Hey all of my loyal and silent readers! And a special hi to all of my reviewers! Marise won the competition by a landslide, so she and Gwaine will get a special focus on them in the last chapter which will be coming out in two weeks. Sorry to spring the change on you guys, but I finish my second semester of university in about a month, and it's kind of getting to be crunch time for projects and such. I was also thinking about doing a boys point of view of the same period that this chapter covers, but once again that's up to you lovely readers! But, review or no review, I hope you enjoy my story and keep reading!

Disclaimer: Sorry all you sue happy lawyers, I'll bow to copyright laws and say that I do indeed not own Merlin.

Chapter 5: Moira

Moira watched Gwen hand a flower to Prince Arthur, her eyes aglow with what Moira could only define as love. He took it and tucked it into his pocket, bestowing her with a quick kiss before heading to the arena.

Moira felt like throwing up. Why was Gwen with Prince Arthur? How was that fair?

"Hey Moira, what's wrong with you?" Anna asked quietly. "You haven't been talking very much."

"Just people watching," she replied candidly, earning laughs from her friends.

"You could have made a good spy," Marise said, looping her arm through Lucinda's. "You can be quiet as a church mouse and you have the eyes of a hawk. Plus, as a servant no one notices you."

"Thanks Marise," Helana said dryly. "It's nice to know where servants stand on your invitation list. You have the tact of Sir Gwaine when he's drunk out of his mind. Obviously you've been spending too much time with him."

"I didn't mean it like that, and you know it,"Marise grumbled. "But, just to prove I'm not an ignoramus, I'm sorry Moira. I was trying to give you a compliment, but I went about it in the wrong way."

"That was actually nice of you Mari," Lucinda commented, her face lighting up at Marise's attempt.

Moira was just glad to have gotten out from under the eyes of her friends. She hadn't taken any offense at Marise's words anyway, she enjoyed using her position in the castle to be able to watch and observe the many people inside it.

Some people would define that as snooping, Moira liked to call it discreet investigating.

The girls wandered to the stands, ready to watch the fight. Moira caught the sight of a dejected looking Lancelot heading to his tent.

"Where are you going?" Helana called after her. "The competition is this way!"

"I think she knows that," Marise snorted.

"I wonder where she's going then?" Lucinda questioned.

"Who knows?" Anna put in. "This is Moira we're talking about."

Moira's heart was beating rapidly as she drew aside the curtains to Lancelot's domain.

"Moira? What are you doing in here?"

He was straightening out his chain mail, obviously having just pulled it on. His eyes were studying her seriously, as if to pull out the reason for her presence by shear will alone. He had yet to shave that day, so his cheeks were darkened by stubble.

"I wanted to wish you luck in tournament today," she replied, cautiously stepping farther into the tent. "I didn't want you to feel forgotten."

"And why would I think that?" He asked, only the slight twitch in his cheek revealing the lie he was trying to pass off as truth. "All the knights have exchanged best wishes for each other. We are all well wished for."

"Lancelot," Moira threw in, "I know about Gwen."

His eyes flew from his chain mail to her eyes, seeking for the truth behind her words there.

"So why are you here?" He asked, his eyes hardening even as his posture collapsed.

"To wish you luck," Moira answered in a rush, the hardness in his eyes prompting her to turn away and begin striding out of the tent. "Good luck!"

She was just lifting the flap of the tent when her courage returned to her in a rush, resulting in her spinning on him.

"No, that's not what I came here to say!"

The words must have come out of her more vigorously than she intended, for his eyebrows rose in surprise.

"I'm here to tell you that it's unfair!" Moira continued, waving her arms wildly. "It is not right for you to love her so much and then to just give her up to Prince Arthur just because he loves her too! Where is it a rule that a knight must give up everything he desires for the sake of a king? I certainly don't remember that rule!"

"Moira," he put in, his eyebrows reaching higher the more she showed her agitation. She wasn't surprised, she was quite sure she'd never been this loose with her anger before. "Moira it wasn't just that the Prince I was thinking of. I had no life to offer her at the time, no home to bring her to. She could have all of those things and more here."

"Did you even consider how that might make her feel? Like she was just something you were willing to give up at the drop of a hat?"

Moira cut off before a sob could escape her throat. Turning away from him she tried to get herself under control.

"Moira?" Lancelot's voice was soft and concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me today," Moira exclaimed, waving his considerate words away. "All I wanted to do was tell you something and here I am preaching away and becoming emotional. I'll leave you to your sport-"

"Moira."

