Note: Again, I'm sorry ya'll… for being so inconsistent with updating. College has just been keeping me crazy busy. And the free time I have almost never goes towards writing now-a-days. But, I will say that when I woke up yesterday morning and checked my email, I found a barrage of review alerts on this story that had been forwarded to my inbox. And I've just got to say: Thank you filmyfurry and wolfienur . It definitely is nice to know that I've got readers that are so enthusiastic about my fic :). And in turn, that renewed my enthusiasm for it. So here, I've got a new chapter for you :). As always, r&r por favor. Hope you guys enjoy it! Sorry for the wait.

Cool water lapped up past her hips. Flirting with the loosely flowing edges of her linen undershirt. Tickling her waist as she waded further into the depths of the pond. Each slow and measured movement stirring up more silt from the bottom. Clouding the already murky waters. Further obscuring her view of the dark shadows that either stalled by her feet or danced about. Either way, evading the reach of her primitive spear…

Nothing more than a sharpened stick of birch.

"Hold… steady…" she heard a masculine voice muttering quietly. A good number of meters away from her, and yet still a distraction. But an ignorable one. Most of the time.

Raivierra fixed her green gaze on a grey blur that lingered by her right foot. It shifted to her left. She raised her pike a bit higher and aimed its bloodied tip several fingerbreadths below her target. One violent thrust and…

"Got you!" The sudden outburst from her companion startled her, discarding her aim and casting her point into the soft earth that lined the pool. Her mark immediately spooked and bolted from the scene—seeking safety in deeper waters.

A string of curses followed the hopelessly poor cast of Gwaine's pole. Giving voice to Raivierra's own frustrations. She turned just in time to see the whole of the man's body follow through on the throw, clumsily collapsing into the water.

He emerged with a snap—righting the balance of his body and sending a spray of droplets in every which direction. And her irritation was nearly completely forgotten. Stripped down to his trousers as he was, the glistening of his well-sculpted torso made him remarkably forgivable.

Yes, she'd seen bare-chested men before. But she was still a woman, after all… and he… wasn't a completely hideous man. He clearly took care of himself well enough.

"Guinevere?" The name he knew her by rang with familiarity. He had retrieved his makeshift lance (he certainly wielded it like one; the clueless lout) and turned to catch her eying him. Damn it. And that amused expression on his face did him no favors. "Are you quite done admiring... or should I turn around?"

That snapped her out of it. Smug arse. "Admiring?" Raivierra gave a sharp, mocking laugh. "I think not." What a sorry lie. "I'm simply wondering when it is you plan on quitting your jester's show and actually put some effort into this." she sneered teasingly.

"Don't be misled. This is my trying in earnest." Gwaine protested, raising his hands in defense against her verbal attack.

"Is it?...oh. Now that's rather depressing, isn't it?" she scoffed out dismissively. Adding insult to injury. She did have to give him credit, however. Even she wouldn't have stayed at it after several hours of failing to catch anything. She turned away, focusing her attention on another gray figure that meandered nearby. Straying from the school and drifting closer with each passing second.

"You wound me, woman." Gwaine feigned offense; going so far as to hold a hand to his chest. He gestured towards the bank where Raivierra had collected a modest pile of sizeable fish. "You clearly know what you're doing. If you'd simply come here and give a few pointers—"

"Not a chance."

"Fine then. I don't mind making the trip…" she saw him wading towards her as he spoke. Waist deep. Up to his chest. Then suddenly he was treading water, keeping his head just above the water. Cute—he thought the shallows of the basin were level throughout.

"And risk having you frighten away the rest of my prospects?" Raivierra spoke just loud enough for him to hear—still focused on her prey. She held up her right hand before returning it to the shaft of her spear. "I'd rather not. You'll stay where you are."

Gwaine halted were he was; his arms and feet swirling around in taut, controlled circles. "Here? Right here? Would you want me to drown?"

