GalanthaDreams: Don't worry about incoherency; it happens to me sometimes too, and I was happy to read your review. Thanks!

Warning: if you like Arthur and Gwaine too much to appreciate humor at their expense you may want to skip to the end of this chapter, because that's where the Mergana action is.

Gwen was making her round of the hall, refilling goblets as needed, when she spotted Arthur standing alone, watching Morgana mingle with a quartet of female courtiers and seemingly not enjoying himself at all. She sighed and made her way over to him. "Would you like a drink, sire?"

Arthur barely glanced at her. "No thank you."

Her timid stab at distracting him from whatever he was brooding over having failed, Gwen plucked up her courage and tried again, more forcefully this time. "Then perhaps you'd like to ask one of those ladies to dance, or . . . do something besides standing here staring at Morgana. This is a celebration - you're supposed to be having fun."

Now Arthur turned to look her full in the face, his expression incredulous. "I'm not here to have fun, Guinevere, I'm here to ensure my sister stays in one piece until she's married off to a sorcerer she barely knows!"

Gwen swallowed hard; disagreeing with the headstrong prince didn't come easily to her. "Maybe . . . maybe the situation isn't as bad as you'd have it be. Maybe this is what Morgana wants," she squeaked.

Arthur chuckled. "No, I don't think so. Like I said, she hardly knows Merlin, and he's a sorcerer. Morgana's afraid of magic. Of course she doesn't want to marry him!"

His patronizing tone sparked Gwen's usually quiescent temper. "Have you ever asked her how she feels about it, sire? I have, and I can tell you she likes Prince Merlin well enough." She bit down on her tongue to stop herself saying something more that she might regret later, such as: She'd rather marry him than you, you prat!

"There's no reason she shouldn't." This assertion came from Lancelot, who had joined them just in time to overhear the last thing Gwen said. "Merlin is a good man."

Grateful to have been saved from an argument with Arthur - Morgana could hold her own against him, but Gwen unfortunately didn't possess confidence in such reserves as did her mistress - Gwen gave the knight one of her ever-ready smiles. "Drink, sir?"

"No thank you, Miss Guinevere. I'd be honored if you would join me for the next dance, though."

"Me? B-but I'm supposed to be working-"

"There are enough of the staff here to keep everyone's goblets full, but I understand if you'd rather not dance with me," Lancelot assured her softly, looking crestfallen.

Gwen felt herself wavering. Knights didn't dance with maids in Camelot, but Sir Lancelot was such a nice man; she hated to disappoint him. And anyway, wasn't it her duty to serve those of higher status in any way they asked? And surely someone as upstanding as Lancelot wouldn't invite her to dance if his king would disapprove - he wouldn't want to cause trouble with the king, for her or himself . . . "Very well, I'll dance with you."

Arthur watched in disbelief as Gwen set her serving tray down and let Lancelot lead her onto the dance floor, then looked around to see if anyone else had noticed the knight and the maid going off to dance together. Surely someone would put a stop to it? But the only ones besides himself who seemed to be paying any attention to Gwen and Lancelot were a pair of commoners, Merlin's sharp-tongued friend and the maid Balinor had ordered to attend Morgana. Arthur stormed over to them and demanded of the girl, "Is he allowed to take advantage of her like that?"

"The king doesn't permit his knights to take advantage of anyone," Freya calmly replied, "but they are permitted to dance with whomever they please. I don't think Sir Lancelot's doing Gwen any harm."

"What's it to you anyway?" Gwaine wanted to know. "Why do you care what happens to a maid?"

"Guinevere is more than a maid to Morgana - she's her friend."

"So you're only concerned about her welfare out of regard for your foster sister?" Freya asked skeptically.

"That's right."

"Then if you didn't want her to go with Lancelot, maybe you should have asked her to dance."

"Um, I don't know that I wanted to dance with her myself . . ."

"You're never gonna get anywhere by pretending you don't care about her," Gwaine exclaimed. "Girls like it better when you fuss over them. I let my woman know I appreciate her, don't I, Freya?" He threw an arm around Freya's shoulders. Freya rolled her eyes slightly but let it stay there; Gwaine's antics after drinking too much at dinner might be annoying, but they were harmless.

