Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As he wearily climbed the inside stairs from the courtyard, King Uther wondered if his servants had all suddenly taken to laziness or if there was some rebellion brewing among them. So far this morning he'd slipped in a puddle of water outside his bedroom door, tripped over an empty laundry basket in a corridor, and nearly been thrown from his horse due to an improperly tightened girth. Turning the corner at the top of the stairs, Merlin suddenly ran into the King at top speed carrying a small metal box.

"Idiot!" yelled Uther, catching hold of the servant and barely managing to keep them both on their feet. Turning, he shoved Merlin into the arms of a guard who'd followed the King up the stairs, while Merlin spluttered apologies.

"Release him!" commanded Arthur's voice, over the pounding of his footsteps. Arthur crashed into Merlin and the guard and wrenched Merlin from the man's hands, shoving his servant toward the stair. "Father, I'll explain later. Merlin, find that thing!"

As the two clattered down the stairs, Merlin cried, "I'm doing my best, Arthur. I am not a bloodhound."

Uther stared after them for a moment, stunned. Uther turned toward a soft step behind him to find Gaius treading sedately toward him. "I don't suppose you'd know what's going on?" Uther asked the physician.

"They're chasing a will 'o the wisp, Sire," said Gaius, as matter-of-factly as if he had just said that the sky was blue.

"A will o' the wisp? I saw no such thing," said Uther scornfully.

"Of course not, Sire, they aren't visible in daylight."

"Then how…?"

"I put drops in Merlin's eyes so that he can see it, but that's making his vision blurry for everything else, Sire." A crash and a cry of pain sounded from below and Gaius winced in sympathy. "Arthur is trying to keep Merlin out of the will o' the wisps' traps, but so far it's not going so well. Perhaps it would be best if your Highness would find some place to stay put until they've caught it? I'm afraid the thing has set little traps everywhere."

Uther nodded, still stunned. "I have some papers to go over in my chambers. You will let me know when they've caught it?"

"Of course, Sire." Gaius bowed.

Merlin and Arthur walked into Gaius' chambers looking rather worse for wear. Both were covered in a light dusting of dirt. Arthur's lip bled and his shirt had been torn near his belt buckle. Both knees of Merlin's britches needed mending and scrapes showed through the holes. A small cut showed red over his right eyebrow. Their expressions, however, could hardly have been more different. While Merlin looked quite pleased with himself, Arthur followed along worriedly.

Gaius looked up from the herbs he'd been preparing for drying at the metal box in Merlin's hands. "Put it in the fire," he said, getting a bowl and cloth and motioning Arthur to take a seat on a bench at the dining table.

"How am I supposed to do that?" asked Merlin. "It flies."

"The whole box, Merlin," said Gaius, washing off Arthur's cut lip.

"Oh," said Merlin dropping the box into the fire and then shaking out his hands, which were still stinging from scrapes.

"That doesn't look like it needs sewing, Highness, so perhaps you'd better leave this to us," suggested Gaius.

"I want to see how you get rid of it," Arthur said firmly.

"It's going to have to burn for a while," said Gaius.

Arthur looked at him shrewdly. "Now you're trying to get rid of me. It will take magic, won't it?"

Gaius straightened up. "Magic is illegal, Sire."

Wryly, Arthur answered, "You should have seen how he got it in the box."

"It's all right," said Merlin, from the hearth. "Just tell me what I need to do."

Gaius clamped his lips together over the objections rising to them. "The fire needs to be hotter, hotter than wood can burn. A smith's fire might do, but I haven't the coal."

"Ok," said Merlin, turning back to the fire and watching the flames a moment. Then he spoke a few words and blue flames roared up, hiding the box, heat blasting the room to the point where all three men raised their hands to shield their faces. Suddenly, Merlin clapped his hands to his ears and ducked his head as though in pain. The flames died down again, and the metal box glowed red in the diminished fire.

Gaius went to Merlin and pulled his hands away from his ears.

Merlin looked up at him and asked, "Didn't you hear that?"

"No," said Gaius, pulling Merlin to his feet, "but I'm not surprised that you did." Gaius got Merlin seated on the opposite bench from Arthur. Grabbing up a clean cloth, he started mopping up Merlin's cuts and scrapes.

"What did you hear?" demanded Arthur, his eyes wide and his jaw slack.

"It… screamed," said Merlin.

"That's it then?" asked Arthur.

Merlin shrugged. "Yeah. All taken care of."

Turning one of Merlin's hands up and examining the scrapes, Gaius grumbled, "You've made a mess of your hands."

Trying to compose himself, Arthur said, "I'd better go tell Father we caught it then."

As Arthur reached the door, Gaius called, "Arthur. I told the King that I'd put drops in Merlin's eyes so that he could see the will o' the wisp."

"You lied to my Father?" accused Arthur.

"I told him what he needed to hear," said Gaius straightening up.

Arthur nodded unhappily and walked out.

Gaius turned to Merlin with a severe expression. "You can't keep pressing him this way."

"I'm not," said Merlin. "He's in the secret now, and he wants to know all about it. I'm holding him back, just giving him what he needs to know at the time."

"And if he decides Uther is right?" demanded Gaius.

Merlin lowered his eyes contritely. "I'm sorry, Gaius. I should have found a way to keep you out of it today. I have to take this risk, but there's no reason you should."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Gaius said anxiously.

"This had to happen sooner or later, Gaius. Don't worry. We have a destiny to fulfill. Arthur will accept magic, it may just take a little while."

Moonlight spilled through the window. Arthur flopped over in his soft bed, again, unable to sleep, his mind taken up with, of all things, Merlin. Finally, he kicked off the covers and climbed out of bed, the air cool on the bare skin of his back and chest. The shadows of the room seemed to hold nothing but secrets and Arthur half expected to see Merlin step out of them.

Arthur had accepted that Merlin could be a dragon lord. All right, it meant he had magic, but really just that one thing. He could keep the dragon out of Camelot. Ok, fine, that's what he was doing. He wouldn't attack and if he did, well, Arthur wouldn't be happy to kill him, but if he made an enemy of himself, Arthur would do it and not loose too many nights sleep over it either. So, all right, one dragon lord in the world to keep Camelot safe and Arthur would keep an eye on him.

