror. 'I can do that, if you want.'

He came closer and she dropped her hands away from her neck so that he could see. He reached out and started to untangle the loose strands of hair from the necklace. In a moment, she was free again.

She took a minute to pin the loosed strands back into her plait. 'Thank you.'

Merlin shrugged. 'It's fine.'

She wanted to like him, but she knew better than to make alliances too quickly. He was close to Arthur, that much was apparent, and that made him dangerous.

'I'm ready.' She turned from the mirror and led the way out of the room. Merlin pulled the door shut behind him and then fell into step beside her. Really he should have been two steps ahead if he was leading her, or two steps behind if he was following, but clearly he was used to being treated as an equal. She wasn't sure what this told her about Arthur.

'Is my brother being escorted as well?' Ragnelle glanced down the corridor where she'd left Galahad earlier.

'Leon's bringing him.'

It seemed Galahad was deemed enough of a threat to be worthy of an armed escort. Ragnelle was suddenly thankful that Merlin had been sent for her; he might be able to pry and eavesdrop, but at least he couldn't run her through at a moment's notice.

They reached the throne room and Merlin made to push the doors open.

Ragnelle's chest tightened. 'Aren't we waiting?' She had assumed that she and Galahad would swear the oath together. When Merlin looked at her, she knew that he knew that was what she'd been expecting as well. It seemed she'd been right not to trust him, but he had the decency to look ashamed at least.

Merlin pushed the doors open and then stepped back, so that she could enter first. Swallowing her shock, Ragnelle stepped forward into the sea of stares that would follow her from the door to the foot of the thrones. As she walked, she heard the whispers rise about her like a wave. She wished she could silence them with looks alone, but she knew she'd have to rely on her words. She could feel Merlin's steady presence two paces behind her; it seemed he knew when to fall into place. Ragnelle was surprised to be thankful for his shadow at her heel.

Arthur and Guinevere looked like characters from a fairytale; a noble king and his beautiful queen. Had Ragnelle been able to concentrate on anything other than putting one foot in front of the other, she might have looked to see if Arthur seemed at all nervous beneath his new crown, or if Guinevere appeared uncomfortable in her new place before the court. In that moment, however, it didn't occur to her that anyone but she might have felt the pressure of a hundred eyes upon them.

She reached the steps that led up the thrones and knelt on the lowest one. She knew what to do – Gaheris had been making them prepare for this ever since their father had died. Arthur looked down at her and did his best to keep his face neutral, but his stare, which she thought was meant to be cold, was filled with uncertainty. Ragnelle averted her gaze; this was her father's fault, not hers. She wouldn't feel guilt for a hurt she hadn't inflicted.

Geoffrey of Monmouth stepped towards her, scroll in hand, and Ragnelle turned her gaze forward. She waited.

'Ragnelle de Bois, you come to swear allegiance to the rightful King of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon, and his queen, the Lady Guinevere.'

Ragnelle pursed her lips, and wondered at what stage Guinevere had become a lady.

The master of ceremonies took a breath. 'You are also here to condemn publicly the treasons committed by your father, Agravaine de Bois, and to renounce any claim you may have to the throne of Camelot.'

She'd expected that, although in terms of legality such an oath was meaningless. She had no claim to the throne; Arthur's royal blood came from Uther, not Ygraine. During the last two years, however, Arthur had named her father as Lord Protector of the kingdom half a dozen times; Lord Protector and Heir Apparent. Arthur knew that it wasn't blood that made a king; it was loyalty. Making his cousins give up their imagined claim would serve as a reminder to his enemies that their allegiance was worth nothing.

From under her eyelashes she could see Arthur staring at her, and Guinevere staring at him. The Queen looked troubled. Ragnelle wondered if she realised that once the oath was sworn, she would be the only person capable of giving Camelot the heir it needed. Without a child of his own, and with his cousins dispossessed, there was only one other claimant to the throne, and she would never bend the knee.

'Do you, Ragnelle de Bois, swear to serve and obey your king, Arthur Pendragon, with honour and with courage, until your life's end?'