"Oh, are the two of you together?" Arthur inquired politely, noting with some confusion that while the girl wasn't trying to get out of Gwaine's one-armed embrace, she appeared singularly unenthusiastic.

Gwaine nodded. "She's mad about me, she just doesn't realize it yet."

Freya huffed indignantly, shrugged his arm off, and stalked off, resolving not to speak to Gwaine again until he sobered up and remembered that she was not 'his woman'.

"I doubt she'll be realizing any feelings for you any time soon," Arthur commented.

"You could be right," Gwaine agreed, seemingly completely unbothered. "Until she does, I think you and I need a drink to take those girls off our minds."

Arthur didn't appreciate the suggestion that he needed his mind taken off Gwen - it implied that he fancied her, which was preposterous - but he couldn't deny that a drink sounded good. He summoned Cedric. Before long one drink turned into two, then three. By their sixth goblet Arthur and Gwaine were sitting side by side, the former alternately scowling at Gwen and Lancelot, who were still dancing, and Morgana and Merlin, who were standing close together and talking in what seemed to Arthur a conspiratorial manner.

"Why're you watching Merlin and-" Gwaine paused, struggling to remember the name of his friend's fiancée, but it eluded him. He settled for waving a hand vaguely in her direction. "-That girl? You don't like her and her maid, do you?"

"Father made me her . . . her chaperone until she gets married. It's my . . . duty." Arthur was now slurring his words slightly like his companion, and pausing periodically to marshal thoughts that had been scattered by too many goblets of the kingdom's best ale.

Gwaine laughed. "She doesn't need shaper . . . chaperoon . . . um, watching. Merlin won't try anything with her."

Arthur gave a skeptical humph.

"It's true," Gwaine insisted. "Me, I like to have a little fun with the ladies, but Merlin has this notion about 'waiting for the right one'. I asked him, how d'you know when you've found the right one, and he said some things that didn't make sense." He leaned closer to Arthur, as if about to share a great secret. "He does that sometimes."

Arthur nodded very seriously. Merlin rarely made any sense.

"I hope that . . . what's-her-name . . . is the right one, or he'll be right miserable . . ."

"Why shouldn't she be?" Arthur asked indignantly. "There's nothing wrong with Morgana! I mean, she is my sister, but she's pretty decent . . . for a sister." He drained the last of his drink and held it out to be refilled.

Cedric began pouring more ale, but then Morgana appeared, seized him by the ear and dragged him away. He dropped his serving pitcher, which rolled under the table, spilling its contents over the floor. Gwaine was sad to see perfectly good ale wasted, but happy to see his good friend Merlin. He lurched to his feet and grabbed the warlock around the neck.

"Well, I see there's no need to ask you how much you've had to drink," Merlin mumbled, his voice muffled by the other man's shoulder; Gwaine only hugged people for no good reason when intoxicated. "Will!"

Will hurried forward and helped Merlin free himself from their drunken friend. "You really need to stop drinking so much, mate."

"I hadn't had too much . . . but then Freya turned me down again," Gwaine said morosely.

"You really care about her that much?" Merlin asked in surprise.

"She's not like all the other girls - she's nice, and smart, and she's got those big brown eyes the color of . . . er-" he cast about for a suitable comparison and lit on something he saw a great deal of in the stables "-horse dung . . ."

"If you really feel that way, you should tell her sometime when you're sober."

"And leave out the bit about the dung," Morgana added, picking her way around the puddle of spilled alcohol. "No woman will find that flattering. My lord, may I suggest removing your friend from the hall?"

"Good idea. Will, could you please take Gwaine to his room?"

"How am I supposed to manage him on my own?"

"Cedric will help you." Morgana turned to the manservant, who was trailing after her like a whipped dog with its tail between its legs, rubbing his ear. "Won't you, Cedric?"

He nodded vigorously - any excuse to get away from Morgana was fine by him. He and Will each took one of Gwaine's arms, and between them steered him out of the dining hall. Gwaine grumbled a little but offered no real resistance, rather like a slightly bad-tempered, extremely talkative lamb.

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief when Gwaine was out of sight; he was very fond of the man, but Gwaine really needed to do something about his excessive drinking. "Now, what are we going to do about Prince Arthur?"

