I've published the book! Arthur's Witch: The Priestess is now available on Kindle and Smashwords, and you can download the sample for free, so it's gotta be worth a look! The blurb is below.

Morgan le Fay is a woman shrouded in infamy. The original wicked witch, she is responsible for bringing the golden age of Arthur to a catastrophic end. Though evil guile, ruthless ambition and petty jealousy, she stood against the light of Britain's first Christian King, her own brother. She watched an entire kingdom burn. A subhuman monster who consorted with demons and became the Devil's mistress.

Or a woman shrouded in mystery. The original fairy godmother, she is responsible for creating the golden age of Arthur from the ground to the ramparts of Camelot. Though passion, purity of spirit and selflessness, she stood against the religious perversion which invaded her homeland and corrupted her King, her own brother. She protected an entire kingdom as a mother would a child. A High Priestess whose name and legend have been besmirched and besmeared by lesser men.

Her own story. Now told.

A/N: Sorry this took me so long to get out, people. Here's the next installment, hope you enjoy :)

Chapter Six - Company

The next time a letter arrived, Diana seized her opportunity. Bracing herself for an unpleasant quarrel, she nevertheless broached the subject with Donna. As had become her usual habit, Donna made to take the letter immediately upstairs and read it there, but stopped when Diana cleared her throat gently.

"Donna…could we talk for a moment?"

The letter disappeared into a pocket. "Of course," she smiled, sitting down again. "What is it you would like to discuss?"

"These letters."

Donna blinked innocently, though a blush rose to her cheeks. "Oh? What about them?"

"I know who they're from."

"Of course you know who they're from!" Diana smiled. "Mildred, I told you."

Diana gave her a would-be stern look. "Please don't try and lie to me, sister. You know it's useless."

Donna reddened further, and she made no answer to that, either denial or affirmation. "I don't have to tell you all the details of my life, Diana."

"Of course you don't," Diana replied. "And I would never expect you to. You're a grown woman, and under most circumstances I trust you to act with perfect propriety and sense."

Donna barely stifled a snort at that. She knew—as well as Diana did—that propriety was one of her most hated social customs, and she preferred to rely on the heart far more often than the head. "Under most circumstances?" she asked sharply. "But obviously not in this one?"

"I still trust you to act responsibly," Diana told her softly. "But I am concerned that you may get hurt."

"Then you needn't," Donna said crisply. "I am in no danger of being hurt."

"Are you so sure of that? Donna, I am happy you have found someone with whom you can form such an…affectionate friendship—but I highly doubt it has a long future, unless it stays at friendship. If you can assure me it will, then I will withdraw and trust your emotional well-being to your own good sense. However…"

"You don't trust me?"

"I do trust you," Diana emphasised. "You're my sister, Donna, you must know this comes only from concern for you."

"As I keep telling you, there is no need to be concerned! My heart—wherever it may be—is in safe hands."

"I'm sure it is, but it may not be your choice, or indeed Mr Greyson's, in the end."

Donna's cheeks flamed now, but again, she didn't deny it. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, he is Mr Wayne's heir, and Mr Wayne is the richest man in England. You are neither rich, nor high-born, not anymore. In fact, our family's reputation could hardly be worse. There is no possibility he will allow you to marry Mr Greyson. And if he does, then there is every chance Dick will be cut off."

"As if that would matter to me!" Donna said scornfully.

"Have you considered it might matter to him?" Diana asked quietly.

"It wouldn't! Not for a moment!"

"You can't know that, dearest. He seemed like a good man when we met him, yes, but since then you have only communicated with him by letter, and it is easy to deceive in letters-"

"Stop it!" Donna snapped, standing. "Stop it! I will not sit her and listen to you badmouth him, Diana! You have no idea what kind of man he is! He is honest and good and pure of spirit! He writes with such artlessness, such eloquence and truth of feeling!"

"Donna, I just want you to be happy-"

"Yes? Then you can leave me alone!" With that, she stormed from the parlour, slamming the door behind her.

