A Prince in Frog Skin

by AelysAlthea

Arthur lived how he wanted. Exactly how he wanted. Unfortunately, as a prince, what he wanted didn't exactly follow the guidelines of what the rest of the world considered 'proper'. No one had the guts to do anything about it, however. No one until Nimueh. Thrown into decidedly impossible circumstances against his will and outside of his capacity to correct, Arthur is forced...

2. Chapter 2 - Hatching

A/N: Okay, I just have to say this because I love you: thank you mersan123 for your lovely review of the first chapter. It's so nice to see you again - you're such a considerate reader! - and I hope you like the story :)

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Chapter 2: Hatching

Merlin was woken quite suddenly and in an unfavourable but not entirely unfamiliar manner.

His breath gushed from his lungs as a heavy weight crashed upon him, was physically crushed by that weight, and when his eyes sprung open it was to see barely perceivable darkness before a pillow descended over his head. His sharp shout was cut of instantly into a muffle.

"Bastard, learn to pick up your bloody phone!"

The sound of Gwaine's voice was muffled through the pillow. Merlin struggled beneath him, batting blindly at the hands that attempted to smother him and wriggling beneath him as Gwaine straddled his torso. It ensued only briefly, however, only long enough for Gwaine to mutter off another string of curses and objections as to Merlin's 'laxness' as a friend, before the pillow was removed and Merlin could breath uninhibited once more.

He panted as he peered up into his friend's face, blinking aside his sleepy grogginess to pin him with a glare. "Gwaine, what the actual fuck?"

Gwaine's wide, white grin was visible through the darkness, entirely bereft of the anger that his words would otherwise suggest he held. He sat back heavily on his haunches – upon Merlin and thus crushed Merlin's breath from him once more – and reached a hand up to poke at the middle of Merlin's forehead. "You deserved it."

"Do you have any idea what the time is?" Merlin shifted beneath Gwaine, wriggling once more to dislodge him, but Gwaine was like an immoveable pillar; if he didn't want to be budged then he wouldn't be.

Gwaine shrugged. "About four in the morning, I think."

"And why the hell would you wake me up at four in the morning?" Merlin asked, slumping back onto his bed and raising a hand to rub at his forehead. "Most people sleep at that time."

"Well, you wouldn't answer my calls, so I had to walk here. You deserve some punishment for putting me out."

Merlin paused in his rubbing, turning a frown up at his friend. "What, you walked here from town."

"Yeah," Gwaine said, indignation touching his voice. "I just got in at, like, ten last night and tried to call you to come pick me up –"

"Why the bloody hell did you get in at ten o'clock at night? I thought you were leaving uni yesterday morning?"

Gwaine waved a disregarding hand at him. "Took longer than I expected."

Merlin snorted in a laugh. "You mean you got distracted by, I don't know, jumping off a cliff or something?"

"That was one time, Merls, and it was into water so it's hardly as bad as you make it sound."

Sighing, Merlin propped himself up on his elbows, dislodging Gwaine in his seat enough that he actually had the decency to roll onto the mattress instead. Reaching a hand towards his nightstand, Merlin fumbled at the switch and flooded his bedroom with light. He rubbed a hand at his eyes, ridding them of the last of their blurriness, and squinted towards Gwaine where he sat at his side, illuminated by the sudden brightness once more. "Wait, why did I have to come and pick you up?"

"'Cause I lent my car to Pell," Gwaine replied easily as he shifted around in his seat and rearranged the thin sheets around him. He was like a dog building his bed, as much for his scruffiness as anything. The impression was only enhanced by the dark stubble painting his jaw.

"Doesn't Pellinor have his own car?"

"Yeah, but it's a shitbox and he had to drive all the way to Essex. So I lent him mine instead."

"Oh, out of the goodness of your heart," Merlin said with a roll of his eyes. He wasn't feeling in a particularly congratulatory mood after his rude awakening. "So now you can get your poor, long-suffering friends to drive you around."