The heir to Camelot's throne had laid his head on the table and fallen sound asleep. Morgana smiled an evil little smile. "I think we should leave him there. He looks so peaceful that I'd hate to disturb him."

"But won't he be upset if people see him like this?"

"Serves him right for drinking too much," Morgana said firmly, and Merlin found that he couldn't argue with her. "Now, I believe I'm supposed to be celebrating my engagement, but my future husband keeps getting distracted."

"Well, he sounds like a right dollop-head. He, er, probably should have asked you to dance a lot sooner."

"He should have," Morgana agreed as coolly as was possible when faced with Merlin's adorable, sheepishly apologetic grin, "but if he would dance with me now I might forgive him."

Almost everyone watched them as they joined the dancers, so that for the moment Arthur needn't worry about being seen in his undignified position. Morgana was happy to have her prince's full attention at last . . . but then she saw something, or rather someone, who pulled her attention away. "Was that Gwen I saw just now? With Sir Lancelot?"

Merlin spun them around in time with the music so the couple was in his line of sight. "I think it is."

"Is that allowed? I don't want Gwen punished for dancing when she should be serving."

"She won't be."

"May I speak frankly, my lord, and trust that you will do the same?"

"All right. What's on your mind?"

"I believe that Sir Lancelot has taken something of an interest in Gwen, and I wish to know if I should be worried."

"What's worrying you?"

"His intentions for one-"

"You don't need to fret over that," Merlin said instantly. "Lancelot is one of the most honorable men I know."

Morgana searched his face for any hint of dishonesty, found none, and moved on. "Since Gwen seems receptive to his advances, my next point of concern is whether being courted by a knight would land her in trouble."

This time Merlin hesitated before answering. "It isn't . . . well thought of for nobles to openly prefer the company of servants over someone of their own rank, but Father's only as strict about it as he needs to be to keep certain people happy. Anyway, Lancelot isn't a nobleman."

Morgana was so shocked she almost fell out of step, only just correcting herself in time with a little help from her partner. "He isn't? Then how did he become a knight?"

"He's a skilled swordsman," Merlin replied, his tone suggesting it should be obvious.

Morgana shook her head slowly. "Uther would never knight a commoner, no matter their skill."

"In case you haven't noticed-" As the music reached its crescendo, Merlin pulled Morgana in close and dipped her so low that the ends of her hair nearly brushed the floor. "-Things are a little different here."

He set her back on her feet when the music ended, then asked if she wanted to dance again.

"I think not - I've had enough of being turned upside down for a while."

"Or we could go out onto the terrace; there's a good view from there."

The view of the palace gardens and the clear, starry sky was breathtaking, but so was the chilly night air; the magical barrier that kept the hall warm and free of drafts didn't extend past the wall of pillars. Morgana shivered and wished for her white fur wrap. When a sudden breeze blew Merlin's black cape toward her, she caught the end of it and wrapped it around her bare shoulders, to Merlin's amusement. "Too cold for you? You should cover yourself better when you go out."

"I am only out of doors tonight because of you," Morgana retorted. "It is beautiful, though."

"I'm glad you think so. I know you aren't here by your own choice and this place won't feel like your home right away . . . but I hope you can be happy here."

"Thank you, my lord. My first day here has been pleasant enough." Merlin's left hand was resting on the low wall around the terrace; Morgana tentatively laid her own hand over it. "I'm touched by your concern." She felt his hand flip underneath hers, and then their fingers were laced together. He was holding her hand for the first time. This pleased Morgana more than she thought it should, but she made herself appear unaffected and continued, "Between the Lady Sirenia and Arthur's and Gwaine's antics, though, I could do with a little less excitement at the next feast."

Merlin laughed quietly. "Funny, I thought exactly the same thing after my first night in Camelot."

She laughed with him then, and their hands remained linked.

Twenty chapters, and we're just now getting some hand-holding. I did say in the beginning that this would be a slowly progressing relationship, didn't I? No? Well now you know. Maybe in twenty more chapters we'll get to see a hug or even, if I feel particularly daring, their first kiss.

I hope all of you had a very merry Christmas, and happy New Year!