'I do so swear.'

'And do you swear to serve his wife, Queen Guinevere, for now and forevermore, until your life's end?'

Ragnelle thought of the blacksmith's daughter; of the maid who had served Morgana for so many years. She took a breath. 'I do so swear.'

'Do you condemn the crimes of you father, Agravaine de Bois, and swear that you will never commit any such acts of treachery against the kingdom of Camelot, for as long as you live?'

When Ragnelle thought of her father it hurt. 'I do.'

'And do you promise not to take up any claim that you may have to the throne of Camelot through the blood of your father's sister, Ygraine, and to serve the heir of the house of Pendragon for as long as you shall live?'

What heir? Ragnelle thought, but it did not matter. If Arthur wanted her submission, he would get it; wholly and willingly. Ragnelle did not want to die for a hollow crown.

'I do so promise and swear.' She looked straight at Arthur when she said it. He at least had the courage not to look away.

'Lady Ragnelle, you may rise.'

Her legs felt weak when she stood. She stepped back off the stairs and curtsied low before the thrones. Behind her the hall whispered.

Geoffrey of Monmouth indicated that she should step back. A space had been made for her beside the knights. She fell into line beside Sir Gwaine, who kept his eyes forward and did a very good job of ignoring her. She heard the doors open again.

They'd placed her well. When Galahad knelt on the steps before the throne, she was directly behind him, so there was no way for him to look to her for support. He swore the first two oaths without hesitation, but on the third he stuttered. Her stomach was churning and she began to chew her lips.

As the fourth oath was spoken she felt a light touch on her elbow.

'Relax.' Gwaine muttered. Was it a warning, or advice?

She released her held breath and her muscles became less tense. When she did this she seemed to shrink; she felt as though she was disappearing, but perhaps that would not be such a bad thing. She stared at Galahad's back as Geoffrey finished speaking the forth oath. Her brother hesitated. Her breath caught. She thought she saw Galahad's head turn slightly sideways. Was he looking for her? Ragnelle's arm twitched involuntarily and Gwaine's hand closed around her elbow: a warning. She waited.

'I do so promise and swear.' Galahad managed to say it without stuttering.

'Lord Galahad, you may rise.'

Galahad stood, stiff-backed, and bowed before the thrones. Ragnelle heard the titters of the courtiers behind her. Arthur was frowning, but Guinevere reached out and touched his hand and Ragnelle saw that when he looked at her she shook her head, just a fraction. She was warning him, as Gwaine had warned Ragnelle.

Arthur looked forward again, indignant but sated. 'Let us go and celebrate these oaths of allegiance, and toast the arrival of my faithful cousins.' He sounded uncomfortable speaking so formally.

The court bowed as one as he rose and led the way from the throne room to the Great Hall, Guinevere at his side. It was only as they passed that Ragnelle realised Gwaine was still holding her arm. She looked at him, and it took him a moment to realise the same. He let go. She didn't have time to think on it: Galahad was waiting and she stepped up beside him and followed the King and Queen from the the throne room, with the knights at their back. She only dared to look at her brother once they had stepped through the doors and were sheltered, for a just a moment, from the prying eyes of the court.

Galahad looked angry and upset. Ragnelle wondered if she looked the same; she didn't think so. For her, the oath was a relief. It might not prove her innocence, but it would help. Galahad had always felt injustice more keenly than she had, however.

'Don't let it get to you,' she muttered under her breath as the doors to the Great Hall swung open before them. He gave no indication that he'd heard. They parted again as they took their seats; she beside Guinevere and Galahad beside Arthur. They were honoured guests tonight, but Ragnelle understood now just how close they were to being prisoners.

XXX

The feast was starting to descend into the kind of chaos that came with a dozen barrels of ale. The knights had set up a wager that even Gwaine had to admit was more than a little bit stupid, and Percival was currently attempting to lift a chair above his head, whilst Elyan weighed it down with a cauldron full of water in his arms. Gwaine had wagered that Elyan would drop the cauldron before Percival dropped him. Leon disagreed. The bet currently stood at five pieces of silver and the morning watch.

