Author Note: Hello again everyone. It's the weekend, yay! Which means more time for me to post chapters, woop woop! Anyways, to answer a few questions and comments first of all...
sexystarwarslover - I'm glad you're liking the story so far, and I'm honoured that this was the first Merlin fic you chose to read. Makes me feel special, hehe. Hope it continues to entertain you as much as it has apparently done already, and don't worry, you'll begin to learn a lot more about Dante (particularly her relationship with Gwaine) over the next few chapters.
Reuben deFlash - Cool name btw. And don't worry, Dante's 'perfection' is all just a front. She has a few major flaws which I'll explore with her later on, and a few minor flaws that I'll explore over the next few chapters, but please, if you feel that even with these flaws, she's still too perfect, let me know! Because I don't want a one dimensional character or a Mary Sue as you put it, so if I start to stray down that path, please don't hesitate to point it out :)
Same goes for everyone else...constructive criticism and ideas for improvement are always greatly welcome :)
So in the meantime, lets get back to Arthur's birthday. As the Lady Morgana once said, "Say what you like about the food, but you can't beat our feasts for entertainment." And this feast, in honour of the King's birthday, will be no exception. Enjoy!
...
Later that evening, the birthday celebrations were well underway when Dante finally made her way down to meet with Arthur, for the first time. She could hear the sounds of joyful music and chattering voices from within the hall, as well as the clinking of goblets and pitchers and much laughter.
Leaning against a stone pillar outside the hall, she closed her eyes. A light breeze brushed across her face from somewhere, and she inhaled deeply, her eyes still tightly closed as her head thudded against the pillar behind her - which she quickly decided was a bad idea when the cut at the base of her skull began to throb painfully again, adding yet another thing to the list of reasons why this was probably a bad idea.
Was now really the right time to be doing this? She was dressed in Morgana's lavish emerald gown, and whilst it covered the extent of her bodily cuts and bruises, the ones that adorned her face were still painfully obvious. And not only that, but these were Morgana's clothes. What if everyone judged her before they even knew her, simply because of her choice of clothing?
What if they started asking awkward questions about her? Could she handle the pressure, or would she crack? She had a carefully composed story in her head, but if people started bombarding her with questions, this story could fall apart in seconds.
And what would Arthur be like? Would he be sympathetic and understanding? Or cold and cruel like his father?
What about Gwaine? It was true, they DID have a history together, and yes, perhaps she had been a little out of order towards him, back in the woods, but he deserved it - or so she tried to tell herself.
But would his presence in Camelot make things awkward now? Or would it make things easier, with a friendly face about the place, despite their past?
She would find out the answer to that particular question sooner rather than later, as the doors to the hall were thrown open briefly and someone staggered out, laughing madly. She could tell, even with her eyes closed, that it was Gwaine, and shook her head slightly. Clearly he hadn't changed one bit.
"Evening," he grinned as he turned and saw her leaning against the pillar, eyes closed. "You not joining the celebrations?"
"I don't know," she told him truthfully as he walked over, doing his best not to stagger, and leant an arm on the pillar. He was a good few inches taller than her anyway, and when she finally opened her eyes, rather than looking up at the ceiling, she found herself looking up into his big goofy face as he grinned stupidly down at her.
"Hello," he beamed.
"Hello Gwaine," she replied calmly, ducking out from under his arm as he collapsed against the pillar, looking very smug with himself all of a sudden as he folded his arms across his chest. She walked over to the nearby window - the source of the draft, she quickly discovered - and looked out into the darkness beyond.
"Hey," he frowned after a moment, as her words finally registered. "That's SIR Gwaine, to you...My Lady."
She rolled her eyes. "I haven't been YOUR Lady for quite some time."
"Ouch."
She felt, rather than heard him move behind her, and when he spoke again, there was no hint of his earlier drunken merriment. "Dante...?"
His hand took hers ever so gently, and she found herself being turned round to face him. Feeling the situation slipping rapidly out of her control, she took a deep breath, then forced a smile as she tried to regain control before it was lost completely.
"What are you doing out here?" she asked, trying to keep her tone casual as she brushed a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.
"Merlin mentioned that you were awake and feeling better now, so I was coming to find you." Such a normal answer, it caught her by surprise.
"Why?"
"Well, to invite you to the feast, of course."
"Invite me?" she repeated, stunned. He nodded, although the smile dimmed considerably and his brow furrowed.
"That is, unless you don't want to, of course?"
"No, I'd...I'd love to!" She quickly replied, afraid she may have ruined the moment. "Sorry, I'm just a little, I dunno...Surprised... That's all."