Then had come that dam dream, except it wasn't a dream it was a spell, a spell binding Merlin and twenty knights (most still unknown) to Arthur. Arthur still couldn't accept that. A knight should give his vows of service willingly, if he was to be trusted to keep them. Those that Arthur had knighted himself had given their oaths while Arthur had had little enough to offer in return. The unknown knights he's spoken to in the dream had offered him reassurance. But Merlin had fought the spell, instinct he'd said, but if he fought it, was he really willing to serve Arthur? He'd said he was. Arthur's death would free him. Merlin had saved Arthur's life more times than Arthur wanted to think about. Now that he knew about the spell, would Merlin think better of his efforts and leave Arthur just when he needed him? 'Rubbish,' thought Arthur. Did he really need Merlin? Servants were easy enough to come by. But a tug inside him dispelled that thought. Now that Arthur knew about the binding, he imagined he could feel it, or maybe it wasn't imagination, Arthur couldn't tell. Regardless, the thought of loosing Merlin felt as natural as cutting off his own arm.

Even realizing that Merlin was a sorcerer wasn't enough to make Arthur want to get shut of him. Merlin, a sorcerer, really? Ok, so he could float a few things around the room; useful, a little creepy, but then Merlin always had been an odd duck. Creepy, Arthur could handle. Arthur had been more worried about dealing with his Father at that moment, and preferably not killing him for being a complete hypocrite. Merlin being a sorcerer had seemed almost a joke compared to the revelation that Uther had effected Arthur's birth through magic and a joke on Uther just when Arthur could most appreciate the humor.

But today, today, that had been something different. Most of the will o' the wisp's traps had been little more than annoyances. They'd followed it into the tombs and in the darkness, Arthur could actually see the thing, a ball of light a little bigger than a fist. He'd gotten a little ahead of Merlin at that point and triggered another trap, but this one was no mere nuisance. He'd run into what seemed a thick cobweb and a stone paver dropped from the ceiling. Arthur had looked up in time to see it begin to drop and freeze in midair. Merlin had pulled him back and the stone had crashed to the floor. Arthur didn't think he'd ever seen Merlin so angry. Merlin had stepped in front of him, opened the box and shouted a spell. The will o' the wisp had vibrated in the air and Merlin shouted a second spell. This time the will o' the wisp zoomed right into the box and Merlin snapped it shut. When Merlin turned back to Arthur, he was looking at him shyly, unsure of Arthur's reaction. Arthur had said no more than that they should take the captured creature back to Gaius.

He'd said no more, but that was when his mind had started to reel. Merlin wasn't just any sorcerer. Arthur had caught a few sorcerers for his Father; they didn't have magic like that. Oh, making a fire roar up hot maybe, but not stopping a falling rock on an instant, not commanding a magical creature against it's will without charms or talismans or altars. And it seemed to Arthur that Merlin hadn't had the spell ready before they'd started their chase, he'd decided to control the will o' the wisp out of anger.

Arthur leaned his forehead against the bedpost and wondered again why Merlin would spend his days cleaning up after him. Merlin's magic was powerful and he wasn't from Camelot. Arthur could think of several kings who wouldn't have scrupled to have a sorcerer in their court and would have paid him well too. Why would he come here, where his life would be in perpetual danger? Or was his magic so powerful he didn't fear Uther? Arthur shuddered. He couldn't quite believe that. Morgana still feared Uther, Merlin's magic couldn't be stronger than hers. Had Nimueh's spell dragged Merlin to Camelot? He'd answered Arthur cheekily enough when they'd first met, still did for that matter.

Unbidden came the image of Gaius directing Merlin in how to get rid of the will o' the wisp. Gaius as Merlin's teacher, that was clear enough now. Arthur hadn't seen Gaius do any magic, maybe he really didn't practice any more, but he had, once upon a time. Gaius as Uther's sorcerer, mindboggling that Uther would have had a sorcerer once, and still did, whether Gaius was practicing or not. That Uther had gone to Nimueh, Arthur now knew, but Gaius had been with Uther long before Arthur's birth. What magic had Gaius performed for Uther? Had Merlin come to Camelot seeking his teacher? Had that been when the spell had snapped Merlin up for Arthur, or had it come earlier?

Arthur imagined the spell like a striking snake, with himself standing in the middle of it's coils and quaked with guilt. He didn't have any control over the thing, he hadn't summoned it, or asked for it, but he was trapped by it, as trapped as the men the spell chose for him.

Arthur sat on the edge of his bed and held his head in his hands. For the first time he faced the truth. "A sorcerer, I'm harboring a sorcerer." Arthur collapsed back into his pillows and let the faintness that thought brought take him.

Merlin walked out of Arthur's chambers with a basket full of Arthur's laundry. Arthur was brooding and in no mood to talk and Merlin was worried that he might indeed have pushed Arthur too far.

"Merlin," Gwen's voice interrupted his pensive mood.

He hadn't even noticed her waiting there. He looked toward her intending to give her a smile and tell her he was busy, but he stopped short as soon as the expression on her face registered. Her eyes crinkled with worry and the corners of her mouth turned down under dimples pinned by distress. She held her hands clasped in front of her as though she were begging.

"Gwen," he said, blinking in surprise at her state.

"Merlin, please help me," she pleaded.

Merlin rested the laundry basket on his hip so that he could hold it with one hand and took Gwen's arm with the other. He steered her into the guest quarters next door to Arthur's room, knowing they were empty.

"What is it?" he asked setting the basket down and giving Gwen's shoulders a squeeze.

"It's Sir Kay," said Gwen, despondently. "He…he laid hands on me."

"What do you mean he laid hands on you?"

Gwen blushed deeply and laid her hands on her derriere.

"Oh," said Merlin, blushing himself. "You should tell Arthur or Elyan. They'd straighten him out quick enough."

"I can't do that," insisted Gwen, shaking her head. "They'd challenge him. There'd be a fight. Someone would get hurt, maybe die, over me. I couldn't stand that. Merlin you said you'd help, if this ever happened. Could you, please?"

Merlin put his hand on his head, regretting that promise. "Gwen, you know I'll do what I can, but I can't do much about a knight."

"I know, but if I can just avoid him for a while, maybe he'll get discouraged."

"Knights don't discourage easily, Gwen."

"Please, Merlin."

"Well," Merlin gulped, "I can help you avoid him, but I don't think it will work."

"Thank you, Merlin." Gwen looked slightly relieved. "Promise me you won't tell Arthur or Elyan."

Merlin's face puckered in distress. "You really should tell them."

"Promise? Please?" she begged.