Percival hefted the chair onto his shoulder.

'Whose idea was this?' Merlin appeared beside Gwaine. He looked flustered and mildly irritated.

'I'm going to say it was Elyan's,' Gwaine replied.

Merlin gave him one of those all-knowing looks that made him look about eighty. 'It was yours, wasn't it?'

Gwaine did his best to look innocent, although he doubted it convinced anyone. 'Someone's got to liven up the party.'

Merlin scowled. 'Well, I'm not cleaning it up when Percival drops him.'

'That's the beauty of it, Merlin; Percival isn't going to drop him.' Gwaine took two cups of ale from the tray of a passing serving girl and gave one to Merlin. 'The man is a miracle.'

'A miracle. Right.'

They watched together as Percival hefted the chair into the air and Elyan slopped half of the water onto the floor.

'Ha!' Gwaine pointed at Leon. 'You see?'

Leon shook his head. 'Not so fast. You said he'd drop the cauldron, not the water.'

Gwaine kicked himself for betting against someone as smart and as sober as Leon.

'Gwaine, what happened with Ragnelle earlier?'

Gwaine half-turned his head towards Merlin, but he kept his eyes on Percival, who was looking a little unsteady on his feet. 'Hmmm?'

'Earlier, in the throne room, when Galahad was swearing his oath?'

Distracted, Gwaine turned to look at Merlin. 'What about it?'

Merlin shrugged. 'Nothing, I just thought you said something to her.'

'Did I?' Gwaine turned back to Percival's battle with the rules of physics. He was reluctant to talk about that moment in the throne room. He wasn't sure what had happened, or why it had happened. It just had.

'I thought you did. I don't know, maybe you didn't.' Merlin was doing that thing when he pretended that he didn't know better.

Gwaine shrugged. 'She looked like she needed reassuring.'

'Oh, right...Did it work?'

'I doubt it. Her parents are dead, her eldest brother's dying and Arthur thinks she's a traitor. What does the kindness of a stranger count for among all that? Come on, Percival!'

Merlin looked a little overwhelmed. 'How do you know all that?'

Gwaine frowned. 'She told me.' Until now, it hadn't occurred to him how odd that burst of honesty on her part had been.

Quite suddenly, Percival, Elyan and the cauldron full of water went crashing to the floor. A woman shrieked on the other side of the Great Hall, and Gwaine forgot about Ragnelle and her troubles.

'You owe me five silvers!' He hollered at Leon.

Leon scowled. 'But I won.'

Gwaine swallowed what was left of his ale and passed the empty cup to Merlin. He was done with the serious chat now; he had a debt to collect.

XXX

Gwaine collapsed into a chair at Arthur's side and stretched his legs out underneath the high table. 'Arthur, I need you to get my money off of Leon.' He flicked his hair out of his eyes and offered the King his most charming smile.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. 'Gwaine, if you call me by my name in public again, I will have you locked in the dungeons for a week, without food.'

Gwaine shrugged. 'I can live with that.'

Arthur tilted his head thoughtfully. 'Or ale.'

Gwaine smirked. 'Forgive me, your majesty.'

Arthur glanced sideways to where Ragnelle was sitting, and then over to where the other knights were still arguing about who was going to clean up the mess they'd made. 'Why does Leon owe you money?' He wasn't really interested in debt collecting at this moment, but it was a welcome distraction from Ragnelle's presence.

'He lost the bet. The cauldron fell before Percival did.'

Arthur narrowed his eyes. 'I don't know. I would have said they fell at the same time.'

'No, the cauldron definitely fell first. Percival said it did.'

'Well, he would, wouldn't he?' Arthur was surprised to find himself smiling. Gwaine had that affect on people. He was at once impossibly irritating and unavoidably endearing. He took a swig of his wine and then picked up a jug and offered it to Gwaine, who accepted graciously. 'What does Elyan say?'