Gwaine flashed his bright grin, bright even in the relative lightness from the lamp. "You bet. What are friends for?" Then his smile slipped into an objectionable pout. "Or at least they are except that some friends in particular don't come to the party."

"You tried to call me at ten last night to pick you up from…?"

"Julie's pub," Gwaine supplied. "And yeah. But you ignored me!"

Choosing to overlook the presumption of Gwaine's request, Merlin sighed and slumped back into his pillows once more. "I lost my phone."

"Bollocks," Gwaine said instantly. "You broke it again, didn't you?"

"I love that you don't even question my excuse."

"That's because it's such a frequent excuse proved true that it's absolutely likely."

"Gee, thanks for that vote of confidence. But no, I didn't break it. I dropped it in the dam."

Gwaine loosed a bark of laughter. "Bloody hell, Merls, seriously?"

Merlin shot him a frown. "Hey, it wasn't my fault. I was startled by a frog."

Gwaine only laughed once more. "Oh, those terrifying frogs."

"It wasn't terrifying. Just a bit of a pain in the arse. You should've heard it, Gwaine; it almost would have rivalled you for presumptuousness, making demands and all that."

"You'll have to introduce us some time," Gwaine said with a nod and a smirk.

"Oh gladly," Merlin replied, sighing. "You two could have a competition. Provided, of course, that it hasn't been eaten by something already."

Gwaine only hummed in amusement before keeling over to slump into a recline beside Merlin, stretching along the length of his bed. He didn't ridicule Merlin's words, and though he might find them humorous he didn't believe it all a joke either. Merlin knew that for a fact. Gwaine was one of only a few people who knew of his ability to speak to animals, his mother and Will being another two and Lance a third. In Gwaine's case, however, he hadn't been expressly told as had Will and Lance. Most people considered that because Gwaine was loud and joking, blunt and often forcibly demanding of attention when he wasn't already the centre of it, that he was stupid. Those people would be wrong. Gwaine was smart, very smart, and in the years since Merlin had first met him in when he'd transferred to his school in senior years he'd reached the conclusion that his friend was also very observant. He was blond in all but the colour of his hair but that much was true. At times a big mouth and keen observation skills weren't a good combination, but at least in regard to Merlin's gift he'd remained unexpectedly and blessedly close-lipped.

Merlin loved Gwaine. He was the sort of person that was practically impossible not to love, but he'd genuinely cared for him for years now, even after they'd broken up after dating for barely six months. Gwaine was just like that; Merlin doubted he had an ex that he wasn't on amicable terms with. He was easy-going and friendly, always ready with a smile and a bad joke, laughed like a barking dog in a way that seemed to induce a similar response from those around him, and lived in the moment. It said something of him that his current degree was the third he'd chosen in as many years, switching back and forth multiple times between theatre, law and exercise science. How those three were in any way related Merlin didn't know, even if he could strangely see Gwaine pursuing each path with equal likelihood.

Alongside Will and Lance, Gwaine was Merlin's best friend. Unfortunately, that friendship also entailed putting up with abrupt intrusions with the pre-dawn that hadn't even managed to peek a feeble light around the trimmings of Merlin's curtains.

Closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead once more, Merlin sighed. "Did you wake up the whole house when you got here?"

"The whole house?" Gwaine said with a snort as he shifted himself to lie alongside Merlin. "What, all of you and your mum?"

"Will's here too."

"He is? Yes! I haven't seen that guy in ages. I could use some healthy banter."

"You mean taking the piss out of him," Merlin corrected with a sidelong glance. Gwaine only smirked, which was as good of a reply as any. "He'll tear you in half one day, and it'll be only your fault."

"Oh, come on, he loves it as much as I do."

"He really, really doesn't."

"Yes he does."

"Actually, I have it on good authority that he doesn't."