Merlin shut his eyes. "I promise."

Arthur leaned against the casement of his window, absently watching the early morning bustle in the courtyard below. Grayish light filtered through his windows from the overcast day outside and a chill came with it. The day suited Arthur's mood. It was, unfortunately, one of those rare mornings when Arthur had a couple of hours to himself. With no duties to occupy him for the moment, the cares of the night before did.

Arthur's thoughts tangled and tore around the idea of Merlin being a powerful sorcerer. It didn't make sense to him. It couldn't make sense. All sorcerers were evil. Didn't Morgana prove that? But Merlin… how long had he been a sorcerer anyway? Had he already been a sorcerer when he'd come to Camelot? A lot had happened since then.

A hearty laugh from the courtyard interrupted Arthur's disjointed thoughts. Automatically looking toward the source of the sound, Arthur spotted a knight wearing a green surcoat emblazoned with a stalking leopard speaking to Sir Leon. The man's appearance knocked Arthur's breath away, for he recognized the broad shoulders and red hair and beard as belonging to the knight from the dream of Nimueh's spell. Arthur tore out of his chambers at top speed, racing down the stairs and into the courtyard.

Arthur checked his speed as he emerged into the sunlight. His head whipped around searching for his quarry, but the big knight had disappeared. Spotting Leon across the courtyard, Arthur called to him and motioned him to join him. Leon trotted to his Lord.

"You were speaking to a knight a moment ago, red-hair, I haven't met him yet," said Arthur, still scanning the area for a glimpse of the man.

"That would be Sir Kay, Arthur," Leon informed him. "He arrived night before last with his father, Sir Ector. If you want him, just listen, he's generally to be heard before he's seen." Then, fearing he'd been too cheeky, Leon offered, "I'll find him for you if you want."

"No, no," said Arthur, not wanting to show Leon his interest. "I was just wondering if he was any good? At least he looks the part of a knight, too many of those arriving look like they'd blow away in high wind, let alone a real fight."

Leon cringed. "In a fight between Kay and Elyan, I'd put a month's stipend on Elyan. Kay is strong, but he depends on that strength and doesn't have much skill to back it up." Leon leaned toward Arthur, "As to his father, Ector is ten years Uther's senior at the least and twenty is probably a closer guess."

Arthur pursed his lips as though he'd swallowed something sour, as indeed he had. Elyan was a Knight of Camelot by virtue of the fact that he'd followed Arthur into impossible odds. That he'd survived that conflict spoke well of his skills, but he still wasn't up to the standards that Arthur usually demanded. Even after several months of training, Arthur wouldn't have asked him to go a full minute against himself, which had been the test for a Knight of Camelot until Uther had suspended it. A half a minute perhaps, he had been improving.

"How am I to defend Camelot with old men and…" Arthur paused to search for a more flattering term than the one the occurred, "those with less skill?"

"I don't know, Arthur," said Leon mournfully. "I do think Kay can train up once he sees that he's not up to standard with the other knights. He's just been too isolated to know that he needs to."

Arthur sighed. "That will be one at least."

A soft snore issued from the head of the council table. All talk ceased and no one moved once they had turned to look at the sleeping King. Afternoon light glittered off his crown as his head sagged back against his chair. Gaius started to say something, but Arthur, at Uther's right hand, raised a hand to forestall comment.

"Gentlemen," said Arthur softly, but firmly, "I believe that we have covered all the urgent business of the day. You may retire."

One at a time, the councilors rose and crept from the room, Lord Agravaine last of all. Arthur looked at the manservant who had attended the councilors. "A blanket," Arthur ordered quietly. When the servant had brought it, Arthur took the cover from his hands and tucked it around his Father. "Stay with him. Wait for him to wake." The man bowed in response and Arthur exited the room, closing the doors himself as silently as he could. "No one is to disturb the King," Arthur quietly ordered the guards stationed there. They nodded in deference to his lowered voice.

As Arthur walked away toward his chambers, he suddenly heard a boisterous song coming up the stairs. Arthur hurried toward the sound. Kay was ascending from the courtyard, singing at the top of his lungs. From the top of the stairs, Arthur hissed at him for quiet.

"And who are you to shush me, Sir…?" demanded Kay loudly.

"Arthur," he filled in for the exuberant knight, annoyed at not being recognized.

Kay's mouth rounded in an o as he sucked in a breath. Lowering his tone to one more consistent with normal speech, Kay apologized, "Highness, I did not mean to give offense. It's just such a lovely day." Kay had reached the top of the stairs and Arthur found that he had to look up at the man, though not quite so much as he had to look up at Sir Percival. Still, there was quite a bit of similarity in their builds.

"The King is asleep in the council chamber," said Arthur. "It would be a shame to wake him."

"Oh. Does the King often sleep in the council chamber?" asked Kay, a bit confused.

"No," answered Arthur, even more annoyed and he turned to walk away. Kay's footsteps followed him. Arthur turned back to the knight and Kay bumped into him. "Is there something I can do for you, Sir Kay?"

The confusion had not left Kay's eyes. "I only wish to be of service, Sire. Command me."

"Very well," said Arthur, more pleased with this than anything he had seen of Kay so far. Meet me in the practice ground in a quarter hour. I'm curious to see what you're made of."

Kay grinned broadly. "Sire, to bout with you will be an honor." He turned smartly and clattered down the stairs. Arthur cringed at the noise.

Returning to his quarters to get his armor, Arthur found Merlin dusting the mantle over the fireplace, just as though he were nothing more than any servant and not the powerful sorcerer that Arthur now knew he was. Irked, Arthur said, "You need to find someone else to do that."

"What?" asked Merlin, continuing his chore.

"That," said Arthur, shutting the door more forcefully than he meant to. "Dusting, scrubbing floors, mucking out stables, with your abilities there must be more profitable ways to spend your time."

Merlin stopped dusting and faced Arthur fully. "Are you saying you don't want me to be your servant any more?" he asked, hurt coloring his tone.

Arthur grimaced and lowered his voice. "I suppose you have to be. I certainly can't tell anyone you're my sorcerer." Arthur shook his head, still wanting to deny such a fact. "My armor," he said motioning toward the chest where it was kept and slipping off the vest he'd been wearing.

Merlin scurried to obey, looking vexed, first taking Arthur's gambeson from the wardrobe and helping him into it.

Arthur frowned, worrying at the thoughts chasing through his mind like rats through a sewer. When Merlin started to step away from him, Arthur grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face him.