'I wouldn't trust anything Elyan says, he's very drunk.' Gwaine gulped down a full mug of wine and then poured a refill.

'And you're stone cold sober.' Arthur raised his goblet and Gwaine knocked his own against it.

'I'm just saying, the cauldron definitely fell first.'

Arthur sat back in his chair and contemplated the argument for a moment. Leon did seem to win the majority of the bets he made, but Arthur was inclined to put that down to common sense rather than dishonesty. Still, it didn't do a man any good to win all the time. 'Very well, what was the wager?'

'Five pieces of silver, and the morning watch.'

Arthur rolled his eyes. 'Gwaine, you aren't allowed to gamble your watches.'

'Why not?' Gwaine looked flabbergasted.

'Because whilst you're arguing about who's won and who's lost, Camelot might fall down around your ankles.'

Gwaine frowned and seemed to think about this for a moment. 'I think I'd notice before it was around my ankles.'

Arthur sighed. 'You get the silver, but your watches stay as they are.'

Gwaine huffed and then put his half-empty mug of wine back on the table. 'I'll stop drinking now then.'

Arthur smirked. 'That's probably a good idea.'

He was distracted for a moment as Ragnelle stood to leave. She hesitated, and then turned towards him and curtsied. 'Your Majesty.'

Arthur's smile fell. He nodded in return, and then she turned away and began to make her way towards the doors. He put his goblet back down on the table. 'Do you think she was telling the truth?' he asked Gwaine, who was likely too drunk to think on such things right now.

'About what?'

Arthur drew breath. The thought of his cousins made him uneasy. He couldn't bring himself the trust them, despite their oaths. Sometimes, he still found it difficult to trust Guinevere entirely. 'Do you think she and her brothers really knew nothing of Agravaine's plot?'

Gwaine flicked his hair out of his eyes and watched Ragnelle weave her way through the crowd. 'It's hard to tell.'

Arthur pressed his hand to his mouth. It seemed it was always hard to tell.

'She seems honest though.'

He looked at Gwaine, surprised. Gwaine shrugged. 'When I spoke to her earlier she seemed honest enough.'

Arthur's jaw clenched. 'So did her father.' He reached again for his drink and swallowed what was left in the goblet. Across the hall, Ragnelle had found Galahad and was trying to talk to him, but her brother didn't seem to want to listen. After a short while he said something to Ragnelle which Arthur guessed wasn't very polite and stomped away. Ragnelle looked after him, pale-faced, and then turned and left the hall.

Arthur's stomach dropped and he stood up, almost involuntarily. 'Gwaine, go after her. Find out what they were arguing about.'

Gwaine managed to stand without swaying and offered a shallow bow. 'Sire,' and then he was gone, tracing Ragnelle's footsteps through the crowd.

Arthur wondered if he was being ridiculous, or unfair, but then he remembered the city burning and the hatred in Agravaine's eyes, and he forgot how much it must hurt to be doubted. He was sure that it hurt more to be betrayed.

XXX

Gwaine quick-stepped through the crowd after the king's cousin, and did his best to blink away the tilt in his vision. He needed to be clear headed now; for Arthur's sake. And perhaps for Ragnelle's as well. On his way to the door he passed the sprawling puddle that he was probably partly responsible for. Leon was nobly trying to help Merlin to clean it up.

'Arthur says the watches have to stay the same, but the silver's mine!'

Leon looked scandalised. 'The cauldron only fell when Percival did!'

Gwaine turned as he walked. 'I hope you're not questioning King Arthur's judgement. You can pay me tomorrow!' He made a hasty exit before Leon could argue any further.

Ragnelle wasn't in sight when he left the Great Hall, but it didn't take him long to find her. She was on her way back to Morgana's old chambers. It only took him a few long strides to catch up with her.

'My lady.'

'What do you want?' It seemed she'd finally tired of common courtesy. Gwaine decided he wouldn't take it personally.

'The king asked me to escort you to your chambers.'

She stopped suddenly and Gwaine was two paces ahead of her before he managed to stop himself.

'Why?'

