Author Note: Just a short note this time, and two chapters uploaded, just to keep you going over the weekend :)

Everything's finally going right for Dante, at long last. But how long can it stay that way?

Read and enjoy, as always :) and thank you sexystarwarslover for your continual reviews...they're always great to read, and I look forward to them after each chapter :) They really make me smile! :D So glad you're enjoying it.

I have to admit I do have a bit of a surprise for everyone lined up for the near future...but more on that later, hehe!

...

The feast that evening was just as lavish and spectacular as Dante had imagined it would be - if not more so. As promised, Gwaine escorted her down to the hall where he then parted from her for a time so that he could go and sit with the other knights. Merlin took over then and escorted Dante the remainder of the way to her own seat beside Gwen. He pulled her seat out for her, made sure she was comfortable and poured her first cup of wine of the evening.

"Congratulations, Milady," he said quietly to her as everybody sat waiting for the food to be brought out.

"Thank you Merlin," she forced yet another smile, already bored of hearing 'congratulations' so many times over the last few hours. Then she looked about the hall. "Does your mother join us?"

"She does, Milady. She is over beside Gaius." Merlin made a point of nodding towards another of the tables a little way away, where Hunith was engaged in some riveting conversation with the old physician, by the looks of things.

"Would you pass on a message to her, for me?" she asked, glancing back up at Merlin again as he stood by her chair, on the pretence of serving her wine, even though her cup was already full. After all, if Arthur caught him lingering and chatting to Dante when he was supposed to be working, he would never let him live it down.

"Of course, Milady."

"Kindly tell her that I wish a quiet word, when the time is convenient to her. Preferably before she returns home."

"I shall," he nodded, finally running out of excuses to remain lingering by her side. Reluctantly, he bowed his head to her. "If you'll excuse me, Milady."

"Have a good evening Merlin," she smiled after him, even though she knew full well that Arthur would probably run the poor boy off his feet before the evening was over. Then, hearing Arthur say her name, she looked back to the King in time to see him and Gwen both glance at her.

"I'm sorry, what was the question?" she jumped, caught off guard. Arthur laughed.

"There wasn't one."

"Oh...sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"I'd noticed. You were too busy flirting with my manservant."

"I wasn't flirting!"

"Then why are your cheeks colouring?"

Dante coughed and looked away, under the pretence of looking for her drink and taking a long sip. When she looked back again, she'd composed herself once more.

Gwen was no longer staring at her, and had instead looked back in front of her as the plates of food began to finally arrive, but Arthur was still holding her in his steady gaze. Dante felt like she was under inspection.

"Is there something I can do for you, Arthur?" she asked at last in a casual, inquiring tone, choosing to drop the formalities as the three of them were alone up here at the Royal table and everyone else was already starting their meal and chattering loudly amongst themselves. The Royals were therefore alone and allowed freedom of speech...to a certain extent.

"I was just wondering if I should break you in gently, or throw you into the fire and see how you deal with the situation," he said, a sly quirk to one eyebrow.

"I hope you're not referring to a real fire?" she countered, slightly alarmed. This earned another amused chuckle from the King.

"I was actually thinking about a court hearing. Letting you take the reins and deal with some of the situations that the people present to us. After all, if - for whatever reason - Gwen and I are absent, the task falls to you to hear the petitions in our absence. I'm curious to see how you deal with the various situations."

"It was my idea. I think you'll be fantastic," Gwen added lightly.

"Oh thanks, Gwen!" Dante almost choked on her wine and had to take a few seconds to recover. Then all the colour drained from her face as she realised that they were both deadly serious. This wasn't all just one big joke, at her expense.

"You really mean it, don't you..."She said uncertainly. "I...ah...I don't know that I could...I wouldn't even know where to...I mean...Perhaps I could attend the meeting and observe how you deal with the situations first?"

"And where would be the fun in that?" Arthur exclaimed with a frown. "No. I've decided, the best way for you to learn will be to throw you in at the deep end."

"You do know that when teaching a person to swim, that's the quickest way to drown them?" Dante remarked, some of her old sarcastic humour returning as she recovered from the shock.

"Good job you're not learning to swim then." There was a pause. Then Arthur frowned. "CAN you swim?"

Seizing the chance to change the direction of the conversation before Arthur could find any more jobs to make her life even more difficult, Dante acknowledged this question with an answer - yes, she could swim - and for the next hour, the three of them very randomly debated about the pros and cons of the ability to swim versus the need for people to remain on dry land where they belonged. Not a very 'royal' subject, and there were surely better things that they SHOULD have been discussing, but the wine was flowing a bit too freely now, and they were in far too high spirits to talk about work. So, the random debates continued.