"What?" asked Merlin not at all startled, but a little confused.

Arthur didn't answer at once, but peered into Merlin's eyes, looking for traces of the power he'd seen yesterday, but only finding the meek (no, meek wasn't the right word), bland (Merlin had enough pepper in him for a banquet), demure (maybe at the moment) retainer he'd had in his rooms for years.

"Arthur?" asked Merlin, becoming concerned.

Arthur's grip tightened on Merlin's arm. "Are you going to turn on me, Merlin? Magic is evil; I've heard nothing else all my life."

Merlin ignored the painful pressure on his arm and stared directly into Arthur's eyes. "I couldn't if I wanted to and I don't want to. Magic isn't evil, it's what's done with it that's good or evil."

Arthur gave Merlin a shove in the direction of the armor chest. "Nimueh's spell was evil."

"How so?" asked Merlin, taking out Arthur's chain mail.

"It killed my Mother!" said Arthur stridently.

"And brought about your birth," said Merlin calmly. "Gaius says your mother knew something about magic, maybe she knew she would die; maybe she thought you were worth her life. That wouldn't be evil, that would be balance."

"That's not what she said," insisted Arthur, as Merlin dropped his chain mail over his head. Arthur's head whirled with doubt and pain and crystallized into need. As Merlin fussed around him, settling the links of chain mail into place, Arthur said, "I need you to summon my Mother."

Merlin startled. "I told you, Arthur, I don't know that spell."

"Then find out!" insisted Arthur. "I'm stuck with you; you might as well make yourself useful."

Merlin's eyes grew large and apprehensive. "This wouldn't be like finding out about the dream, Arthur. It could take me weeks to figure out something that complicated, not to mention how to do it safely."

"Fine. Do it."

"You're ordering me to do magic?" asked Merlin disbelievingly.

Arthur thought about that a moment. "I suppose I am."

"I'll have to travel," warned Merlin. "I could be gone for days at a time to try to track down knowledge of the spirit world."

"I'll send knights with you if you're afraid of bandits," scoffed Arthur.

"I've never had problems with bandits, Arthur. It would mean leaving you alone."

"Didn't I just tell you to find me another servant? I'm sure there isn't another in the castle who'd be worse at your chores. Of course, you'll have to keep doing some tasks to keep up appearances, but I don't suppose you'll object to sloughing off the ones you don't care for."

His mouth puckered with the rebuttal he wouldn't utter, Merlin snatched up Arthur's belt and started to buckle it around him. Arthur took it from him, saying, "I can do that. Get your own armor on and meet me down at the training ground. That red-headed knight from the dream? He's here and I've got a bout with him."

"Sir Kay?" asked Merlin with trepidation.

"You've seen him?"

"I ran into him at noon time," said Merlin with a mildness that indicated there was more to that statement than he would willingly say.

Arthur heard the omission, but as usual decided it wasn't worth questioning. "Off you go," he ordered.

Merlin gave him a rather hangdog look but obeyed.

Arthur grabbed up his gauntlets and headed down to the training field. Kay was already there, doing some warm up exercises. Arthur stopped to watch him for a few minutes and he didn't like what he saw. Had no one taught the man how to stand? His feet were at odd angles to each other. Kay had enough mass that he should be rock solid, but Arthur suspected that one good shove would send the knight flying.

Someone stopped behind Arthur's shoulder and Arthur turned to find Merlin surveying the field with somewhat less enthusiasm than he might have displayed for cleaning out a stable that hadn't been mucked out in a fortnight. Arthur leered at him and called Sir Leon over.

Seeing Merlin behind Arthur, Leon picked up something and put it behind his back. Gwaine grinned in anticipation of a good joke and the two knights joined the Prince.

"You can have him for an hour, Sir Leon," said Arthur, eager to see what the knights were up to.

"Have you been doing the basic exercises I gave you, Merlin?" asked Leon.

"When do I have time?" whined Merlin.

Arthur frowned, "You'll have time once you've found me the new servant I asked you for. I want you at arms practice at least an hour a day."

"That's excellent, Highness. "We'll make a knight out of Merlin yet," said Gwaine.

"You only asked me ten minutes ago, Arthur," hissed Merlin.

Leon frowned at the idea of making Merlin a knight. "Since you don't care for basic exercises, Gwaine and I came up with something easier for you to start with." Leon pulled a square board from behind his back, showed it to Merlin and then set it on his head. "Walk, to the corner of the castle and back."

Merlin's lips disappeared as he drew in a breath, which was enough for the board to slide off.

Leon caught it and put it back on his head. "You have to keep your back straight, Merlin. You tend to sway a lot at the shoulders and you really don't have the mass to justify that. Even if you did, it would have to be trained out of you."

"How am I supposed to walk with a board on my head?" demanded Merlin.

"The girls do it all the time," teased Gwaine.

"Well, I'm not a girl am, I?" snapped Merlin.

"I have occasionally wondered," tittered Arthur.

Merlin's eyes slid toward the Prince. "If you want to continue comments like that one, Arthur, I suggest you not question too closely what meat you find in your dinner."

Gwaine shook his head slowly, his grin widening. He took the board from Merlin's head, took two steps back and set it on his own head. Then he drew his sword and went through the sword positions exercise that Leon had set Merlin, changing the positions of his weapon and his feet with the fluidity of water. Admittedly, the exercise was very basic and Gwaine did it at half speed, but the board never once wavered. Gwaine sheathed his sword and doffed the board like a cap, holding it out to Merlin, who snatched it, grumbling. He set it back on his head and set off toward his assigned goal with the two knights following, alternately encouraging and heckling.

Arthur turned away, chuckling, to find Kay watching the lesson with a frown.

"That man is a knight?" asked Kay incredulously, pointing after the little group.

"Merlin? Merlin is my servant," explained Arthur, still chuckling. Kay might have been called by Nimueh's spell, but that didn't mean that Arthur was ready to explain more than was absolutely needful to him. "He's ended up watching my back more times than I'm happy about so I decided he needed some actual arms training. The word 'hopeless' springs to mind, but somehow Merlin keeps surviving battles, so there must be some ability in that scrawny frame."

"I'm surprised you let a servant speak so to you, Highness?" asked Kay quizzically.