'Err...' The abrupt halt had caused Gwaine's world to tip a bit to the left. He tried to ignore that and focus on Ragnelle's face, but it wasn't easy. 'Why not?'

'Because I know the way. I don't need to be escorted everywhere.'

Gwaine shrugged. 'Arthur disagrees.'

Ragnelle didn't seem too pleased with that explanation. 'Why? Is it not enough that I knelt before the entire court and swore allegiance to him? Does that not prove my loyalty?' There was a fire in her eyes that he hadn't noticed before; kindled by anger and fear and the kind of courage that made a person say things they knew they shouldn't. Gwaine had fallen foul of that kind of courage more than once himself.

'No,' he said, because she was obviously too clever to fool with kindness, and too angry to believe anything but the truth. 'It doesn't.'

She pressed her lips together and stared at him a moment longer, before looking away and walking on past him. Gwaine swayed slightly as he attempted to follow her. He'd definitely had more to drink than he'd thought.

'You're a strange one, Gwaine.'

Gwaine frowned. 'How so?'

'You don't act like a knight.'

He wasn't sure if that was meant as an insult or not. 'What do I act like?'

'A fool.'

'Ouch.'

They'd reached her chambers and she opened her door and went to step through it without bidding him good night. Gwaine caught her by the elbow, as he had done when her brother gave up his claim to the throne.

'What is it that makes me a fool?'

She fixed him with that dark, steady gaze she'd inherited from her father, but in some way it was different: it was less calculating. 'You're being very kind to me. That in itself is foolish. It's like you said: our word is worth nothing. We're the enemy.'

'Are you?'

There was doubt in her eyes. 'Everyone thinks so. Every time they look at me, they see my father.'

'I look like my sister. I hope that doesn't mean I'm anything like her.' They stared at each other in silence for a time. Gwaine still felt slightly drunk and he let go of Ragnelle's arm to brace himself against the doorframe.

She wasn't very beautiful. It was a thought that had occurred to him when he'd first seen her coming up the steps into Camelot. She had a round, pale face and dark eyes that you didn't really notice accept when she was angry. He wondered what she'd look like with her hair down. Then he wondered why he'd wondered that at all.

Gwaine decided that he was looking a little too closely.

'What did you argue with Galahad about?' He cut straight to the point.

'Why would you care about that?' Ragnelle was on guard again.

'I suppose because the King thinks you're a traitor and that you were arguing about some kind of plot to overthrow him.' He pulled a face after he'd said that, because he knew he definitely shouldn't have.

Ragnelle laughed. He noticed her eyes when she did that as well.

'Well, if we were talking treason I wouldn't tell you.'

Gwaine shrugged. 'Arthur's not very good at subtlety.'

Ragnelle raised an eyebrow. 'Arthur isn't? You're the one interrogating me.'

'Well, if Arthur had known how to be subtle, he wouldn't have sent me, would he?'

Ragnelle was smiling, but after a moment the expression changed; became stiffer. She hadn't meant to let her guard down.

Gwaine breathed deep. He was starting to sober up. 'So, what were you and Galahad arguing about?'

She hesitated, and Gwaine somehow knew that whatever she said next, it wouldn't be the whole truth.

'He's still upset about our father. People seem to have forgotten that he was that to us before he was ever a traitor. We can't help that we loved him.'

Gwaine's jaw clenched. He'd wanted to trust her, but just then he'd seen the part of Agravaine in her that he'd missed before; the part that didn't need lies to hide the truth.

'I'm sorry you didn't have a better father.' He saw in Ragnelle's face then that she knew he didn't believe her. She might have looked sorry – maybe even a little guilty – but he wasn't willing to trust anything he saw in her anymore.

Gwaine stood up straighter and stepped away from her. 'You must be tired. I won't keep you any longer.' He didn't bow. 'Goodnight, my lady.' He turned and walked away without waiting for her to reply, and for some reason he regretted it, even though she hadn't been wholly honest.

He told himself that she was right: he was a fool to be kind to her. It didn't work.