"Surprised?" Now it was his turn to look confused.
"Well yeah. I didn't really expect you to come and find me."
"Were you planning on coming to the feast anyway?" he asked, looking her up and down, seemingly for the first time. "Because you look beautiful, by the way." He smiled that perfectly crooked smile of his, and she felt the colour rushing to her cheeks. "I only ask because it just seems odd that I come out here to find you all dressed up for such an occasion, but apparently having second thoughts...don't tell me the great Lady Dante is afraid?"
"Of course not," she replied sharply, forcing herself to stand taller. "I was...simply wondering if this dress was the right choice...or if perhaps I should go and change."
"What's wrong with it?" he asked. "I think you look perfect."
Not really sure how she could reply to that, she dropped her head and smiled as her cheeks coloured even more. Trust Gwaine to have this effect on her. She needed to set him straight before he got any ideas.
"A word of advice, Gwaine," she spoke after a moment to collect her thoughts and force her voice to be filled with an arrogance and contempt that masked the fact she was flustered by his mere presence. "Your charms - such as they are - ceased working on me at least ten years ago."
She bit her lip then, afraid she may have hurt his feelings, but she needn't have worried.
"A challenge?" he asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement, mischievous grin reaching from ear to ear.
"A statement," she corrected flatly, looking back up sharply then turning away before she faltered and he saw her true feelings.
"We'll see," he grinned, stepping up behind her once more and speaking into her ear, his breath warm against her neck and sending a tingle down her spine.
"So, will you give me the pleasure of your company at the feast, Milady?" he asked in his silken, irresistible voice after a long period of silence, his expression unreadable. And then, almost as if afraid that she would turn him down, he added, "Humour me."
Turning back to face him, she smiled and nodded. "For the King's benefit," she told him sternly, and he nodded.
"Of course. You're here for Arthur only. My charms and godlike beauty having nothing to do with it at all."
"Shut up," she laughed, unable to keep a straight face any longer, as she looped her arm through his. "Lead on then, SIR Gwaine."
Matching her grin as the door was opened, he led her into the busy, vibrant and colourful world of Camelot's nobility.
"As you wish, My Lady
"I'm still not your Lady."
"We'll see."
...
Tristan, Leon, Elyan and Percival were standing together in a group near the King's table, chatting idly about weapons and preferred training methods as they waited for their fellow knight to return. But there was only so much that even THEY could talk about, before the conversation began to run thin and needed changing.
So Tristan being Tristan opted for a bout of Gwaine Bashing. That was always fun, and had proven to be the highlight of most mundane patrols, recently.
"So, any bets on Gwaine being rejected by the Lady?" he asked after a moment of awkward silence as they all shuffled their feet, looking into their half-empty goblets.
"Nah, Gwaine's a ladies' man," Elyan replied, shaking his head. "I'm not betting against him this time."
"Come off it, have you seen the Lady Dante? You've got to admit, even Gwaine's gonna struggle with her!" Percival chipped in, relieved they had something fresh and new to talk about - even though he himself often kept out of most conversations, choosing to listen and observe rather than partake. But in this instance, not even he could resist.
"Gwaine's not called the 'Maidens Knight' for nothing," Elyan countered.
"Maidens Knight? Who calls him that?" Leon laughed, before nodding his thanks to a servant that was currently moving round their small group, refilling their goblets for them.
"The Ladies of the Court," Elyan said smugly, pleased that he knew something the others didn't.
"And you know this, how?" Tristan asked suspiciously.
"Having a sister who used to be a serving girl has its benefits. Didn't you know that the first place you ever go if you want to find out the gossip is to the servants?"
"They gossip about us?" Leon asked, affronted, and Elyan smiled smugly again.
"All the time, apparently. They're very favourable of us knights...well...maybe not you..."
"Take that back!" Leon exclaimed. Then he dropped his voice and leaned in conspiratorially. "Are any of them as pretty as the Lady Dante?"
"No-one can hold a flame to her, I'm afraid," Elyan made a show of sighing regretfully, though the huge grin on his face betrayed the fact that he wasn't sorry at all. Leon's face fell for a moment.
"Maidens Knight," he muttered, then started to laugh at the very idea of it. Soon the others had joined in as well, though if they were being honest, they could not deny that Gwaine always had been a particular favourite with the ladies.