Arthur looked after Merlin and wondered if that was part of the spell too. He decided that it probably was and yet he looked forward to trading jibes with Merlin. Even those close to his own rank tended to treat him with a reverence that left him feeling isolated. That seemed less true of the knights called by the spell and he gravitated toward those who could treat him as human sometimes instead of always as Royalty. "He's an idiot and lives in terror of almost everything, but he'll do anything for me, including tell me the truth when I least want to hear it, even if it means taking a beating or spending time in the stocks."

Kay's tentative smile seemed unsure whether Arthur was serious or making a joke.

Arthur touched Kay's sword with his own. "But let's see what you can do, shall we?"

"Indeed!" replied Kay enthusiastically.

Arthur and Kay put on their helmets and took their opening stances . Arthur again noted that Kay's stance was odd and not very stable. He signaled that Kay should attack, which he did by running at Arthur with an overhand swing, an attack that Arthur easily side stepped. Kay turned and swung in one motion, further putting himself off balance. Arthur caught the blow on his sword and shoved, throwing Kay backward. The larger knight stumbled, but managed to keep his feet. Arthur spent the most of the next hour beating Kay around the training ground, testing in every way his speed, skill and reflexes. He determined that Kay was not very fast in his movements, which was probably why he depended on over powering and over awing an opponent. This probably worked well against bandits, but wouldn't get him past the first level in a single elimination tourney. He was strong; whenever Arthur caught his blow on his shield he could feel that strength all the way up his arm. But Arthur knew how to take such blows so that his legs absorbed as much of the strike as his arm, something which Kay clearly did not understand.

Finally, Arthur drove into Kay's chest, knocking him to the ground, and brought his sword to the man's throat. "Enough!" ordered Arthur, frowning down at the fallen knight. He dearly hoped that the man wasn't such a fool that he couldn't be trained up.

Kay glanced down at the sword and then up at Arthur, his eyes shining with respect. "Truly, my Prince, you are the greatest warrior of Camelot!"

Arthur pulled back his sword and offered Kay his hand, very much aware that it would hardly take the greatest warrior of Camelot to defeat Kay. Kay took his hand with a grin and clamored to his feet while Arthur searched for a way to express his disappointment diplomatically. "From your size, I had rather hoped for a better contest, Sir Kay."

Kay's smile faded. "Indeed, Sire, I had hoped to make a better showing myself."

Arthur nodded and took a half step closer to Kay, drawing him into a confidence. "I would not wish to say so too loudly, but too many of those arriving from their estates are not up to my standards." Kay visibly wilted, but Arthur continued, "You are one of the few I have hopes of, but I can see that it will take some work."

Kay brightened a bit, though with some desperation. "Oh, Sire, I have never been afraid of work! I always thought myself a proper knight, but you have shown me that that was only because I had not a proper measure. I should have come to Camelot years ago!"

Arthur looked into Kay's face, judging him to be several years his senior, but not too old to learn. "Very well then, I'll try to make some time to teach you myself, but I hope you will understand that my duties keep me busy. Sir Leon is one of the best teachers in Camelot," said Arthur, pointing to where Leon was now working with Gwaine and Merlin with sword and shield. "Indeed, he gave me some of my early lessons and helped me sort out many of my faults. Come on, I'll speak to him about tutoring you."

"My Lord!" called an armsman, running toward Arthur. He ducked his head as he reached him. "The King requests your presence immediately."

From the man's manner, Arthur deduced that his Father was annoyed at him. "Duty calls," he said to Kay, saluting him with his sword.

Kay held out his hand to take the practice sword from Arthur. "I understand, my Lord, and I promise to ask Sir Leon if he would do me the honor of helping me to become a better knight at the earliest opportunity."

Arthur let him take the sword and slapped his shoulder in approval before following the armsman. He couldn't resist a look back at Merlin, who was standing up under a furious barrage by Gwaine against his shield. For all his strength, Arthur doubted that Kay could have taken those blows without falling. Gwaine backed off and exclaimed, "Merlin, you have the most uneven set of skills I have ever seen!"

Arthur couldn't help snickering as Merlin whined, "I can't help what Arthur does or doesn't make me practice!"

Arthur followed the arms man back to the council chamber, where he found Uther pacing.

"How dare you dismiss the council without my leave," seethed Uther before Arthur could say a word.

"You were asleep, Father," explained Arthur patiently.

Uther picked the blanket Arthur had wrapped around him from his chair and shook it at Arthur. "I am your King! I do not need to be swaddled like a babe in arms before my council!"

"Yes, Sire," said Arthur, clearly unrepentant.

Tossing the blanket to the table, Uther came close to his son, his eyes staring and his jaw locked in fury. "You seek to undermine me."

"I seek to support you, Father," said Arthur firmly.

"How? By making me look weak?" snapped Uther.

"You are weak, Father. You have not recovered from your illness." Uther tried to interrupt, but Arthur spoke over him. "Everyone can see that. All I can do is give you my support and hope that encourages others to do likewise. Can't you see that?"

"I see that you try to make me look the fool."

"And you treat me like a child!" said Arthur stridently. "If we can not work together, Father, Morgana will find us easy meat."

"I'm not sure that it's my daughter I need to worry about," snapped Uther.

"Fine, make her your heir then. I'm sure she'll have you back in the dungeon in under a week."

Uther bowed his head and put his hand over his eyes.

Arthur softened at this show of weakness. "Father, I care about you, I respect you, and if I sometimes disagree with you, it's only because I've grown up, not because I can't wait to put you out to pasture."

Uther raised his face, his eyes hard once again. "Don't cozen me."

"As you will then, Sire," said Arthur, his own voice hardening. "Next time I'll just kick you under the table, shall I?" Uther tried to protest, but Arthur again overrode him. "In the meantime, I have work to do. All those knights you called off their estates need to be trained. I actually found one with some promise; Ector's son, Kay."

"Ector's son?" asked Uther, visibly startled.

"Yes, do you know him?"

"No, I've never met him," said Uther looking away. "Ector was a good knight in his day; ready to do whatever was asked of him."

"Still is apparently. He's here as well, though I haven't seen him yet."

Uther snorted. "Probably down with the gout. That was why he retired."

Arthur swallowed his comments about trying to defend Camelot with the old and the ill. "By your leave, Sire?" he said bowing.

Uther frowned but seemed distracted as he waved Arthur out.

Chapter Text

Arthur sat at his desk going over the reports from the border garrisons. The light from the windows had begun to dim and he was just wondering if Merlin would turn up to light the candles or he'd have to do it himself when his servant walked in carrying a laundry basket. "I thought you took care of the laundry earlier in the day," Arthur grumbled.