Diana sank into her seat with a weary sigh. "That went well…"

Donna did not speak to her for a very long time afterward. At least, it felt like a long time, probably because Diana had become so used to having a very close bond with both of her sisters, but with Donna especially. Sometimes she was convinced that they could be twins, if not for the difference in their ages. Certainly, Diana's heart went through all that Donna's did—except she governed it with a rather firmer hand. Was that so wrong? Sometimes Donna made her think that she was somehow less than she should be, because she didn't let her true feelings show. But then Donna did not have the title of 'Head of Household' resting on her shoulders. Diana wished she didn't. It was an immensely heavy burden sometimes. Especially when she did not have the cushion of wealth to help her.

Both sisters avoided the tension in the house as much as possible, with Donna escaping to draw or paint nearly the whole countryside, and for Diana there was no shortage of tasks around the cottage that needed to be done. They still had meals together, but Diana worried that their closeness might be diminishing. She almost considered simply telling Donna that she had been right—it was none of Diana's business, she was sure that Dick Greyson was the perfect gentlemen Donna thought him to be, and that she no longer had any fear that her sister's heart was about to be broken. If she believed any of those things, of course. But truth was the cornerstone of Diana's character. If she gave that up—even to soothe the heart of someone so dear to her—then she would have very little right to look in any looking glass any time soon. No, she would have to find some other way of breaking the ice with Donna. There was a little money left over from this week's budget, so she could order some new drawing materials for Donna. She had mentioned she was becoming a little low on supplies. That had been a few weeks ago, so she must be even lower now.

She walked into town and spent a long time in the artists' supply shop, examining the wares and sorting through things before making her choice and paying for the materials. The shopkeeper handed her the packet wrapped in brown paper with a smile. "Will there be anything else, Miss Prince?"

"No, thank you. Good day to you."

"We hope to see you again soon. Goodbye."

Donna was more than intelligent enough to recognise the gift for what it was: an olive branch. She took it with good grace. "Thank you, sister. It's very thoughtful."

"You mentioned you were low."

"Indeed." For a moment, she looked at Diana as though unsure if she was about to break into another warning, and looked gratified when she did not. There was a pause, then Donna started the first conversation she had in over a week. "When when is Miss- Mr and Mrs Kent expected back?"

"Very soon, I should think. I received a letter from Lois telling me they were stopping in York, and that was a few days ago. Hopefully they should not be long in coming home."

"I expect it will be a relief for Martha, having her son home again."

Diana smiled. "Actually she says she's been glad of the peace and quiet, though I'm sure she was joking. Of course it's natural that she should have missed him."

A silence fell then, their two absent parents hovering in the room. It seemed to Diana she could almost see them; Mother, a book on ancient Greece in her lap, smiling fondly as though she had been there herself and were merely recollecting it all. And Father, not doing anything, just sitting and surveying his family proudly. He had not often been home—at least not before he had taken semi-retirement—so when he was, he always said he had to absorb everything he could about his girls.

"You should write to Cassandra," Diana said, trying to banish the fanciful image. "Every time I write to her she asks me for news of you."

"I will."

"Good."

Another pause, then Donna sighed. "I am sorry, Diana. I hate it when we quarrel."

"As do I."

"Perhaps we have simply been too long without company," Donna smiled ruefully. "Familiarity breeds contempt after all, even between sisters as close as we."

"Very possibly," Diana admitted. "Another reason it will be good to have Lois back."

Company required their presence as soon as Lois and her husband arrived back in the country, as it turned out. There were obliged to pay their respects to the bride anyway, of course, and they had not been in the room fifteen minutes before an invitation to a picnic was procured.

"A picnic? In weather such as this?"

"Well, it is only an idea at the moment," Lois reasoned, "but even if it is unseasonable, I am sure a way will be found. Can it not, Clark?"

Mr Kent eyed his wife with amusement. "I believe Miss Prince may be right, dearest. It is very cold outside."

"Oh, you are both spoiling my fun. This is what I get for surrounding myself with terribly sensible people. In that case, can we at least hold a ball? The barn is big enough, you must give me that."

"And is also cold," Clark pointed out. "How about a dinner party, instead? We can still invite all our friends, no one need catch an illness coming to it..."