"It's not as if I haven't thought about it... frequently. But you do have your uses." Raivierra glanced at him briefly before flicking her gaze back down at the water. "Not all prey can be chased. You can't expect to run all of them down like game birds." She looked up at him again to take in his thoughtful expression. "No, these creatures are in their element. They have the upper hand. If you get their interest, they'll come straight to you of their own accord."

Gwaine was silent. That could hardly be a good sign. Again, she looked up and found his brows furrowed. A distant look to his face. Letting it soak in.

"Then you skewer it behind the skull. Show it no mercy." she hurriedly tacked that bit on. Hoping to clear any ambiguities—she was strictly discussing fishing after all.

"What's that?" Gwaine's face muddled with confusion.

"You asked for advice, didn't you?" Raivierra asked briskly, turning her attention back on the fish. Relieved to find that it had yet to move. She busied herself with positioning the head of the pike. Aligning it again, a small distance below where she perceived the creature to be.

"Wha—you mean with the… yes. I Appreciate it." He finished absently, still unsure of himself. And still treading water.

A solid jab.

The front half of the rod plunged into the water. It met with resistance. A wriggling, panicked resistance that fought her grip on the pole. Using a forward, scooping motion, she lifted the mediocre catch into the air. Where it squirmed feebly against the point that impaled its back.

"And that…" She turned to face Gwaine with a triumphant smile. This should ease the tension. "Is how it is done proper."

He didn't applaud her. Nor congratulate her. But rather, he cringed. A look of agony contorted his chiseled features.

"Don't be such a sour sport." Raivierra chided. He didn't respond. "Gwaine. Come now."

It was then that she noticed it.

The elongated figure swimming away from him. Retreating in a serpentine pattern.

And him. Now taking issue with staying above the water.

Tossing the spear and its dying décor aside, Raivierra hastened to his side. Swimming out to the struggling man. She laid his arm across her shoulders and took her arm around his waist. A few powerful kicks found them in shallow water, where she burdened his weight until the duo made it to shore.

There Raivierra left him and scrambled to her clumped bundle of clothing. A quick rummage, and one of her many knives was in her grip along with the neck of her waterskin. She hustled back to where Gwaine lay—his forearms stubbornly propping his torso up.

"Just my luck…" Gwaine gritted out through a pained expression.

"Where?" Her question was more of a demand than anything.

"My… back." Gwaine managed between grunts and groans. A cold sweat had already broken out across his face. Probably spreading across his body as well, but the pond water masked it.

Raivierra ducked around behind him. It took little inspection of his toned, muscled back to see it. Two puncture marks oozing blood from the back of his right deltoid. Now swollen and discolored with the venom of the snake. "You've been bitten." Raivierra 'pulled a Merlin'; stating the obvious through her grimace.

"Tell me about it… oh it burns." Again, Gwaine's words were growled through a clenched jaw. Taut by his own will—the venom had yet to spread its corruptive influence from the site of injection.

"Be still." Raivierra coaxed with soothing words as she often did with Loki. Laying a gentle hand on his rounded shoulder. She drizzled clean water from the pouch over the wound. All under Gwaine's watchful gaze—as he now craned his neck around to see what exactly was going on. Before he could stop her, she whipped the dagger between the small cavities. Allowing it to extend further in either direction and cutting fairly deep. Releasing a steady trickle of crimson fluid.

"What… what was that for?" Gwaine hissed in pain and surprise. His face reddening with heat.

"Easy, boy." Raivierra crooned. Evidently, Gwaine proved harder to convince than her stallion. Applying pressure around the wound with her finger tips, she forcefully pressed her open mouth to it. Heightening the poor man's shock no doubt. A coppery taste hit her tongue as she suctioned. Then the bitter, toxic flavor shocked her palate. Dizzying her, even. She pulled away every so often to spit—never allowing the mixture past the middle of her tongue, which was unshakably anchored to the roof of her mouth.

"Just my luck…" Gwaine repeated. Though this time, it carried a different tone.

