Reposted after being betad by the lovely whytewytch

A/N: To explain a bit further -- this is set during the first series but Morgana's going to have a sister because, though I am enjoying the programme, I think we need a few more girls... et voila!

Starts off during episode one – probably won’t follow the story line exactly, as in it won’t show every scene that is in the episodes and some will be changed and there will be some new ones thrown in.

Anyway – hope you enjoy it!

Chapter One

There was a knock at the door. Jocelyn looked up, slightly surprised, one hand remaining confined in her bag.

“Come in.” she called.

The wooden door swung open and her elder sister was revealed in the doorway. With a brief smile, Jocelyn returned to her task, pulling her horse’s bridle fully out of the bag. Morgana didn’t return the slight greeting but strolled across the room to stare out of the window, down at the courtyard where a man had been killed not long since.

The sisters were silent. Morgana was brooding and Jocelyn knew that she would talk in time and was quite willing to wait until that time, and avoid the confidence she was to receive altogether if that was at all possible.

For two girls too close, yet far apart in age to be of any use to each other, they achieved a fairly credible relationship. They cared for each other in a sort of detached, distant way but the fact remained that they were too different to get on very well. Morgana was older and generally more respectable, passionate about helping those who needed it, willing to tease in a subtle way and giving more than five minutes of her time to matters of dress. Jocelyn, being younger though eighteen years old herself, was still officially under the care of her governess. This worthy and overbearing woman, however, had not enough authority to even keep her charge in the room. Jocelyn wanted to be out riding her horse or badgering the old sword master for lessons or trying to glean some Latin from Gaius, not hemming useless bits of cloth or knitting comforters.

They did have a few things in common, however - they were both deep thinkers, though on dissimilar subjects, and between the two of them they never failed to infuriate their guardian, the ruler of the land.

Morgana sighed and turned from the scene spread out below her.

“Uther has ordered me to be at the feast for Lady Helen and to greet her when she arrives.” She said heavily.

“Are you surprised?” Jocelyn didn’t look at her sister to deliver the question.

“No. It seems I was brought up to attend these ridiculous affairs. That it is the only reason for me to be an adult.”

Now it was Jocelyn’s turn to sigh, she had heard these complaints before. She returned her usual response. “And I grew up without anyone noticing.”

This, to a certain extent, was true. When the pair had arrived in Camelot four years ago, newly fatherless, Jocelyn was still all tangled hair and coltish legs, while Morgana was all but a fully-grown woman wanting only a little polish before being presented at court. The same state of affairs had continued without change since that time. It wasn’t that Jocelyn had any wish to be forced to attend feasts and balls, the few times she had been commanded to join the court she had sat in the corner feeling thoroughly bored.

Morgana considered her younger sister for a moment, taking her in properly, before turning to look out of the window once more. There was no evidence of the earlier bloody event now, except the slightly discolored straw that was being hastily cleaned away by a furtive servant.

“How a feast can be called so soon after an execution is beyond me.” She glanced to Jocelyn but received no acknowledgement of her words. “And Arthur just assumes I shall go with him, he doesn’t ask me. Perhaps you should go with him.” Morgana suggested, smiling at her sister. All she received for her pains was a raised eyebrow before Jocelyn turned to leave the room.

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“Excuse me your highness, I am sorry to interrupt you.”

Uther closed his eyes briefly as he heard Morgana address him, dreading another tirade. He turned towards her and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“Yes, Morgana, what can I do for you?”

“It is about my sister, sire.” He nodded to her, inviting her to continue. “I was wondering if she would be allowed to attend the feast.”

“She is too young.” Uther replied immediately. The same reply he made for four years.

“She is eighteen years old, older than I was when I first joined the court.” Morgana paused a moment, allowing her words to sink in before applying a judicious amount of flattery. “And Jocelyn would so enjoy hearing Lady Helen, so fine a singer.”

Uther was silent for a minute, considering. Suddenly he smiled. “Yes. Why not. You may tell her she may attend.”

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A/N: I would love to know what you think – of the story idea and character especially – thanks!