For the next week, Diana almost lived at Kent Farm, and almost bored out of her mind. She had no idea why Lois was being so…female about everything. And she was not being the sort of female Diana cared to spend any time with, nor the kind of female she had thought Lois to be. Convinced that she could not have misjudged her friend for all the time they had known one another, Diana sought to understand what the problem was. It was easier than listening to yet another list of possible guests.

"I wonder if we should invite the Dashwoods…" Lois mused.

Diana did not bother to stifle her yawn. "Lois, Mr and Mrs John Dashwood are dreary, selfish, cold people with whom you share no sympathy whatever. A better question would be why would you think about inviting them?" Lois had the grace to blush, and while she searched around for an answer, Diana pressed her advantage. "And for that matter, when exactly did you become so concerned over who to invite for a dinner? What is wrong, Lois? Really?"

"Nothing."

Diana folded her arms. "Lois."

Mrs Kent sighed and cast her eyes towards the ceiling. "You'll think me silly."

"I already think you silly. Give me the real reason for your odd behaviour and I might think you merely strange," Diana replied, with a hint of a smile.

Catching the teasing note clearly, Lois also managed a self-conscious smile. "It's… It's being married."

Whatever Diana had been expecting, it was not that. She knew Lois loved her husband, and vice versa, and she knew that they were very happy together. Had something changed? She did not expect to be privy to everything that might go on in a marriage between husband and wife, but she thought - and hoped - that Lois would trust her enough to confide in her if something was truly wrong. She adopted a neutral expression and enquired, "How so?"

"There seem to be so many expectations, expectations that simply were not present before. Now that I am Mrs Clark Kent, not Miss Lois Lane, I feel I must be elegant in a way I am not suited to."

"That is ridiculous."

"Perhaps easy for you to say, Diana. You are both unmarried and perpetually elegant."

Amused and flattered by that, Diana helped to rearrange the guest list one last time, this time making sure it listed names belonging to people whose company everyone would enjoy. Once it was finalised, Diana wondered if perhaps there was something Lois might do to help her. After all, they both had a younger sister, and while Diana was unfamiliar with Lucy Lane's character, she was of a similar age to Donna. It was worth asking, at any rate.

"Lois—forgive my rudeness, but has your sister ever formed an…attachment?"

Lois chuckled. "Lucy is forever forming attachments, each as unsuitable as the last. Why?" she asked shrewdly. "Has Donna?"

"I am not sure. I think so, yes. And I've no idea how to speak to her frankly about it. About how unsuitable it is."

"You do not know how to speak frankly? I find that hard to believe."

"I know, but when I did try to speak directly, she became angry and we quarrelled. But I am very concerned for her. I believe there is a very possibility she will have her heart broken."

Lois frowned. "How unsuitable is unsuitable?"

"Almost impossibly so. But you know Donna—where love is involved, or where she thinks it is involved, reason has no place, and nor does reserve or composure. I do not wish to stand in the way of her happiness, but I don't think I am. Unfortunately she does."

Lois was silent for a moment, then she said, "Lucy, when she makes a fleeting attachment, is often distracted by other events—either by fresh society or the season in town. Might it not work the same way with Donna?"

"It may do, I suppose," Diana reasoned. "But I've no idea where new society might come from, and as for town-! It would be massively beyond our reach."

Lois held up a finger, got up and rummaged around in a dresser, pulled out a letter. "I may be able to help there."

"Oh?"

"I had a letter from Dinah—I mean Mrs Queen, a few days ago. She has invited Clark and I to a picnic at their estate, in five weeks' time. She writes that we should bring with us anyone else we might approve of in the neighbourhood. I certainly approve of you, and I remember you've met before, haven't you?"

"Yes, Mr and Mrs Queen were kind enough to drive Donna and I home after your wedding."

"Well then. It is bound to be a large party, it is not too far away, and there will be some young company for Donna. Company far away from her unsuitable suitor."

A/N: Would it be too much to ask for a review? Things will start kicking off properly in the next chapter, so don't give up or be discouraged by this slightly dull one.