"You damn well better hope I'll not catch anything from you." Raivierra half-jokingly threatened—muffled against his skin. She relaxed a bit. Now it was just copper that drowned her taste buds. She had acted on the poison quickly enough.

When she went back in one final time, something was different. Horribly off. The pungent odor of dirt and sweat overwhelmed her senses. Gwaine's firm, smooth expanse of skin (save for the occasional scar—though she found it curious that he did have fewer than she) appealed to her eyes. But it was the texture of short, coarse hairs that greeted her. And why did his witty reply sound so far off? In fact, she strained to hear it.

Wait.

Was that Loki's scream just now? Again. Louder than the first. As if he were right by her ear… but she'd left him back at camp. And he was nowhere in sight.

And then it was dark. Suddenly—and as much so as the deadened coals in a worn fire pit. Just as quiet—like she'd become deaf in an instant. And her body; rooted to the ground. Completely unable to move from the spot.

Vulnerable. Paranoid. Panicked... weak.

Damn it. That was one thing she wouldn't stand for.

She opened her mouth to speak. Anything. She swore she mentioned Loki's name. Called to Gwaine to place him. Yet no sound came out.

She closed her eyes. Calming herself. When she opened them, she was somewhere else.

A very familiar somewhere else. The camp site. It was light out. The first of the day; the tell-tale purple and pink hues of the sky smiling down on her. She shifted; garnering a neigh from Loki. Whose flank she was using as a pillow. Well. That explained quite a lot.

She glanced down to find Gwaine's bedroll… cloth… thing, tossed over her. And reeking of fish.

But where was he? Her eyes darted about the clearing. No sign of the man. But he couldn't have left too long ago. He'd gotten the fire started up again. And a newly whittled spit that was ready for use. Not to mention Keincaled, who was still tethered to a nearby tree. It'd be unlike Gwaine—from how she knew him, to ditch his steed. Though… she certainly wouldn't mind taking the horse off his hands if he had.

Footsteps. Just behind her. Who else could it be but the man she had just wondered after? He was walking with purpose. He came to an abrupt stop behind the horse. Something fell on her. Well, he dropped it.

Snatching it mid-descent, the crooked smile fell from Raivierra's face. Merlin's scarf. The one she'd worn until a few nights ago. "Oh, bullocks." Raivierra groaned out a curse before calling upon her exhausted body and springing cat-like to her feet.

"Good morning to you too." Leon's nonchalant address met her. Nope. Definitely not Gwaine.

At his words, four more knights stormed the clearing. Swords drawn as if they expected her to give them trouble. Or wanted her to.

"You've given us enough distress, don't you think?" Leon asked, sheathing his weapon. The puffy purple bruising under his eyes gave clout to his claim.

Raivierra held her hands up in surrender. "I suppose. Led you on quite the chase, did I not?" the corners of her lips fought against a smile that would not remain hidden.

"Nevertheless, we've put an end to your fun and games." When he spoke, two of the knights rushed her to secure either of her arms. While the rest steered clear of an aggravated Loki.

The horse had risen to his hooves. And not taking kindly to seeing his companion accosted, snapped at the nearest knights. Pawing at the ground like a bull, his heavy snorts threatened either a charge or a fierce kick. Neither of which would end well for any of these men.

"Easy, little beastie." Raivierra cooed to her ruffian. They'd done what Merlin had asked of them. And he might be needing them again at this time.

But there was the matter of Gwaine. The clod—and she meant that in a partial way. She assured herself he'd be fine. He was more than capable of anything—discounting fishing of course. Though considering the run-in he experienced with that snake, she imagined he wouldn't be too keen on giving it another go anytime soon.

Besides. She'd repay him for all that he'd done later. She couldn't quite shake the feeling they'd cross paths again. They already seemed to have this odd way of finding each other.

Not that she'd mind it. Too much.

She flashed a glaring smirk at Leon. "You think so, do you? I beg to differ." She cast a far-off look to the west. Where they'd be headed soon enough.