Gwaine chuckled, but even as he did Merlin saw his eyes slip shut. Gwaine was like that – he could go from being the life of the party to clocking out in a second. "You don't mind if I just commandeer your bed here, do you?" He asked, eyes still closed.

"Commandeer? I don't think you're using that term correctly if you're asking to share."

"Would you rather I kick you out and make it more accurate?"

"Please don't."

"Then don't complain."

Merlin sighed. Only Gwaine could make stealing half of someone's bed seem like leniency on his part. Merlin didn't mind, however. Gwaine was a pain in the arse, talked a million miles and hour and was generally an exhausting person to be around, but he was fantastic. Besides, like a switch he was out in a moment and Merlin was left in relative peace, staring sidelong at his friend as his breathing eased and his soft snores flooded the room.

Merlin didn't go back to sleep. Four o'clock was a little early for his usual awakening, but not by much. He and his mother were usually up and about before six most days, so instead of battling with the resistant desire to sleep Merlin climbed from bed and settled himself for an early morning shower. By the time the sun had rolled on out, he was in the kitchen and cooking up stacks of steaming American pancakes that were likely what drew Will from his own slumber. That or the fact that, growing up on his own parent's estate and assigned the duty to milk their half-dozen cows at the crack of dawn, he too had been instilled with the early-rising inclination.

Will had never endured those early mornings well, however. Merlin glanced over his shoulder at the sound of his stumbling entrance, as he nearly crashed into the kitchen doorway before lurching forwards to slump alongside Merlin against the counter. He rubbed a hand through his dirty blond hair before raising both hands to his face to scrub the heels of his palms into his eyes. Merlin was silent, allowing him his own time to awaken properly and continued with his baking.

"Was it just a dream or were you invaded by a burglar last night?" Will finally asked, voice still a little hoarse with sleep.

Merlin turned from the stovetop, a stack of pancakes in hand, and held them out to his friend. Will accepted them with an unintelligible murmur that Merlin took to be gratitude. "Maybe," he replied. "That or it could have just been Gwaine."

Will paused in the act of juggling butter and syrup scrounged from the fridge alongside his plate and turned narrowed eyes towards Merlin. "Are you fucking serious?"

"About what?"

"Why the fuck did he crash into your place at the arse-crack of dawn?"

Merlin grinned, turning back to the stove. "I think his explanation was that he had to walk the whole way from town because he didn't have a car."

Will was staring, still frowning, when Merlin glanced back over his shoulder towards. "What happened to his car?"

"He lent it to Pellinor, apparently."

"Why would he do that?"

Merlin shrugged. "'Cause he's a ridiculously altruistic kind of person?"

"Yeah, so altruistic that he lands the chauffeuring duties onto his friends instead because of it."

Merlin could only silently agree to that, nodding with a small smile as he picked up his own pancakes and followed Will into the dining room. Will was still muttering under his breath when they seated themselves. "So he walked the whole way here?"

"Apparently," Merlin said, accepting the syrup Will offered him.

"Why didn't he just call you?"

"My phone died, remember?"

"Oh, right. You mean you lost it."

"Same thing."

"Then why didn't he call me?" Will asked, though his face visibly twitched as though the mere thought horrified him.

Merlin shrugged. "This is Gwaine we're talking about. He probably just didn't think about it."

Will rolled his eyes as he stuffed what looked to be a whole pancake into his mouth. "You know, I don't believe you when you say he's really smart. I'm convinced he's a fucking idiot."

"Language, William," Hunith said as she drifted into the room carrying the laden plate that Merlin had left for her. She passed behind him with a brush of fingers across the back of his head. "Thank you for the breakfast, sweetheart."

"Your welcome," Merlin replied just as Will muttered a perfunctory "Sorry, Hunith".