Swimming versus dry land.

Followed by dogs versus wolves.

Being too hot versus being too cold.

Which came first - the chicken or the egg?

And even which hurt more - childbirth for women, or being kicked in the royal jewels for men?

Dante had swiftly concluded THAT particular argument between Gwen and Arthur by offering to kick Arthur in HIS royal jewels. He'd curled away from her, further into his own chair and hastily changed the subject.

By the time people began to rise from their tables to mingle whilst the remnants of food were cleared away, Dante was very much bemused by the oddness of the past hour's conversations, but also slightly merry on the wine that Merlin had kept refilling for her, so perhaps this was the source of her bemusement, instead?

Still, her distraction had worked, much like Gwen's own tactics earlier that very same day, and Arthur had completely forgotten about finding more duties for her.

Now, if only she could shift this headache that'd she'd been enduring since breakfast that morning, things would be wonderful and she might actually be able to enjoy the evening.

...

Gwaine had been watching Dante sitting up at the High Table all evening. She appeared to be enjoying herself, at least. One moment she'd be laughing at something or other, he'd look away, look back and see that now she was arguing vehemently about something else. Then when he'd look back again, she'd be laughing once more. Whatever conversation she was holding with the Royals, it was apparently riveting, because she had not once glanced in his direction. Still, that didn't stop him from watching her and hoping, all the same.

Eventually he decided to make the first move, and saw his chance, standing from his seat and excusing himself from Percival and Tristan, who he'd been conversing with until that moment. They gave him curious looks, but then seeing what he'd just seen, their curiosity gave way to amusement.

Because Dante had also just excused herself from her conversation with Arthur and Gwen, and was heading towards the door out of the hall, slipping quietly away so as not to be noticed by the other nobles.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked as he caught up to her just outside in the corridor and slid quietly beside her.

Dante gasped and spun on the spot, then seeing who it was, breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, it's you."

"Charming!" He feigned insult.

And that was when he noticed her slightly pained expression and rosy cheeks. He frowned. "Everything alright?"

"Yes, perfectly," she said, quickly hiding her pain behind a rather sweet smile, if he did say so himself. "I just need some air. It's getting a little stuffy in there."

Realising that she wasn't wrong about that, Gwaine tugged at the collar of his shirt and nodded. "Just a little." Feeling the sweat at the back of his neck as he loosened his cape, he tried to blow a stray strand of hair out of his eyes, but to no effect. Dante forcefully held back a laugh - it was a struggle for her, he could tell - and reached up to brush it away with her fingertips. Her delicate touch sent a shiver down his spine.

And then she frowned and looked away as they started to walk side by side, and he could see the look of pain return.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" he asked again as they both paused by the doors leading out to the courtyard. "You do look a little flushed." As he spoke, hardly even aware of the motion, he reached out and stroked her cheek tenderly. He nearly pulled back when he realized what he was doing, but since she didn't object, he let himself move closer to her, his hand moving over the curve of her cheekbone to stroke a stray hair from her own eyes.

"I'm fine," she insisted eventually, and he couldn't fail to notice that her voice had taken on a considerably husky tone – one that sent a shiver down his spine again. "Just a little hot."

"In more ways than one," he grinned.

She grinned in embarrassment and her cheeks flushed an even brighter shade of pink as they started to walk again, towards the well in the centre of the courtyard, both walking much closer to each other than they had been before – Dante holding on a little firmer to his arm, whilst he rested his other hand on top.

...

They eventually reached the well as the snow continued to flutter lightly down around them, and both took a seat on the low stone wall, breathing in the welcome - if very chilly - air. Within a matter of minutes their footprints through the snow had vanished, though the snow was not falling nearly half as heavy as it had been that night when Dante had made her midnight trek to Morgana's hut.

It was cold out, but Gwaine had the thick padding of his undershirts and the heavy chainmail to keep him warm, and he'd very chivalrously given Dante his cloak to wrap up in, so neither were that bothered by the temperature. If anything, the snow made everything that much more beautiful, and dare they admit it - even romantic.

Gwaine watched Dante for a long moment as she picked up a few loose stones by their feet and dropped them into the well, watching in quiet fascination as the ripples spread out, distorting the reflection of the moon way down in the water below them.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked at last, though she didn't turn her eyes from the ripples in the water.