Towards Camelot. Towards the damn near closest thing to Home.

"Uther and his hag broad will have your head on a platter. I'm just the appetizer."

The doors to the council chamber flung open in the wake of the search party; they clustered around Raivierra more like a pack of wild dogs guarding their quarry than an escort. With Sir Leon at their head. They marched directly to where the king sat in his lavish throne beside the Lady Katrina. To where Arthur already stood to the side—an open look of plain malcontent on his face.

"They can't afford more of your taxes. I will not allow you to force poverty onto our people!" Arthur exclaimed, desperately trying to get Uther to see some point that the senior Pendragon seemed completely blind to.

"How dare you humiliate your king in the company of his men!" Katrina snarled at the blonde; her face warped with each exaggerated enunciation.

"Yes, question my authority on your own time in the privacy of your chambers, if you must." Uther immediately backed up his newly-wed—drawing a scoff out of Raivierra. This buzzard gave a whole new meaning to 'whipped'. He turned his gaze on the freshly-arrived troupe. "I won't have my knights subjected to your insubordination."

Arthur stared open-mouthed. Beaten and speechless. Raivierra might have enjoyed it on any other occasion. Oddly enough, his pompous arse seemed to be in the right this time around. "I apologize… father." He finally managed, and moved to duck away. Though the sight of whom he thought was Merlin stopped him in his tracks.

"You've found him then? The boy who took my most beloved family seal?" Katrina leapt from her seat like a child that couldn't wait to get her hands on a bag of sweets.

Leon hesitated. Clearly deterred by the scene he had just witnessed and desiring no berating of his own. "We… found the one we were sent after, sire." He deliberately addressed the king rather than the new queen. "But neither the boy nor the family seal."

"What could you mean by this?" Katrina demanded

Raivierra pushed past Leon at this and threw her hood back. That gave their noble arses pause. "I'm terribly sorry to disappoint like this." Raivierra spoke with a sarcastic twinge. "It just seems to be a trend as of late."

"What is this? Some sort of joke?" The older woman pressed, scrutinizing every detail about the woman in men's clothing.

"Sort of. A scapegoat to be specific." Raivierra corrected; her amusement making itself apparent in her voice.

"Lock her away." Uther interrupted. "She'll spend the night in the dungeon. There's to be a hanging in the morning."

"Father." Arthur stepped forward again. "That's a bit much." He was speaking on her behalf now? That came as a shock.

"What were you expecting? A slap on the wrist?" Uther glowered at his son. Still bitter from their earlier altercation. "She went to extreme lengths to aid and abet a thief that stole from the crown. That is damning." If anything, the fact that Arthur took Raivierra's side gave him all the more reason to condemn her.

"Where. Is. He?" Katrina spoke slowly and deliberately. The hostility rising in her voice. If this was her idea of intimidation, it was a rather sorry one. In fact, Raivierra took great pride in her self-restraint for not clocking the biddy right then and there.

"Search me." Raivierra shrugged and allowed a tightlipped smile to stretch her face. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"Cooperate and your punishment may be… delayed." It was but for a moment that Uther seemed to consider letting her off easy. How exactly did he find that offer incentive, again?

Hell, she'd humor him. More so herself, probably.

She took on a thoughtful look, pursing her lips and all that. "Hmm… lets see. Where would I look…?" She glanced at Arthur, who eyed her warily. He knew plenty well that putting on a show was an art of hers. After a good moment of silent deliberation, she perked up. As if she'd been struck by brilliance. "I'd check Gaius' clinic." She nearly lost it at the expressions on their faces. Confusion. Brimming with rage. Impatience. "Yeah? Already done that, have you?" She heard a couple of the knights behind her cover their chuckles. Then I really don't know what to tell you. I'm at an utter loss."

Arthur cast her a sideways glance before stepping in. Sparing her from the fuming Katrina. "I'll get her out of your sight."