They'd cleared up from breakfast and Merlin and Will had already made their way down to the stables, chatting idly as they slowly – far slower than Merlin had the previous day – loosed the horses from their stalls by the time Gwaine appeared. He was still yawning widely, had a streak of breakfast syrup on his chin and was still a mess dressed in the crinkled jeans and stained, unnecessarily warm jacket that he'd arrived in the previous night. But as stepped through the stable door and approached Merlin and Will it was with a broad grin that vanquished the last of his sleepiness. "Morning, ladies. How are we this fine day?"

"Speak for yourself, Sleeping Beauty," Merlin replied with a smile in reply.

"Much less well now you've arrived," Will added with a roll of his eyes, deliberately concentrating on unlocking Stampede from his stall.

He gave an indignant grunt as Gwaine stepped to his side and slung an arm around his shoulders, jostling him enough that Merlin could swear Will's teeth rattled. "Aw, did you miss me, Willy? Been a while since you've seen my handsome face."

"Dear God, if you call me Willy one more time," Will said, pinning Gwaine with a glare. Merlin knew he was all bark and no bite; Gwaine had been calling Will Willy to his face for years now. Though he might posture and preach, profess his disgruntlement for Gwaine's company, Merlin had known Will for as long as he could remember and knew better. Will was simply afflicted with the urge to maintain his disgruntlement rather than caving to Gwaine's overt friendliness. Will had always been stubborn and strangely reserved that way, at least when it came to personal friends.

"You love it," Gwaine said with another flash of his grin. He jostled Will once more as he cursed beneath his breath before reaching over to unlatch Tyson's stall and urging the horse out. He half-turned towards Merlin as he did. "We going for a ride, yeah? I haven't ridden in ages. Or at least not a horse." He winked suggestively at Merlin.

Merlin laughed, smirking as Will clicked his tongue and dodged from beneath Gwaine's arm to move on to the next stall. "Your crude sense of humour is shameful, Gwaine," Will grunted.

"You love it," Gwaine repeated.

"I don't."

"Yeah you do."

"No, I really don't."

"Yeah, sure," Merlin said, ignoring the banter in favour of answering Gwaine's question. "If you'd like. Before it gets too hot, though."

"It's a fucking heat wave at the moment, am I right?" Gwaine said, leaning against the edge of a stall and idly running his hand down Blitz's back as the gelding clopped past him out of the stable. "That's climate change for you."

"Yes, thank you for the meteorological lesson," Will said.

"Hey, I'm just speaking the truth," Gwaine asked, eyebrows rising indignantly.

"The truth as you see it, maybe."

"You don't agree with the climate change experts, Will? This is new."

"I didn't say that," Will replied, pointedly turning away from Gwaine. "I just don't agree with you."

"Even if I'm right?"

"You're never right."

"Ah, but that's just a matter of perspective."

"No, it's a matter of the facts…"

Merlin let them at it. They would always be going for one another's throats – or more correctly, Gwaine would be dancing around Will and baiting the bull while Will went for his throat – but it usually died down within a few hours. A few days at most. It was best not to intervene and let them get it out of their system.

Instead, Merlin set about muttering to the three horses he'd already unconsciously chosen for them that day. He and Hunith had eight of their own, mostly either related or adopted else from owners who didn't want them anymore. They were like family while the agisted horses were the long-term guests at the estate. Merlin knew each of them on an personal level, knew their likes and dislikes, habits and tendencies, and would always choose accordingly for the occasional tourists that decided to swing by and hire a ride for an hour.

He was standing at Mordred's stall, running his finger down the buckskin's snout when Gwaine finally detached himself from Will's side to swagger over to him. He looked thoroughly satisfied for the exchange he just left, his expression one worn after a hearty meal, and didn't appear the least bit perturbed when he reached a hand for Mordred and nearly had his fingers snapped off by the finicky horse. "So which is the lucky steed today?"

"For you?" Merlin asked, returning his fingers to Mordred as the colt nickered at him for attention once more. "Depends. Do you have a preference?"

"Other than not Mordred?"