"Me?" he asked, caught off guard by her question.

This did draw her attention and she glanced sideways at him, eyebrows raised. "Well I'm hardly going to ask myself, am I?"

He laughed, realising how stupid he must have looked to her at that moment in time, and then sighed. "Yeah alright, point taken."

"So?" she pushed, gently.

"Well," he started, wondering how to voice his thoughts. "I'm kind of wondering...why you let me get away with talking to you the way I do, especially now that you're Camelot's First Lady. Anyone else would have had me thrown in the stocks, or a cell by now."

Dante laughed, and this time it was his turn to raise his eyebrows.

"I sometimes wonder that myself," she admitted at last. But then she grinned. "I guess...it's because I know you don't mean what you say." Catching his eye, she quickly added, "Most of the time. Besides, you're witty and smart. Bickering with you is actually quite fun, believe it or not. Because it's never serious. And you can give as good as you get, which is always a bonus."

"Likewise," he grinned.

They sat in silence for a while longer, Dante going back to making ripples dance gently across the surface of the water below, whilst Gwaine was content to just watch her instead. Something inside him was telling him that he needed to do something, however. Be a gentleman...say something, before she grew bored of his company and went back inside.

"So, Milady," he said at last, clearing his throat, having finally decided what he wanted to say. She looked up at him, her face a mixture of naive innocence and curiosity, and he felt his heart skip a beat as he looked into her beautiful mahogany eyes. Then, remembering what he was supposed to be doing, he cleared his throat again.

"How does it feel to be the second most powerful woman in the entire Kingdom."

"Please, don't remind me," she groaned. "I've just spent all evening trying to forget."

"You really don't like this honour you've been given, do you."

"It's not an honour, it's a duty...a chore! And it involves crowds. And now Arthur wants me to sit in on the trials and maybe even preside over a few myself! Can you imagine it, Gwaine? Me! Presiding over a trial, choosing who's innocent and who's not? Or who's right and who's wrong? Who gets the prize and who goes home empty handed?"

"Ah," Gwaine nodded in understanding then. "Being the centre of attention never was your forte."

"Now you understand why I'm so uncomfortable with all this?"

"I do understand," he nodded sincerely, reaching out to hold her hand. She studied him for a while, and he shifted, feeling slightly awkward under her intense gaze. Then, finally, she dropped her eyes back to the water, and his mind began to reel, searching desperately for something else to say, to break the silence. But there was only one other thing he could say, and he just couldn't form the words in his mind, let alone speak them aloud.

But then as he moved and a small pouch on his belt dug into his rib painfully, he was sharply reminded of something else. Reaching carefully into the pouch, he pulled out something small, which he held cupped in one gloved hand.

"Dante?" He asked, then waited patiently for her to look back up at him once more. "Please do not take this the wrong way, but I have a gift for you. To say congratulations. But, as I said, coming from me, it would be easy to take this the wrong way so...well...please don't..."

"O...kay..." she frowned, wondering what on earth he was going on about. He extended his hand to her then and uncurled his fingers, to reveal a ring.

It was silver and fairly plain, the only decoration coming from the sapphire the size of a small marble, that sat on the top.

"Oh," she breathed, not sure what to say.

"As I said, don't take it the wrong way," he repeated, suddenly anxious that this was exactly what she'd done. She continued to stare for a moment, before her eyes snapped back up to meet his.

"And what way am I NOT supposed to be taking this?"

"Well, I didn't want you to think that I was proposing to you. Because I'm not. Not that I don't want to marry you, of course! You're a beautiful lady, and you were my betrothed once and those were the best years of my life and...well this isn't a proposal. Unless you wanted it to be of course? Because it could always mean that, if you wanted it to. I'd happily marry you in a heartbeat! Though not that I'd blame you if you didn't want to marry me. I've been a right pig to you, I know..."

He was seriously floundering now, and Dante found it all incredibly cute.

"Gwaine –" she started. But apparently he wasn't finished yet, and carried on speaking over her, not letting her have a chance to interrupt. He was determined to say what he needed to say.

"Running out on you all those years ago was the worst possible betrayal of your trust. You deserved better."

"Gwaine?"

"And yet now, whenever anyone else even dares to look at you - "

"Gwaine?"

"I just get so angry inside, and I know that I have no right to, because you don't belong to me. You're free to make your own choices and be with who you want to be with and - "

"Gwaine!"