Merlin carefully closed the door behind him. "I did, but I can't be seen carrying this around the castle if I want to keep my head attached to shoulders." Merlin set the laundry basket on Arthur's desk and slipped a book out from between the folded sheets.

Arthur took one look and jumped rather higher than he would have if Merlin had pulled out a live snake. He hissed, "That's a book of magic."

"Necromancy, as a matter of fact," answered Merlin, just as if he handled books of magic every day, which now that Arthur thought of it, he probably did. "You asked me to figure out how to summon your mother; I thought I'd start by reading this."

"So why bring it to me?" demanded Arthur, still stunned.

"Because I can't take it to my room. If Gaius sees it, he'll ask questions and I don't think he'll approve."

"Where did you get that anyway?"

"The castle library."

"There are magic books in the castle library?" asked Arthur incredulously.

"If you know where to look," said Merlin, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

"So why not leave it there?"

"Because, if I'm constantly in the library, Geoffrey is going to want to know why and might come looking for me."

"So these magic books aren't just out where anyone can find them, they're hidden somehow and you don't want Geoffrey to find them?"

Merlin nodded.

Arthur gritted his teeth. "By law any books of magic are supposed to be burned."

Merlin pursed his lips. "That's up to you, Arthur, but I'm going to have a devil of a time figuring out how to do what you ask if you're constantly going to be burning my research materials."

Arthur stared intently at the book in Merlin's hand feeling as though he'd just been kicked hard in the stomach. Why did he have to keep making the same decision? If he followed the law and burned the book, he should also execute Merlin. If he kept Merlin, and didn't let him practice, his power would be a constant temptation, a temptation Arthur knew he couldn't resist. Arthur wondered if Uther was ever tempted to ask Gaius to perform just one more piece of magic.

Merlin leaned closer to Arthur. Softly he said, "This isn't just about your mother either, Arthur. Morgana has sent undead against Camelot three times. She'll do it again. I need to know more about how to defeat her creatures."

Arthur looked up at Merlin with lost eyes and gulped. "You're my sorcerer, Merlin. If you say you need the book, then, I suppose, you do, though, I want it under lock and key when you aren't reading it."

"It would be better to hide it."

"Things that are hidden can be found."

"And things that are locked up can be unlocked. I've got a couple of great spells for that."

Annoyance reduced the sick feeling Arthur had been having and he straightened his shoulders. "Find someplace to put it and I'll tell you if it's good enough. Don't forget there will soon be another servant in this room and they can't find it."

"All right, Arthur," said Merlin, beginning to look around for a hiding place they could agree on.

"Did you find someone yet?"

"Felton will start tomorrow."

"Know him well?"

Merlin looked at Arthur uncomfortably. "I don't think I know any of the other servants well, Arthur. I spend all my time with either you or Gaius. Felton's worked in the palace for years and I've not heard complaints against him. That's about the best I can do."

Arthur snorted. "I sincerely hope you're a better sorcerer than you are a servant, Merlin."

Merlin's answer was not comforting. "I tend to make bigger messes as a sorcerer, Arthur, but I still usually clean them up on my own."

Sir Leon returned to the armory late that night. Just as he reached the door and was about to open it, he heard a wooden clatter and a soft swear. Opening the door just a crack, he stopped to listen. He heard heavy breathing, then another clatter and a somewhat louder swear. Creeping inside, Leon peeked around a corner and found Kay, with his back to the entrance, trying to do swordwork with a board on his head. Laughter twitched across Leon's face, but he quickly stifled it as the board fell yet again. Leon stepped forward, snatching the board from the ground.

Kay turned swiftly to find himself face to face with a now serious Leon. "Sir Leon!" Kay said startled and turning red to the tips of his ears. He stammered a bit, wanting to explain his behavior. "I, well, I saw Sir Gwaine do it and I thought…"

"Good," interrupted Leon. "We need men who can think. Sir Gwaine is one of the best fighters in Camelot, rivaling Arthur himself. You could do much worse than to imitate him." More kindly, Leon added, "Would you like some help sorting out your footwork?"

"If it wouldn't be an inconvenience," said Kay, glancing down in embarrassment. "I was always the best fighter on my father's estate, but here…"

"Here, we are going to get you trained up to be one of the best fighters in the world," said Leon firmly. "The Knights of Camelot don't accept second best."

Trumpets blared. All of Camelot's nobility gathered in the throne room. Agravaine set Uther's crown on Arthur's head. Arthur stepped down from his throne. A dagger thrown at the dais. Morgana woke with a start, sitting up in her four poster bed, desperately grasping at the scraps of the dream. Arthur. Arthur was the only one on the dais. The dagger had definitely been thrown at him. Who had thrown it? Her eyes flicked back and forth, her mind scurrying after her vision. Sir Tremayne, a loyal knight of Camelot, stiff-necked and proud. She held the image of the knight's face in her mind. Why would Tremayne throw a knife at Arthur?

Shakily, she reached for the cup of water on her night table. Holding it in both hands, she considered the possibilities. She'd have to remember to ask Agravaine about Tremayne's loyalties the next time she met him. Annoyed she threw back her covers and went to the window, peering out into the courtyard of her manor house. Uther hadn't even given her an estate with a proper keep. Only one small village of peasants tilled the land for her maintenance as compared to Lloegyr, Arthur's estate, which boasted not only five such villages, but a proper keep and also a horse farm with the best breeding stock in all the Isle. And just to add insult, the estate lay halfway to the border, a day and a half's good ride to Camelot itself. Morgana gripped her cup tightly. If Uther thought he could exile her and keep her from knowing what went on in the palace, he was sorely mistaken.

The only fortunate thing about this estate was that it was in the same direction from Camelot as her hut. She could make it there in a day. Agravaine and she could continue to use her former dire residence as a meeting place, but that was hardly enough to recommend it.

Morgana climbed back between the sheets, reveling in the softness after having to make do for so long with only rough blankets. Why did visions always have to end at the most tantalizing moment? To have seen Arthur skewered would have lulled her back to sleep nicely. She sighed and made do with her own imaginings of that event.