This time Lancelot's voice was as firm as the grip her had on her arm, restraining her.

"Yes?"

"Pray tell me, what was it that you wanted to tell me that has had you so upset?"

"It's just . . . there was a knight once," Moira confessed, looking anywhere but into his soft brown eyes. "I loved him whole heartedly. We were both so young, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with it. But then he heard of a blacksmith who had his eye on me, and he stopped coming to meet me. He sent me a letter full of pretty words about sacrifice and love, but what did he know of it? He didn't know my heart. I would have gladly remained a maid serving him my entire life rather than marry a man I did not love."

"What happened?" Lancelot prompted, his hand still resting on her arm, preventing her from moving.

"He died in battle and I was left behind once again," Moira bit out. Her eyes were truly swelling with tears now. "And I sent the blacksmith away. How could I love another when my heart was full of him? Is still full of him?"

Angrily she swiped at her eyes, dashing the tears away before she spoke again.

"So how could I look on while you broke your heart over Gwen, a girl who you left behind in much the same manner? Her heart belongs to him now, she can never return it to you. Should never return it to you. You broke it and he helped it heal."

"May I ask why you felt the need to dredge this up? Do you think I don't notice the way she looks at him? Do you think I don't notice how her eyes sometimes fall upon me while filled with a pain greater than I can describe? Did you think it was an easy choice for me, giving her up? What kind of man do you think I am?"

His words were uncharacteristically sharp, and Moira collapsed upon an overturned box. He eased himself down to her level.

"And why does this matter to you, my little mouse?"

"Because I thought two broken people might find a little happiness with one another," Moira whispered. "Because I had begun to see us as friends who might do this for each other. It was a foolish thought."

"No," Lancelot protested. "It was a wonderfully thoughtful thought. I wish I had thought of it."

"Are you making jokes?" Moira asked incredulously.

"Someone has to, or I shall enter the tournament today crying like a woman – not that there's anything wrong with that," Lancelot answered at the warning glare she sent him. "Come Moira, help me with my battledress."

Surprised at his sudden change of topic, Moira did as Lancelot asked, fastening and straightening things he couldn't quite reach. She was just pulling back when a piece of her hair became stuck in a bit of his chain mail.

"Ow!" She cried as she thoughtlessly pulled back. "I think you've taken a prisoner Lancelot!"

He grinned, gently reaching down to tug her hair free without causing her too much pain. His fingers rolled themselves over the lock, as if memorizing the texture.

"Lancelot, my hair please so I may quit your presence."

"In exchange for something."

Moira could feel her eyes widening.

"In exchange for what?"

"I want to give your idea a try," Lancelot whispered, still playing with her hair. At his words she jerked it out of his hands. "I don't know if I can ever truly love again after Gwen, but I'm willing to try."

"And I don't know if I'll be able to love again after William," Moira warned. "What a pair we'll make!"

"But at least we'll know where the other stands."

"In love with someone else," Moira broke in, starting to smile now. "But let's not tell people that part."

"No, I don't imagine people would take it very well," Lancelot admitted, smiling wryly.

At that moment, the ceremonial music began to play, making both of them jump.

"You'd better get out there," Moira said, reaching for his helmet. "Can't have you being late."

Lancelot's hand intercepted Moira's, preventing it from reaching its destination.

"I cared about you before all of this happened," he whispered intensely. "I don't want you to think that because I still love Gwen that this is some kind of meaningless obligation for me. I will learn to open my heart to you. And I won't ever hurt you intentionally."

Moira, short though she was, reached up on her tiptoes to give him a brief kiss. She was surprised at the electricity that flashed through her that, while not as intense as the feelings she felt with William, still made her toes curl. Trying to hide her feelings, she grabbed the helmet and carefully placed it over his blushing face.

"I don't care what happens out there today," Moira told him, "But I want you to do your best. If Arthur wins, I don't want it to be because you let him because he's the Prince. He doesn't have to have everything."

Before he could walk out, Moira pressed a fresh handkerchief into his hands. It was embroidered with purple flowers and vines in the shape of her initials.

"For luck."

This is the second to last chapter of the story, and I hope you enjoyed it! I had a hard time writing romantically for Lancelot, because he loves Gwen, but I also want him to be happy. So I created an OC who had the same type of issue, but from the opposite side of things. Please let me know how I did, and sorry for posting it so late! Thank you so much for reading!