"I'm so sorry Dante. If you don't ever forgive me, I'll understand. It's what I deserve. But I just needed to say this to you now...because I just needed to tell you how terrible I feel about all this, and how I wish with all my heart that I could undo everything I did back then. I love you, Dante Quincailan. I always have done, and I always will do, forever more. Of that, at least, I am certain."

Dante was quiet then. She stared at him for what felt like an eternity, her expression still impossible to read. And then she raised her perfect eyebrows and tilted her head ever so slightly in a quizzical manner.

"Is that the sapphire from the dagger I gave you? The one you used to heal me?"

"What?" He asked, caught off guard. He'd just poured his heart out to the woman and THAT was all she could think of to say in return? "Erm yeah, it is. Why?"

"The sapphire was the heart of the dagger," she said thoughtfully, as she slid the ring onto her right ring finger and admired it for a moment.

"I guess it was," he replied, frowning. Had she seriously not listened to a word he'd just said?

"And you love that dagger - I think. Considering you are never seen without it at your side now. So it must be precious to you. Therefore you could say," she continued, apparently oblivious to his wounded feelings, "that you have given me YOUR heart..."

"I guess," he agreed, feeling his anger at her insensitivity growing inside him. But then she took his face very gently in her hands and he felt all the anger suddenly drain as she stroked his bearded cheek with one thumb, studying the look in his eyes, almost as if seeking permission. Then she leaned forward and her soft lips pressed very gently against his.

He was taken by surprise, just about to speak again, but quieted as he accepted the kiss, and eventually returned it as his other hand moved up to gently wrap around the back of her neck.

It lasted no longer than a few seconds, but to the pair of them, it felt like a lifetime. And it felt wonderful. Dante had no idea she'd been longing for that moment, until it actually happened.

"Do you accept my heart, then?" he asked as they sat, foreheads pressed lightly together, gazing into each other's eyes as the snow began to settle upon them finally, and not just melt into their hair and clothes.

"I never let it go," she reminded, referring back to the first time they had been together, as a young couple so long ago.

Gwaine leapt to his feet then, scooped her up into his arms, kissed her again and carried her back inside.

"I could get used to this," she teased as he hurried the familiar route to her chambers.

"So could I," he agreed with a grin, stealing another quick kiss before ascending the last set of stairs.

"What about the feast?" she asked as he carried her through the door to her chambers and kicked it closed behind him.

"Everyone's too drunk to notice," he assured her, carrying her into her bedroom and kicking that door closed as well. "Trust me."

"Always," she replied without hesitation, kissing him on the neck and feeling the shiver run down his spine once more.

Then they collapsed into a giggling heap on her bed.

...

Outside in the corridor Hunith smiled and turned away. Merlin had told her about Dante's request to meet with her, but apparently the First Lady's attention was currently 'occupied' by the very handsome Sir Gwaine.

She'd try again to seek an audience with Dante in the morning, before leaving with the small party that Arthur was loaning her, to escort her safely home. Deciding that she could not stand around in this draughty corridor all night, and knowing that Dante was unlikely to be emerging from her chambers any time in the near future, she returned to the feast to find her son and Gaius again.

...

A little later, Gwaine looked down at Dante. Her eyes were sleepy now, but very bright and there was a soft smile on her face that simply refused to leave.

"Dante," he asked, his voice husky. "Will you marry me?"

"Of course."

"'Of course' she says...just like that! And after all this time...!"

"I'm a woman and I reserve the right to be inconsistent," she explained lightly, holding up her right hand and sliding the ring off. Then she slid it onto her left ring finger instead. The finger where an engagement ring would sit.

He laughed and kissed her nose. She pulled a face and he laughed again. Then he looked deep into her eyes.

"We'll have to keep it a secret."

She frowned, startled. "What? Why?"

"Come on Dante, you've been promoted. You've got new powers, new responsibilities...how suspicious is it going to look to everyone that the day you get promoted is the day we 'get together'? They'll think I'm only using you for your power and position in the monarchy."

"Then let them."

"Dante!"

"Why should I care what other people think, Gwaine? I'm happy, you're happy, what else matters?"

"You're a representative of the Royal Household now. You could say you've become public property. People look to you for guidance and leadership. You have to set the example, in everything you do. If they're going to see us together, at least let them believe we are together for love."

"We ARE together for love!"

"You know what I mean. That's not the way they'll see it."

