Thanks to FireChildSlytherin5 for reviewing. Over 20 chapters already and now that ep 12 has happened my vision of Morgana is more securely backed up

Ruth rolled over, away from the shaking. It was just a dream, she couldn't possibly be woken by her mother anymore.

"Wake up Ruth... Ruth, Wake Up. You silly girl" the commands modulated into loving insults, just as they used to. Ruth decided it would be worth actually looking and found herself staring up into her mother's eyes.

"Awake at last" Igraine turned slightly to face the door, her eyes wary.

"Mother?" Ruth sat up straighter

"I shouldn't be here sweet, I had to slip up the servants way" for a second some of the old sparkle came back, but it was doused. "Get up quickly, I've brought the dress you will wear. I didn't trust that Adelia to have anything suitable"

For once Ruth didn't argue, slipping her nightdress off immediately. But as she held up her arms to be dressed her mother shook her head

"And the shift Ruthie, only a thin one will fit under this"

Igraine watched as her daughter hesitated, then slowly, hesitantly... nay carefully removed her shift. As it fell to the floor she forced herself not to gasp, to remember that Christmas was for jollity; not anger and vengeance. Apparently paying no attention she had the dress on quickly and passed over the wreath that Ruth had made for herself.

"Thank you mother" the words were quiet

"See you very soon Ruth" Igraine turned and ran out of the servants door, light on her feet as always.

"Ruth... Mother wants you" Arthur's firm voice allowed his sister to pull away from Adelia and break for freedom

"Here I am Arthur"

He laughed at the childish grin on her face "Come on, you have to get to church and the others are leaving" Side by side they walked down to the courtyard where a full escort of knights waited with their parents.

As they walked in a long circle toward the cathedral more and more people joined, forming the long column that Camelot's Christmas was famous for. Pairs walked side by side...

Ruth glanced back briefly and saw Tom walking alone, he had no-one this Christmas.

The blacksmith met her eyes and a mutual sorrow reflected back and forth; she missing the unity and familiarity of an old life, in him it was simple grief of kin... his wife had died years and Gwen (all he had left) was as good as dead.

Gradually the royals and their escort slowed until all the column was past. At the last second before entering the church Igraine plucked the Ivy wreath from her head, motioning for Ruth to do the same. It was common knowledge that 'Pagan' festivity didn't go down well in the church community. But church rules only held power within their own wall, as long as garlands were off when the group entered they could do as they liked otherwise. At least Christmas services were more fun than the normal ones; more songs were sung.

Uther kept his mouth shut and marvelled as his wife stretched for the highest descant notes and struck them clearly. He had never been much of a singer and once they'd been married she had taken to elbowing him in the ribs when ever he tried to start. Ruth too had inherited Igraine's talent, she wasn't tone deaf like him. And they weren't singing 'the Holly and the Ivy'... Igraine had a habit of adding an extra whispered line to the chorus; Sweet singing in the Choir as long as Uther's not there. He wasn't hurt, it was truthful and always delivered with a small smile. Some were gifted with the arts and some weren't, he fitted happily into the latter category.

But as Igraine and Ruth dueted together he realised that everything was still wrong, the tune they sang was sad and slow. More like a dirge than a Christmas song. Oh why had he been so foolish to listen to Gorlois's 'advice'.

Igraine realised a ghostly silence hung as the song finished. Nobody met her eyes, they all knew some permanent wrong existed that couldn't be removed. Silently she placed her hand on Uther's proffered arm and they made a dignified exit.

Gaius cursed in his head, Christmas was supposed to be joyful but instead there was a dark silence hanging over Camelot. Ruth had only smiled once during the whole afternoon; when Tom presented her with a beautiful dagger and its sheath. The hilt had been crafted into a rearing unicorn who's tail swirled down to meet the blade. But even that happiness didn't last long; Tom was forced to revel that Gwen had stitched and embroidered the sheath so a silver dragon stood out... Ruth began to cry again forcibly reminded of the person she'd lost, who left a permanent hole in many hearts.

Long after Camelot had fallen into a wine sodden sleep sobbing still drifted in the west wing and out onto the courtyard.

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