"Gwaine?''
''Yes?''
''What are you doing?''
''What does it look like?''
Merlin studied the tableau before him. Gwaine was standing on one of the castle battlements, one foot resting on a box, his hands resting on the pommel of his sword, which had its tip dug into a block of wood at his feet. His hair was swept back with some kind of grease and looked like it was blowing in the nonexistent wind. He was also shirtless, though his cape was draped across his shoulders and also arranged to look like it was billowing.
''You've gone mad?'' Merlin guessed.
''Ha. Nope. Guess again.''
''Why aren't you moving when you talk to me?''
''Can't lose the pose.''
Merlin noticed the five or six people clustered back in the room that was behind them, all staring intently at Gwaine or at easels set up in front of them. He sidled into the room and looked at their drawings.
It was Gwaine, in the same pose, but they had turned the box into various things — a fallen knight, an enormous lion, a troll, a pile of gold. The sword was sunk into various things, though usually it was the ground.
''Why are you sketching him?'' he asked. The nearest artist waved a hand dreamily.
''Look at him. He's a gift to the industry. You're the King's servant, aren't you?''
''Um, yes?''
''Do you know any of the other knights?''
''Yes?''
''Could you get a few more up here? Especially that big one that never wears sleeves. We wouldn't even need him to take his shirt off.'' There was a sigh of contemplation from all the artists.
''No, seriously, what is going on here?'' Merlin squawked. ''Why do you want to draw a bunch of shirtless men? I mean, I know one reason, but I don't understand why you want Gwaine.''
Gwaine winked at him. ''Why not? I could use some extra funds and they need a model for the new line of books.''
''Books?'' Merlin echoed, horrified.
''Haven't you heard about the new printing press?''
''Oh, well, yeah . . . But it doesn't do pictures, does it?''
''These are for the covers of the books,'' said one of the artists impatiently. ''Now would you please move? You're blocking the light.''
''Sorry.'' Merlin went out to join Gwaine again, staying out of the artists' line of sight. He lowered his voice to a hiss. ''If Arthur finds out you're doing this, more people than you will be trouble. You're a Knight of the Round Table! You've got an image to maintain!''
''Nah. They're changing the face up so it doesn't really look like me. That's a loss for everyone, but it's safer.''
''But —" Merlin sputtered.
''Seriously, Merlin, it's all under control.''
0000
He finally found out what it was all about some weeks later, when he had almost forgotten that strange afternoon. He was in the kitchens, fetching Arthur's breakfast, when he saw the cheap little book lying face-down on a chair. It had the picture of Gwaine on it, the iteration with his foot resting on a troll. There was a young woman also in the picture, standing behind him with her hands clasped. She was wearing a very impractical dress.
''The Shield of Love?'' Merlin accidentally squeaked.
One of the senior kitchenmaids picked up the book and slipped it into her apron pocket. ''Oh yes! Have you read it?''
''No!'' he protested.
''He's so handsome,'' she sighed. ''Looks a bit like Sir Gwaine. I told him so and he actually blushed!''
''Uh . . . uh, yeah. Not really my kind of book, you know?''
She smiled benevolently at him. ''No, I suppose not. You know, they could do one of these about you. They've all been about knights so far, but I could see one about a servant who becomes a prince or something.''
''Sorry, I have to go!'' he blurted, and ran from the kitchens.
He saw more and more of the books in the next few weeks, all with similar titles, like 'Beseiged Love' or 'Tournament Of the Heart'. And they all had the Gwaine-man on the cover, with a rotating supply of simpering girls behind him, at his side, or occasionally clutched protectively to his chest. That was a pose Merlin hadn't seen him doing.
Then he saw one with Leon on it, and actually fainted in the kitchens.
0000
''Relax, Merlin. They're just romance novels,'' said Gwen. ''I've read a couple. They're not very good, but it keeps people entertained. There's no harm in them.''
''But the knights —''
''Are doing it for fun. And it also makes them look strong to the people. Think about it. If every woman in Camelot is reading stories about these heroes and the illustrations remind them of our knights, it makes them trust us.''
Merlin stared at her. ''Did you plan this?''
She smiled. ''The idea wasn't mine, but I helped it along. Anyway, we do have a very pretty batch of knights right now and seemed a shame to let them go to waste. Close your mouth, Merlin, you look like a fish.''
''Is Arthur going to be on one?''
''I don't know. When he finds out that everyone else has been, he probably will be jealous.''