She opened her mouth to protest, closed it again, let out a long huff, then shrugged. "Yeah, alright, point taken. But can we really keep it a secret? We'd be living a lie..." I'm already living a lie, and I can barely hold it together...can I really live TWO lies - and not just small ones either?

If his idea to keep it a secret had been a surprise to Dante, his next proposal, however, was downright shocking.

"Well then, we should run away together. Some place far away, where no-one can find us and we can start a new life together. Be who WE want to be and not have to worry about any of this." He waved a vague hand about under the sheet, but Dante knew that he was referring to more than just her bed, then. He was referring to the Kingdom of Camelot, the people in it, even its laws and customs - everything that was now a part of their life.

She glared at him, wondering if he was joking, and when she saw no hint of amusement in his gaze, she turned away, rolling out from under his arms, disentangling herself from the sheets and sitting up on the edge of the bed.

"No," she said firmly, and with utter conviction. "Absolutely not. You may be the running type, but I'm not."

Choosing to ignore the insult, Gwaine also sat up. "This, coming from the girl who ran away from her own home in the middle of the night?"

She shot a deadly glare over her shoulder, and he briefly recoiled, holding the bed sheet up between them in a feeble attempt at a shield.

"Why do you say that?" She challenged, icily.

He shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "You may have fooled the others with your spiel about your own father selling you to Lot, but you forget, I've known Ector most of my life. He was the one who helped my mother after we came to Essetir, and I know how much he detests the very idea of slavery. So I'm sorry, my love, but that story never washed with me, no matter how convincing you made it sound."

She glared at him a moment longer, and then looked away, her head hanging in shame. "You knew all along?"

"Of course."

"And you never said?"

"Wasn't my place. You had your reasons for lying...I trusted your judgement."

She huffed, but didn't say anything further, and eventually he reached over and began tracing patterns gently across her back, causing her to squirm and shiver slightly.

"So, why did you lie?"

"Does it matter?" she shrugged at last, her back still to him.

"If we're going to spend the rest of our lives together, then there should be no secrets. I want to know everything about you. The good...and the bad."

"It wasn't a complete lie," she said at last, still not looking in his direction. "I did run away of my own accord, but I ended up Lot's slave anyway."

"I gathered." Gwaine momentarily curled his hand into a fist. "I should have killed the bastard when I had the chance."

"And rob me of the chance for my own payback?" She retorted, glancing back at him finally with the hint of a smile.

"You make him suffer girl - promise me."

"Oh I assure you, my love," she nodded sincerely. "He'll be begging for death by the time I've finished with him."

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," Gwaine mused. Then he shuddered. He'd seen Dante scorned. He'd felt her wrath. And suddenly he pitied Lot.

Dante shrugged then, deciding that she really didn't want to get angry right now - and talking about Lot was doing exactly that. So she decided to steer the topic back to its original destination.

"So, what are we going to do about us? You're a knight, I'm First Lady...is it even allowed for us to, you know...'mingle'?"

He gave a bark of amused laughter then. "You do come out with some strange things, you dozy mare! Of course we can 'mingle'. Arthur took a serving girl as his queen! Why should anyone care that his First Lady dates a knight? Besides, I'm not just any old knight, I'll have you know. I'm a member of his elite 'Round Table Order'. That makes me special." He puffed out his chest in pride.

"Sure it does," she grinned, finally beginning to feel her mood lighten again as she poked him.

"Besides, we've both been under so much pressure to be perfect for pretty much our entire lives. We've never given ourselves a break," he continued, more seriously.

"We can't give ourselves a break," she sighed bitterly, her sour mood returning as she looked away from him again. "There was always too much at stake. There's ALWAYS going to be something standing in our way."

"Hey," Gwaine said to her softly then, and she felt his hand rest gently in the small of her back, his skin warm and soothing.

She glanced back over her shoulder "Yes?"

"Come here."

Dante tried - and failed - to hide a smile as she turned back to him, her good mood returning again in an instant as she shifted her whole body so she was sitting sideways on the bed. "Oh? Still impatient, Sir Knight?"

Gwaine sat up then in a mock 'proper' way - obviously mimicking her. "Still trying to maintain control, My Lady?"

"Trying..." She leant over and placed both her hands on his chest, looking deep into his eyes. "But failing."

And that was when she noticed his voice had become incredibly husky again. "Good. I'm almost out of moves."

"I'm not."

Was it his imagination, or was that a hint of a challenge he saw twinkling in her eye then as they both collapsed back into the mound of pillows?