"There's nothing wrong with Mordred," Merlin said, to Mordred's mutter of, "If anyone's got something wrong with them it's you, hairy man."

"His eyes are weird," Gwaine said without a touch of heat. It didn't even really sound like an offence coming from him.

"They're blue. How's that weird?"

"Horses aren't supposed to have blue eyes."

"What did he say?" Mordred asked, eyeballing Gwaine sceptically.

"He said you have beautiful eyes," Merlin translated.

"I most certainly did not," Gwaine replied indignantly.

Merlin shrugged, smiling as Mordred tossed his head with a slightly mollified grumble about the 'hairy man'. "I kind of like his eyes."

"Yeah, you would. He's basically your baby." Gwaine chuckled to himself at his own wit. "You even have matching noses."

Merlin glanced dubiously at his friend. "Matching noses?"

"Yeah, they're both pointy and kind of like a slippery-dip."

"That's how Arabs are supposed to be, you ignorama," Will said from behind him as he led Aisha from her stall. "And don't worry, Merlin, your nose isn't that bad."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Will," Merlin replied, shaking his head with a smile. Will likely said as much mostly to disagree with Gwaine anyway. "You sure you're right to take Aisha out?" He asked instead, gesturing to the white quarter horse that followed his step and nibbled at the back of his head. Aisha's filly, Aithusa, trotted behind her, ears pricked and practically glued to her mother's side. "She might be a bit pissy being away from Aithusa."

Will shrugged. "Gotta break the mother-daughter attachment at some point, right? Better that I do it, being at least a moderately accomplished rider, than ignorama over here."

Gwaine held up a hand in a placating gesture. "I will profess my ignorance on this point, though it is misguided, if you'll cease with that abominable term you keep using."

"No bingo."

"You're a little shit."

"Yep."

"I thought you could take Henchman out," Merlin said, ignoring Will's self-satisfied smirk.

"He's the big bay, yeah?" Gwaine said, turning back to Merlin and gesturing towards the only other horse still in his stall. "I love that guy's name."

"Yeah, he suits you," Will said. "You're both bastards."

"Actually, he's not a bastard," Merlin said idly. "Henchman's pretty pure blooded."

"You're missing the insinuation, Merlin."

"Not missing it at all, Will."

"Yes! Point to Gwaine," Gwaine cried with unnecessary volume, making his way to Henchman's stall and unslinging the saddle that was flung over the door. The hired hands must have left it out yesterday, Merlin considered idly. Probably Mitch. He'd have to ask him not to leave them out of the tack shed again. "See, Will? I'm right if Merlin agrees with me."

Will pouted objectionably. "Merlin's misguided because you used to date."

"That's not valid reasoning."

"Yes, it is, because…"

Merlin tuned out their renewed arguing as he turned back to Mordred. And this is why I don't get involved in these kind of friendly fights.

"They're very loud," Mordred commented, shifting pale gaze between Will and Gwaine disdainfully.

"They're just having fun," Merlin replied, drawing him out from his stall with a beckoning gesture.

"You're friends are mindless idiots," Mordred sighed with all the long-suffering of a world-weary parent.

He butted his head affectionately into Merlin's shoulder and Merlin rubbed a hand through his forelock with a smile. "Hey, aren't you only four years old? Where's all this maturity coming from?"

"I'm four only in years, Merlin. My maturity is far above that. Give me some credit."

Merlin shook his head, grinning at Mordred's continued muttering as he led the way out of the stables. Mordred had grown up quickly for a horse, had profound maturity and had shed his coltish ways over a year ago when his self-proclaimed 'girlfriend' Kara had moved away from the estate. He'd turned into something of a wistfully melancholic individual since then, though Merlin knew it to be mostly a farce. Mostly. The fact that he higher-order consideration for a lost love was evidence of the effect of growing up directly exposed to Merlin's conversations if nothing else was. Merlin wasn't sure whether he should feel apologetic or a little proud for that.