Merlin heard Arthur's voice in the corridor and bolted behind Arthur's dressing screen. He snatched up the cloak he'd left there and settled it over his shoulders, thinking, as he had in the tailor's shop earlier that morning when he'd suddenly realized what he was wearing, "Arthur's going to kill me." He'd gone there that morning to pick up the clothes that Guinevere had ordered for him and the tailor had insisted that he try them on for fit. Looking down at himself, he'd received a shock that he couldn't cover hastily enough and he'd had to do some fast talking to convince the tailor that he only thought the clothes were too fine for someone like him.

"Merlin?" called Arthur, entering the room.

"I'm behind the screen, Arthur. Close the door, will you?" asked Merlin, tense with the thought that that might have sounded like an order and Arthur didn't take well to Merlin bossing him around even when he needed it.

"Why?" asked Arthur in a hard voice.

"Because you're going to yell at me," Merlin quavered.

Merlin heard the door shut and Arthur called out, "All right then."

"Try to remember that this was your idea and I didn't pick these," said Merlin before stepping out from behind the screen.

At first glance, Arthur's countenance held only annoyance, then his mouth dropped open in surprised fury. "What the devil?"

"It's not my fault," insisted Merlin miserably, glancing again at what he was wearing. Charcoal leather boots buckled with steel buckles around his thin ankles. The loose slate gray trousers escaped being baggy but were of far softer material than Merlin was used to. A long sleeved cream colored tunic peeked out from under a black vest that laced up the front through steel grommets. But it was the a full length heavy woolen gray cloak lined to a tunic length in light blue silk that Merlin suspected would most annoy Arthur.

Arthur walked closer to Merlin, staring. "Those are the clothes you wear in the dream!"

Worriedly, Merlin fell back half a step. "I didn't order them, Arthur, Guinevere did."

The Prince hissed, "How could Guinevere know what you wear in that dream?"

"I don't think she does, Arthur," said Merlin shaking his head. "I think the dream has a prophetic quality to it, like Kay becoming clearer just before he showed up in Camelot."

Arthur snorted as he walked around Merlin.

"I don't have to wear them, Arthur," said Merlin, whipping his head around, trying to follow his master's progress behind his back.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course you have to wear them, Merlin. If you don't, Guinevere will be offended. In fact you need to tell her how much you like them."

"I do like them; I'm just terrified I'll get them dirty."

"Then you wash them." Arthur clapped a hand on Merlin's shoulder and grinned at him wolfishly. "Go find Guinevere and show her how pretty you look."

Merlin grimaced at him. "I'd tell you to leave me out of your romance, Arthur, but I doubt you could manage it on your own."

Arthur pitched him out the door. Merlin was just glad that he opened it first.

Merlin desperately tried to think of what he was going to tell Arthur as Sir Kay dragged him into Arthur's quarters, his arm pulled painfully up behind his back. Arthur looked up from the report he was reading in the evening light streaming from the window behind his desk.

"I apologize for the intrusion, Sire," said Sir Kay, releasing Merlin with a shove meant to toss him to his knees, "but either you have the clumsiest servant in all of Camelot, or the fellow is doing it deliberately."

Merlin managed to keep his feet, barely, and skittered to one side of Arthur's desk.

With a jerk of his shoulders, Arthur said, "I do have the clumsiest servant in all of Camelot. I take it; he's responsible for the state of your clothes?" He nodded to the mess on Sir Kay's shirt which should have been his dinner, some of which was also clinging to Merlin's new clothes.

Sir Kay puffed up his chest. "One shirt, I would not complain of, but this fellow's spoiled three in the last few days."

"I did offer to wash them, my Lord," said Merlin nervously.

"Then there was the dirty bathwater he drenched me with," said Sir Kay indignantly.

"I tripped," shrugged Merlin.

"And I can't prove he did it, but it seems a great coincidence that that bees' nest fell on me just as your servant was leaning out a window above me."

"Oh now, that was much too far for me to have reached," said Merlin shaking his head.

Arthur's frown clearly asked if Merlin had used magic to effect that trick.

Sir Kay saw Arthur's apparent agreement to his charges and pressed on, "I've kept quiet so far because I didn't want to embarrass you, Highness, but I must insist that creature be punished."

"Merlin, what do you have to say for yourself?" asked Arthur sternly.

Merlin stammered, unable to come up with any reasonable defense without breaking his promise to Gwen. "I'm sorry?"

Sir Kay glared at Merlin. "Perhaps a day or three in the stocks would teach him to look where he's going, Highness."

"Arthur Pendragon, don't you dare," came a feminine voice from the doorway.

The three men turned to see Guinevere enter slowly, her mouth tight and her eyes flashing.

Merlin flipped his fingers to shoo her out. "The stocks have never taught me anything before, Arthur, but if you want to try it again, I've no objection."

"Oh ho," said Sir Kay, giving her a jaunty grin and sauntering back to Guinevere. "Is he your beau then? I should have suspected as much." His fingers reached for her cheek.

Guinevere jerked her chin away. "Merlin only did as I asked, my Lord. You should not punish him for trying to save me embarrassment."

"Perhaps if you'd been a bit friendlier," began Sir Kay, taking a step closer and reaching to stroke her hair.

Arthur crossed the distance between them as though it wasn't there and snatched Sir Kay' seeking hand so roughly that he turned the larger knight to face his scowl. "He's not her beau," growled Arthur through gritted teeth, "I am."

Sir Kay gave Arthur an apologetic smile and bowed his head slightly. "Then you should teach the tart to speak up, my Lord. I certainly wouldn't poach."

Arthur's eyes widened with anger at the insult to his Lady. He growled, "Merlin, take Guinevere home, now."

Merlin blew out a breath and hurried past the knights. He linked his arm with Guinevere's and pulled her into the corridor as she called out, "No, Arthur, don't!" Merlin had to grab hold of her upper arm with his free hand to keep her moving. At the top of the stairs she started to actively struggle to be free of him and he transferred his linked arm to around her waist.

"It will be all right, Gwen," Merlin tried to reassure her. "Sir Kay isn't nearly the fighter Arthur is."

Tears began to flow silently down her face as he hauled her down the stairs still struggling. Cringing, Merlin knew he couldn't drag her all the way home like that, no matter what Arthur had ordered. He changed directions, heading for the knights' quarters and hoping that Elyan would be in. The pair got more than a few stares on the way, but no one tried to interfere between them, despite Gwen's yelping to be let go. Doors opened and heads popped out as they approached the knights' quarters. Fortunately, one of them was Elyan's.

"Elyan," Merlin called out, as soon as he saw him, "help me with her."