Percival meanwhile, had turned away from his friends and was taking in the surroundings, whilst listening to their happy banter with only half an ear. As he looked around the room, he took in the rest of the crowd in their fine gowns and regalia. The King's birthday was quite an occasion, after all. Long tables were arranged in a U shape around the outside of the room, though still with ample seating for those who did not fancy dancing. Colourful tapestries hung all around, the grandest of them suspended behind Arthur and Guinevere's table in the centre of the U, and candles burned everywhere, in holders carefully spaced between all the beautiful food and in great candelabras that hung from the ceiling.
The guests, dressed in all their richest finery, milled and mingled between the tables, and all he could hear was the babble of competing conversations.
He was just beginning to wonder what was taking Gwaine so long, when he happened to glance towards the door and gasped. "Would you look at that!"
The others all stopped their chatter immediately and followed Percival's gaze. He was staring towards the entrance to the hall - and everyone in the room had suddenly stopped their conversations and joined the ogling. Elyan peered round Percival's huge shoulder to see what everyone was gawping at...
...and gawped right along with them. His heart was suddenly in his throat and his jaw on the floor.
Because the Lady Dante had finally decided to show herself, stunning the whole party into silence, it seemed. Either that, of he'd simply gone deaf to everything else around him.
She looked supremely elegant in a deep emerald dress, with a thin, semi-transparent emerald robe over the top - exposing a great deal of skin, whilst also preserving her modesty at the same time.
Both robes were drawn in at the waist by the most elaborate golden belt, fashioned in the shape of leaves, and the golden trim around the neck of the dress mirrored this design.
The gloves beneath the emerald robe were sheer and embroidered with the finest gold patterning, and her mahogany hair hung in long waves down her back and over her shoulders. Small beads had been woven into strands of her hair, sparkling in the candle light. They set the outfit off in a truly regal manner.
Dante, oblivious to the effect she was having on the crowd, tossed easy smiles around the hall, like dishing out hand-outs to the poor. She was clearly aware of everyone's attention on her, including King Arthur's. Gwaine walked beside her, basking in the attention that the pair of them were receiving, a smug and very satisfied smile glued firmly into place as he held her arm in his.
Eventually the pair walked over to the King's table and she bowed low to the King and Queen, pleased with the entrance she had made. A party was a party, after all, and some things were worth doing right, no matter what the occasion.
"Your Majesties," she smiled politely. Then she looked at Arthur in particular. "I am sorry for the intrusion to your festivities, Sire, but it seemed impolite of me to accept such hospitality without even introducing myself to you and your Queen. And, more importantly, I wanted to wish you a very happy birthday in person."
"Thank you," Arthur beamed, delighted. Gwen sat quietly beside him, pleasantly entertained and already finding herself liking this stunning young woman. "You are too kind."
"On the contrary, Majesty. It is you who is too kind...taking me in during my time of need and providing such wonderful hospitality. I am truly in your debt. If there is anything I can do to repay your kindness, in any way, please inform me and I shall be more than happy to oblige."
"There is no need, Milady," Arthur smiled kindly. "You are a guest of Camelot. Though I am curious to your situation. Perhaps you can repay me with information?"
"It would be my pleasure, Majesty," she nodded readily. "Though with all due respect, it is not something I wish to discuss right now. This is your big day, after all. Who am I to interrupt?"
"Tomorrow then," Arthur declared, and although his tone was friendly, he left no room for debate. One way or another, he would find out what was going on.
"Tomorrow, Sire," Dante agreed, knowing there was no way she would be able to escape the inevitable, but merely prolong it.
Gwaine had been sending smug little glances towards his friends as they gawped and gaped in his direction during the entire exchange between Dante and Arthur, and now, sensing that their conversation had perhaps drawn to a close, he stepped forward slightly and cleared his throat, when suddenly the huge oak doors were thrown open and a man was escorted in by two guards.
"Your Majesty, this man claims to be an envoy of King Lot of Essetir," one of the guards spoke. The man knelt then, bowing his head.
"Your Majesty," he said in a deep gravelly voice.
Dante froze, her blood running cold and Gwaine saw the look of panic in her eyes.
"What is it?" he muttered quietly as the whole room fell silent.
But Dante didn't reply. She was already moving towards Arthur.
...
Arthur had never actually met Lot face to face before, so it only stood to reason that he would not recognize the man knelt before him now.
But Dante DID know Lot, and against all protocols, she moved round the table to stand beside Arthur as he and Gwen both rose from their seats.
"Sire," she muttered quietly to him. Guinevere shifted ever so slightly to listen in as well, as Arthur turned to her.
"That is not Lot's envoy," Dante continued in a hushed whisper.
"How do you know?" Arthur replied, also keeping his voice low.