Gwaine and Will followed behind him with Will having progressed to resolutely ignoring Gwaine's attempts to bait him further. He fell into step alongside Merlin with a roll of his eyes that wasn't anywhere near as aggravated as he probably intended it to be. They followed in the wake of the trickle of loosed horses were making their way into the large paddock once more, all except for little Aithusa who seemed content to stick to Aisha's side.

"We'll probably have to walk her down," Will said, gesturing to her over his shoulder.

Merlin nodded. "Yeah. Maybe latch her onto Pigeon or something. She likes her."

"I like Pigeon. She's my favourite, I think," Gwaine said, drawing up along Merlin's other side with Henchman following at his shoulder.

"No one asked for your opinion, Gwaine," Will said in a bored monotone, sparing him a sidelong glance over Merlin's shoulder.

Gwaine actually ignored the complaint this time. "You think I could ride her tomorrow or something, Merls?"

Merlin shrugged. "Sure. Whatever." Then he paused. "How long are you actually thinking of staying here?"

Gwaine hummed thoughtfully, frowning skyward for a moment. He flashed a grin at Merlin a moment later that was all the answer Merlin needed. Merlin sighed, though he was hardly begrudging of Gwaine's presumption; Gwaine's company was just the sort that was impossible to hate. "Well, I guess if you're here all holidays it'll mean I don't have to drive you absolutely everywhere," he said.

"You shouldn't have to drive him anyway," Will objected on his behalf. He speared Gwaine with his own frown. "Some people should consider the schedules of others."

Gwaine nodded with false solemnity. "Yes, of course, Willy. Some people definitely should."

"You're a dumbass, Gwaine."

Merlin laughed between them as another argument started over his head. It was that or risk crying for the sheer persistence of their discord. Merlin didn't really mind, though. Not really. He actually found it sort of comforting to listen to their banter. Merlin was fond of the quiet tranquillity that usually gripped the Emerson estate but… yes, sometimes it did get a bit boring.

No one could ever say Gwaine in particular was boring person.

They dropped Aithusa off at the paddock and with a word from Merlin and her mother both she actually went readily enough, trotting to Pigeon's side with ears pricked and barely a backward glance over her shoulder towards Aisha.

"Well, that was easier than expected," Will said, swinging himself up onto Aisha's back. He gathered the reins that both he and Gwaine had outfitted Aisha and Henchman with.

Merlin nodded as he and Gwaine followed suit. "For now. Let's not count our chickens before they hatch, yeah?" Then, with a murmured word to Mordred, he lurched into a lunging leap that dissolved into a smooth canter in seconds. Within bare moments, Mordred was leading the way at a flying gallop across the property. Merlin tilted his head backwards into the wind to the sound of Gwaine's whooping call chasing after him.

---

"Snake!"

Henchman's startled whinny ripped through the air in tandem with his equally startled jump, skitter and rapid retreat. He nearly backed into an indignant Aisha, who nipped at his rump and only served to startle him once more.

Will jerked Aisha away from the bay with a sharp yank of his reins, urging her into sidestepping, while Gwaine struggled briefly to get Henchman to cease his prancing. "Whoa, calm down, mate. What's up?" He glanced towards Merlin as he clamped a hard hand down on Henchman's reins. "What's wrong?"

Merlin opened his mouth to reply but before he could Mordred interrupted him with a violent snort. "Stupid idiot. You'd think he'd recognise Kilgharrah by now." And in a step that almost seemed to directly spit Henchman's flightiness in the face, he continued up the path towards the large paddock, practically stepping over where Kilgharrah lay sprawled along the roadside.

Merlin pointed to the grass snake camouflaged amidst the dry grass. "Sorry, Gwaine. Henchman's never been good with snakes."

"Too many bad memories," Henchman said with a shudder, completely ignoring Gwaine's direction to follow in Merlin's wake in favour of skirting to the other side of the road.