''Everyone?''
Gwen rummaged through her wardrobe and pulled out five books. ''Gwaine and Leon tend to be used for the more generic knight stories. Elyan gets picked for the exotic desert ones. Percival is a favorite for the 'farmhand remembers he's a noble' plots. And Mordred has only been on one or two, but they always want him to be the sorcerer who secretly serves the King. Are you all right?''
''Yeah. Yeah. It's just strange.''
Merlin stared down at the books, and the half-recognizable faces of the Knights, with or without much of their clothing, stared back.
''Actually, I was hoping you'd pose for the next one,'' said Gwen, and she chuckled as Merlin's face turned beet red. ''Don't worry, you don't have to take off your shirt. You won't really even have your face showing. They want someone with mysterious eyes.''
Merlin's speechlessness must have been mistaken for hesitation, because she went on, ''I think the title is 'Destiny and Chicken', or something along those lines, though I'm not too sure about the chicken part.''
''I'll do it!'' Merlin said. ''But only if that's the exact title. That's my condition. That and my eyes are the only part of me uncovered.''
He then collapsed into a fit of giggles.
0000
Merlin was quite pleased with how his cover turned out. They'd made him into a dark figure looming in the shadows, holding an unsheathed sword and glaring menacingly at a small chicken. He hadn't bothered to read the actual story, but Gwen assured him that the chicken was his nemesis, enchanted into animal shape, and it was the climactic scene of the book.
The Knights (and Merlin) continued on with their surprisingly profitable modeling career for nearly two years before Arthur realized what was going on, and that was only because he got accidentally locked in a linen cupboard where there happened to be a stack of the novels. His bellowing was so loud it helped them find him hours before anyone else was due to walk down that hallway.
''Why didn't you tell me?'' he shouted when they freed him. He waved away their excuses. ''Even Merlin is on them! Yes, Merlin, I know it was you. I can recognize your vacant stare anywhere. But why does every woman in Camelot and probably half the men get to stare at you being heroic when it should be me? I'm the damn King!''
Merlin patted him soothingly on the shoulder. ''It's all right, Arthur. You have the biggest muscles of everyone here. We were just trying out the new way of spreading your public image.''
Arthur glared around at his knights. ''Is that true?''
''Yes, sire.''
''Absolutely.''
''Spot-on, princess.''
''We didn't want it to backfire on you.''
Percival nodded.
Arthur readjusted his tunic, which was horribly wrinkled from three hours stuck in a closet. ''Well, I'll go down and have them start painting me.''
''Actually, Gwen's who you go to,'' Merlin redirected. ''She can set you up with an artist and a publisher. There's more than one printer now.''
Arthur huffed himself away, leaving the knights staring at Merlin. ''That was some quick thinking,'' said Leon.
Gwaine clapped Merlin on the back. ''Nice going.''
''Morgana reads them,'' said Mordred.
There was a thoughtful silence. Then Elyan began to laugh. Soon they were all laughing so hard they had to lean against the walls. ''I wish I could see her face when she finds one with Arthur on the cover!'' said Leon eventually.
''I could —'' Merlin hesitated.
''What?''
''I've gotten pretty good at scrying. I could bring it up when it happens.''
They all eyed him thoughtfully, except for Mordred. ''Didn't know you could scry,'' said Gwaine.
Merlin shrugged. ''I'm a sorcerer.''
''Whoa, really?'' said Percival. ''Lancelot told me to watch out for you because you had an important secret, but I didn't think that was it.''
''Does Arthur know?'' Leon asked.
''No,'' said Merlin. ''I think Gwen has strong suspicions, though.''
''Does he know about Mordred?''
''The sorcerer part or the double agent part?'' Merlin asked.
''Both.''
''He knows Mordred keeps druid contacts to watch Morgana, but he doesn't know anything else.''
''Right, then. It looks like it'll just be us watching her when it gets published.''
There was another round of snickering.
''Hey, could you make the pictures move?'' Elyan asked. ''That would be hilarious.''
0000
Two months later, the first romance novel with the King on its cover was published. Arthur had ordered a copy for himself.
It was a very special copy. The picture of the noble knight on the cover would occasionally move as he sneezed, dropped his sword, or sometimes tripped on thin air and fell face-first into a patch of mud.
Arthur was not amused. He shouted for Merlin.
What happened next was definitely not how Merlin had imagined telling Arthur his secret would happen.