"Because I spent eight years as Lot's slave, Sire. I, of all people, should be able to recognize the man himself, when I see him."
"You are saying that IS Lot?" Arthur asked incredulously, struggling to keep his voice down.
"I'm positive, Sire," Dante nodded.
Arthur cast a glance at Gwen then, as if searching for her advice. Gwen shrugged - the tiniest of movements that only Arthur and Dante could see. Then she nodded.
Arthur knew what she was telling him - the pair of them so close now that they no longer needed words to communicate - and stood up straighter. He motioned for Dante to step back behind him, a symbol of protection, which she obeyed immediately. He vaguely registered the movement of his knights as they quietly moved to stand on either side of the room, near their King, sensing that something was up, and ready to leap in without hesitation, should the situation demand it.
Lot noticed as well, but said nothing, still playing the role of humble messenger. But Arthur was no longer fooled.
"So, King Lot...you finally decide to grace Camelot with your presence," he spoke confidently into the room, and the man kneeling before him laughed, shaking his head.
"Figures the bitch would tell you," he spoke in his deep gravelly voice, rising to stand before Arthur once more, this time as his equal. "I am sorry for the deception, but if I had come as myself, you may have rejected this audience."
"Not at all," Arthur replied, forcing his tone to remain polite and formal. "Though I would have preferred you to come at another time, perhaps. We are in the middle of a celebration."
"I noticed, Sire. Your birthday, is it not?"
"It is."
"Then happy birthday to you. Or should I be paying my sympathies, instead?"
"For what?" Arthur asked suspiciously. All around him, the knights bristled like attack dogs straining at the leash, waiting for the single word that would release them, whilst the nobles cowered away, sensing some kind of confrontation between the two Kings brewing.
"Was it not on your very birthday that your father was murdered?"
Arthur clenched his fists at this comment, but Gwen placed a hand on his shoulder and he visibly forced himself to relax, choosing the high road and not rising to Lot's taunts.
"What can I do for you, King Lot?" he asked eventually, forcing himself to sound polite yet confident.
Lot did not speak immediately, but instead clasped his hands behind his back and puffed out his chest - an intimidating gesture, considering he was twice Arthur's age, twice Arthur's build and towered a few inches above the King.
But then, Arthur wasn't intimidated...not really. While he may have been shorter, slimmer and younger than the King, Percival and Leon were not. Percival's shoulders alone were twice the size of Lot's, and both knights were a good foot taller. Arthur made a point of glancing towards them and both men puffed out their own chests, allowing their cloaks to fall open to reveal the swords looped through their belts. Behind them, Gwaine, Tristan and Elyan all reached for their own swords and Lot visibly deflated, realising that intimidation would not work.
So he decided on a different tactic instead.
"You have something that belongs to me, Arthur Pendragon. I am formally requesting that you hand her over."
He looked pointedly at Dante then, as she tried to hide behind Arthur. It didn't take Arthur long to piece everything together.
The marks on Dante's wrists...the state she'd been found in...Lot's timing...the fact he'd asked Arthur to 'hand HER over'...
"You are referring to the Lady Dante then, I presume?"
"Lady?" Lot scoffed, and from her position behind the King, Dante's teeth and fists clenched in anger.
"She is mine by rights. She was sold to me eight years ago, and as you have not paid for her, she does not belong to you. So please, hand her over and I'll be on my way. There need be no trouble between us, My Lord."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Arthur feigned regret as he clasped his own hands behind his back and began to pace. "You see, slavery is outlawed, here in Camelot. As such, the Lady Dante was set free upon her arrival, and her contract to you has ended. If it pains you so much to 'lose out' on such a 'precious' investment, then I will repay you tenfold what she is worth. But no matter what happens tonight, the Lady Dante will not be leaving with you."
"You sound so sure of yourself, Arthur Pendragon. So high and mighty," Lot laughed. "What is to stop me from taking her by force?"
Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, Lot found himself faced by a wall of knights, fore fronted by those of the Round Table Order, who had placed themselves behind Arthur, and between him and Dante - an impenetrable wall of chainmail, scarlet cloaks and gleaming swords.
Lot backed off then, hands held high, in a defensive manner. From his position at the front of the wall of men, Arthur glared at Lot.
"If you want her, you'll have to go through us first."
"Wow," Dante breathed quietly, truly touched by the loyalty and fierce dedication of the men standing before her. She knew none of them - none except Gwaine, that was - and already they were willing to fight to protect her, placing themselves between her and danger. She'd expected this of Gwaine, naturally, but not of the other knights.