"You don't have bad memories of snakes," Aisha commented with a snort, dipping her head and flicking her ears.

"I do too."

"No you don't. The stories Yasper tells you don't count as bad memories if you haven't lived them."

"I'm assuming from the fact that you're ignoring me that I'm missing some sort of conversation?" Gwaine said, drawing Merlin attention from where he saw Aisha take another lunging nip towards Henchman as he fell into step beside her. It was in scolding only, he knew, and Will clearly did too for he didn't pull her up for it. Or perhaps he'd simply transferred his disgruntlement for Gwaine onto Henchman.

Merlin nodded, urging Mordred to slow to a stop with a slight squeeze of his knees. "Nothing particularly profound, though."

"Oh, well that's comforting. Though the fact that horses can have profound conversations still weirds me out."

"The fact that you can have a profound conversation is weird to me," Will muttered, not quite quiet enough to be unheard.

"I left myself open for that one, didn't I?" Gwaine said with a sigh, glancing almost long-sufferingly towards Merlin.

"Yes, you did," Merlin agreed as he swung down from Mordred's back. He started back along the road a little ways to where Kilgharrah was making his slow, weaving way in their wake.

"Oh, hey, Merls, I don't think that's a good idea," Gwaine cautioned as Merlin passed him. "Even if you can talk to them, snakes can be dangerous."

"You are such an ignorama, Gwaine," Will said from behind Merlin. "One, it's a grass snake so it's not venomous. Two, Merlin's never been attacked by any animal in his entire life. And three, that's Kilgahrow or whatever his name is. Isn't it, Merlin?"

Merlin spared a glance over his shoulder towards where Will was turning Aisha in a slow circle to avoid Henchman's continued skittering. Really, Merlin should have a talk to the bay about snakes. Again. "Kilgharrah," he corrected.

"Yeah, that," Will nodded, before turning back to Gwaine a little smugly. "I know that. How is it that after nearly three years of knowing Merlin you don't?"

"Maybe I'm just concerned for a friend," Gwaine shot back. He actually frowned, as though for once Will's words had gotten to him.

"An unfounded concern. Of all the things to worry about."

"I'm allowed to worry."

"They are very noisy," Kilgharrah hissed, approaching Merlin and slowing until he was only incrementally moving to slide himself across the front of his boots.

Merlin tuned out Will and Gwaine's exchange at he bent down to offer an arm. It was a little disjointed at times, attempting to listen to humans and animals speaking at once. Or two different species of animal, even. Merlin didn't have any particular filter for words of animals in various species, but if there was one indicator of the linguistic differences it was that. His ears seemed to tingle just slightly, his head to hurting just a little, when he juggled as much for too long.

"Mordred actually said the same this morning," he replied.

"Oh." Kilgharrah flicked out a tongue. "Then I retract my words."

"That's petty, Kilgharrah," Merlin said, straightening once more as the snake lifted himself off the ground, wrapping around his wrist. "When will you get over this war you two are waging?"

"It is hardly a war, Merlin," Kilgharrah replied. "I simply object to any creature that deliberately seeks me out while I am basking in an attempt to crush me beneath their hoofs."

"That was two whole years ago," Merlin pointed out. "And in all fairness, you were stretched right across the very middle of the road."

Kilgharrah flicked his forked tongue into Merlin's face as he ascended his arm. "What better place to lie? Although I have taken your comment on the matter to heart. Did you not notice I lay alongside the road today?"

"I did notice that," Merlin said with a nod. "Any particular reason?"

"Yes. I've eaten my fill. Take me back to the dam."

Merlin rolled his eyes. He should have guessed as much; he could feel the solid distensions in Kilgharrah's gut, protruding along several lengths of his serpentine body. "And you can't take yourself?"

"It is far."

"So? You've got so much on your schedule, have you?"