Uther inclined his head in agreement. "You'll redeem yourself yet."

With a whistle and a wave of his hand, Arthur sent the knights- still banded around Raivierra, from the room. He tailed them from the council chambers down to the corridor that led to the dungeons.

Her foot fell on the first step to the final stairwell when Arthur spoke up. "That's far enough."

"Sire?" Sir Leon questioned, turning around with furrowed brows.

Arthur's jaw hung slack for a few moments as he matched Raivierra's calm gaze. As if reconsidering his decision. "Release her."

"Sire…" Leon took on a cautionary tone. "The king's orders were to—"

"I know what they were." Arthur cut the man off. "But they were made in the heat of the moment. And as crown prince, I believe I have a say in the matter." He squared his shoulders and grew more self-important with each word. "And I say that she is to be released into my custody immediately."

Leon sighed. His spine faltered ever-so-slightly. As if he could already hear Uther's outrage upon learning of this. "Your wish… " He turned to his fellow knights, gesturing for them to move aside. "You heard Prince Arthur. She's getting off."

Raivierra brushed past her guardians to join Arthur; making certain to Leon had a clear view of the complacent close-mouthed smile that curled her lips. "As I said. I beg to differ."

The pair walked briskly, side by side, down the opposite stretch of the hall. Letting the knights fall from their thoughts once they rounded the corner.

"Well that was a pleasant surprise." That would be the closest thing to a 'thank you' that she'd give him. When he was silent, she pressed the issue. "I'm that charming, am I? Must be to get a free ticket out of a stay in those homely cells."

"You do know I just saved your life?" Arthur answered her indifferently with an obvious question of his own.

"What?" Raivierra gave him a baffled look. "How do you figure that?"

"You were given the death sentence. In case you hadn't noticed." He made no effort to even look at her. It seemed simply speaking to her was a chore in itself.

"Oh, you mean that." Raivierra smirked self-assuredly. "I'd have found a way to escape. You just saved us both the trouble. Smart thinking on your part."

"You are aware I can change my mind at any moment and have you swinging from the gallows?" Arthur asked irately. She had finally tried his patience to its limits. He did give fair warning.

"Have I ever told you that you are just a delight?" Raivierra retorted cheekily. Riling him was simply too good to pass up. Especially considering it took a scarce amount of effort.

Suddenly he turned on her. Backing her against a pillar. He checked to his right and then his left before he turned his attention back on her. "Listen and listen well." He sounded awfully serious. "You'll need to get to the Lower Town tonight. You'll need a place to lay low. Seek out Guinevere. She'll—"

"Guinevere?" Raivierra gave a bark of a laugh. "I'm not quite sure that's such a good idea… sire." She paused to mull it over. Staying in close quarters with a woman she despised? Yeah… there was a good chance that wouldn't end well. For Guinevere, anyway. "No I don't think—I definitely don't think so. What are my other options?"

"There are none." Arthur's stoic face hadn't changed a nip this whole while. "You'll do as you're told and stay there until Merlin decides to show himself. When he does, we'll pay you a visit."

Bloody Hell.

… the dungeon didn't seem all that bad.

Note: Alright, that's it for now folks. A bit shorter than normal… and Hopefully it wasn't awful. Though I did do this all in one sitting—writing and editing. So don't hesitate to let me know if I missed something and/or made a mistake. I will say that I am looking forward to getting to seasons 3, 4, and beyond . Big plans if I make it that far :). Again, I truly appreciate any and all feedback anyone has to offer.

And on a completely unrelated side-note, SalsaStyle74 has requested/suggested that I share this image with my other readers. While I don't want to push a solid physical depiction of any of my OC's on my readers, I also recognize I do have amazing readers, and she took the time and effort to volunteer this of her own accord. I do appreciate the attention to my story ya'll. So without further ado, if you'd like to see what she thinks Raivierra looks, check this link: /r/97r2ht/5

Hopefully I'll be updating more often… no promises though :(