Elyan ran to them and took his sister in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. "What happened?" he demanded of Merlin as he stroked Gwen's hair.

Leon motioned those knights who were still staring back into their rooms and closed his own door as soon as the corridor was clear of spectators.

"Tell him," commanded Merlin, releasing her to him fully and stepping back. "Elyan won't have to fight. Arthur has a gauntlet down by now for sure."

Guinevere clung to her brother but refused to speak. Elyan swung his sister gently in his arms and looked to Merlin for more of an explanation.

"Sir Kay has been… pestering Gwen. Arthur found out," said Merlin, leaving out his own involvement.

"Why didn't you tell me?" asked Elyan, lifting his sister's chin so she would look at him. He wiped away some of her tears with his sleeve.

"I didn't want you to fight him," said Guinevere dully. "I don't want Arthur to fight him. I don't want either of you to get hurt for me." Gwen tried to push away from her brother, but he pulled her close and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"Silly girl," said Elyan gently. "What do you think knights do all day? We do nothing but train to fight in a good cause. And I can't think of any better cause."

Gwen hid her face against his shoulder.

Elyan rocked her in his arms and tried to reassure her. "Arthur is the greatest knight in Camelot. He's certainly not going take hurt in such a battle. Sir Kay should be very afraid."

"Do you think I want anyone's blood on my hands?" demanded Gwen, choking slightly on her tears.

Elyan looked at a loss as to how to comfort his sister, though he again attempted to dry her tears with his sleeve. He tried to dismiss Merlin, "I'll take care of her."

Merlin untied his kerchief from around his neck and offered it to Elyan. "Arthur ordered me to take her home. I think it might take both of us, the state she's in."

Elyan had only slightly better luck with Merlin's kerchief than he'd had with his sleeve. "You might be right," he cringed.

Elyan turned his sister around, keeping his arm around her waist and her head on his shoulder. They started off together slowly. Merlin walked a little in front, hiding them slightly from view and staring down anyone who gaped at Gwen's tears. When they came close to Gwen's house, Merlin ran ahead, intending to get a fire going.

Opening the door Merlin found Arthur and Sir Kay waiting on the far side of the room.

"Merlin, where is Guinevere?" demanded Arthur.

His words tumbling, Merlin said, "Elyan is bringing her. She's in such a state, Arthur. I thought I'd get a kettle on. Something warm might steady her."

Arthur nodded to Merlin to proceed and pinned Sir Kay with an icy glare. Sir Kay wisely ducked his head, but watched Merlin out of the corner of his eye, noting that the servant clearly knew where everything was in this household as he fetched out cups and herbs for tea.

Elyan froze with Gwen on the threshold, demanding, "What is he doing here?" His eyes held only a wish for a sword.

"Get on with it," Arthur impatiently prompted Sir Kay.

Sir Kay advanced a step and dropped to one knee. "Lady Guinevere, I most humbly beg your pardon. I behaved shamefully and without honor. Do what you will with me. I am yours to command." He bowed his head, awaiting her judgment.

Gwen's tears dried abruptly and her mouth dropped open in shock. Elyan and Merlin looked no less surprised, but Elyan had the presence of mind to guide Gwen two steps further into the room so that he could close the door and stay a step behind her, granting her both privacy and primacy.

"I don't know what to say," faltered Gwen, but she stood as straight as any queen.

"It would be appropriate," said Arthur, pacing slowly to her side, "to grant Sir Kay a quest to complete in your honor. Of course, if you do not wish to grant him your pardon, I will still be pleased to insist on my challenge."

"I don't know of any quests," she breathed.

Arthur leaned close to Gwen. "Sir Kay's behavior was insulting enough that I don't think you should let him off with a simple pardon. Make him earn it. We can wait."

"Oh," Gwen sighed, searching her mind for anything that might satisfy Arthur and keep him from calling Sir Kay out even if she granted her pardon. Merlin knelt to drop herbs into the now boiling kettle, calling her attention to him and sparking an idea. "Merlin, would the morteus flower be useful to Gaius?"

A slow smile crept across his lips. "Yes, I believe there are several uses for its' different parts, the flower as well as the stem and roots."

"Very well. Sir Kay, I wish you to pick me a bag of morteus plants and present them to the court physician with my compliments."

Sir Kay looked up at her nonplused. "You wish me to pick a bag of herbs, my Lady?"

Arthur grinned. "That's a capital quest." Looking down at Sir Kay he boasted, "Of course, I already killed the cockatrice that was guarding them, but the creature might have had young somewhere. Beware of beautiful women, because if that witch catches you, I doubt she'll leave you alive. You'll need to figure out a way to get onto the cliff face to pick the plants. The ledge I used crumbled under my feet. Other than that, you just need to watch out for the giant spiders. Well, they aren't giant really, just the size of a man's head." By this time, Sir Kay had blanched two shades. Conspiratorially, Arthur continued, "They may be herbs, but it's not the kind of thing I can send Merlin out to collect."

"A worthy quest indeed," nodded Sir Kay, his voice tight with apprehension.

"Come on then," Arthur gestured Sir Kay up from the floor. "I'll get you a map." He clapped Kay on the shoulder as they headed off to make preparations.

Merlin nodded to Gwen and started to follow them, but she laid a hand on his arm to prevent him. "Merlin, did I just send that man to his death?" she asked, her eyes begging for it not to be so.

Merlin leaned close and murmured, "The cockatrice is dead, the witch is dead, he should be fine." He gave her a smile, which she returned slightly, and clapped Elyan on the shoulder as he passed, leaving the siblings alone to sort out the day.

It was late in the evening and Gaius and Merlin had each settled down to a book when Sir Kay barged through Gaius' door. Both men rose as the big knight staggered through the door and dropped a bag on the book that Gaius had just been reading. "With the Lady Guinevere's compliments," he panted. Spotting Merlin, he stalked around the table after him.

Merlin scrambled over the bench he'd been sitting on and backed up until his heels hit the shelves lining Gaius' chamber.

With no little bit of mayhem in his eyes, Kay raised a hand. His fingers curled until only one finger waggled in Merlin's face. "Next time," his deep voice rumbled, "just tell me if I'm making a fool of myself."

"Does that happen often, milord?" queried Merlin mischievously.

"Sometimes," breathed Kay. Then he laughed heartily and clapped Merlin on the shoulder hard enough to rattle the glass on the shelves behind him.