Gwen glanced at her from behind the table where she had remained this entire time. She smiled, petting Dante's hand as it gripped the wooden back of one of the other chairs so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Hidden by the wall of knights, this gesture went unseen by everyone except Dante, and those stood behind the table. Dante smiled back, finding reassurance in Gwen's kind eyes.
"You're safe here," the Queen told her quietly. "No-one is going to let anything happen to you - least of all Arthur."
"But I'm just a stranger...a guest in your kingdom..." Dante whispered back.
"No," Gwen corrected kindly. "You're a friend of Gwaine. And any friend of Gwaine is a friend of Camelot."
Dante wanted to say something else then, but was cut off by Arthur's loud, confident voice ringing out into the hall. "Sir Vidor, Sir Caridoc...please escort Lot from the Kingdom. He has outstayed his welcome."
"You'll pay for this, Arthur Pendragon. Mark my words!" Lot swore as the two knights stepped forward from the wall to escort him away. When he didn't immediately move, they took an arm each and began to drag him, eliciting shouts of rage, all the way down the length of the hall, and out beyond.
His shouts were finally drowned out when the huge oak doors closed once more, and Arthur turned back to Dante.
"You may come out now, Milady," he spoke gently as the knights spread back out into the room once more, the sea of red parting as Dante took Arthur's proffered hand and allowed him to lead her out from behind the table.
Taking advantage of the fact that nobody was speaking, and all eyes were still on him and Dante, Arthur turned to the audience of nobles, knights, guards and servants alike, who had all come to celebrate his birthday.
"Let it be heard and known, with you good people as my witnesses," he called out into the silent room, "That from this day forward, the Lady Dante is under the protection of Camelot! No harm shall befall her within these walls, and you will all pay her the respect and honour of a woman befitting her station. Any threats made against her will be reported to myself or my Queen immediately, and anyone making threats against her will be suitably punished."
He motioned for Dante to step in front of him then, and took both her hands in his own. "You are one of us now, Lady Dante. You need fear no more."
Dante choked back tears, and nodded, unable to physically say anything. Then she bowed low to the King. "Thank you, Majesty. I do not know how to even begin to repay you."
"Promise me that you will explain what is going on, and I'll consider us even," Arthur smiled as finally, the feast got underway once more, the music started up again and slowly the room filled with excited chatter - the incident with Lot giving everyone much to talk about.
"I promise," she nodded solemnly. Arthur let go of her hands then, as Gwaine finally came over to her.
"Enjoy the feast," Arthur told her. "Or at least, what's left of it."
"Likewise Sire," she nodded, before allowing Gwaine to steer her away toward the Round Table Knights, looping her arm back through his once more.
Elyan cast Tristan an 'I told you so' look as they drew nearer, and Tristan glared, glad that this time, he had not placed any coins on the wager. Otherwise he'd once again be out of pocket, to Elyan's favour.
...
The evening continued and the festivities only increased as the wine began to flow a lot more freely than it had done to begin with. Lady Dante, after recovering from the shock of Lot's dramatic appearance earlier in the evening, actually proved to be a most entertaining guest indeed - particularly when she entered friendly banter with others. She could certainly hold her own in any verbal battle, and her bouts with Gwaine proved to be the most entertaining, simply because of their past history together, and the fact there was still a chemistry between them, edged with enough electricity and tension that people could not help but find themselves drawn in to each and every 'polite' argument or 'difference of opinion' that the pair seemed to continually have. Copious amounts of wine probably had something of an effect on the pair of them, too, so that both were in high spirits when the evening finally drew to a close.
Dante did not regret attending the feast for one moment, despite the interruption earlier, and actually felt rather good about everything, all things considered. She was now an official member of Camelot, and everyone had sworn to protect her. What more could a girl ask for?
Gwaine escorted her to her assigned rooms after the feast, and after making sure that she had everything that she needed, he left her with a parting kiss on the back of her hand - a very chivalrous gesture, she had to admit.
Being a knight definitely suited Gwaine more than he'd ever admit.
As she changed into the delicate silken nightgown that had been left out for her by one of the maids, she thought back on the evening - in particular her meeting with King Arthur, and the way he'd so determinedly stood up for her, despite not even knowing her.
Sitting at the small dresser beside the window, she began to unthread the delicate beads from her hair, then ran a brush through it to smooth out the kinks. Finally she went round the room extinguishing each of the candles, except for the one beside her bed.
Sinking beneath the covers, she let out a long sigh, her eyelids already growing heavy. Today had been a long day, to say the least.