"I have just eaten, Merlin. Undue movement is exceptionally taxing."

"As you've told me," Merlin said with a nod. Ten years he'd known Kilgharrah, and the snake had seemed old when he'd first met him. He seemed to feel it his duty to educate Merlin on the finer points of herpetology whether Merlin liked it or not. Or at least he used to; he'd apparently considered Merlin effectively graduated from such necessity some years ago. "How many rats did you eat?"

"It is rude to comment upon the diet of another, Merlin," Kilgharrah said mildly.

"Why would you even want to know that?" Gwaine called from behind him, drawing Merlin's attention over his shoulder once more. An expression of distaste twisted his features. "Have you ever seen a snake eat? It's horrifying."

"Have you ever seen yourself eat?" Will, expectedly, quipped back. "That's the true horror."

"I have exemplary table manners, I'll have you know," Gwaine replied, tilting his nose pompously into the air.

"Bullshit. You eat like a starving dog."

"You paint a picture with words, Will," Merlin said, dropping his chin with a smile.

Will flashed him a grin. "I do at that, don't I? Even better because you know it's accurate." Then, apparently decided to return the conversation back to where it had arisen, he gestured to where Kilgharrah was gradually making his way up around Merlin's neck. "What's he want?"

"To be dropped back to the dam," Merlin replied.

"No fucking way. Make him walk."

"Snakes can't walk," Gwaine pointed out with a smirk.

Will shot him a scathing glance. How he could switch between a smile and such a sincere glare so quickly always baffled Merlin. "I am aware of that, thank you. I just meant –"

"I'm pretty sure a snake that can walk is called a lizard."

"Gwaine," Will said flatly. "Shut the hell up." Then he turned back to Merlin. "Make him… slither."

"He just ate," Merlin explained.

"So?"

"So he'll be practically incapable of any particular movement until he'd digested a chunks of the rat he's stuffed himself with."

"Too much information," Gwaine said with a wrinkle of his nose. He actually urged Henchman back a step as though to escape Merlin's words, an inclination that Henchman, gaze still trained on Kilgharrah, apparently shared.

"You have a pathetically weak stomach, Gwaine," Will said.

"It's gross!"

"You're gross."

"Thank you, Willy, I've always wanted to be given such a unique and individualised nickname."

"It suits you."

"Anyway," Merlin interrupted, raising his voice slightly to be heard. Will and Gwaine were being particularly persistent with their antagonism today, something he attributed to their months apart, and Merlin knew he wouldn't get a word in unless he forced it. "I'm going to take him back. Either of you want to come?"

The expressions Will and Gwaine pulled were almost identical – something they would have been horrified to realise – and equally profound in their dissent. "We just rode for, like, two hours," Gwaine said, accompanied by Will's "If you think you'll get lost I'll come but…"

"Wow, you two are such loyal supportive friends." Merlin grinned as he walked back to Mordred's side. Mordred pinned Kilgharrah with a stare that very clearly said "I dare you to even try to bite me" that Kilgharrah pointedly ignored. "And Will, why the hell would I have trouble finding the dam? How long have I lived here for?"

"Your whole life?" Gwaine said, though it sounded more like a question. He glanced towards Will. "I thought he'd lived here his whole life."

"It was a rhetorical question, dumbass," Will sighed. As Merlin swung himself up onto Mordred's back once more, Will turned Aisha in a circle. "I'm going to take Aisha back for Aithusa. Don't drown in the pond, Merlin."

"Yeah, call if you need anything," Gwaine added, turning to follow behind Will.

"I lost my phone," Merlin reminded him.

Gwaine paused Henchman in step, frowning thoughtfully. "Oh yeah. Hm. That's a bitch." Then he brightened with a smile, twisting to flash it in Merlin's direction. "I'll go get you another one from town while you're at the dam."

"You don't have a car," Will called from ahead of him without even glancing behind him.

Gwaine turned and urged Henchman back into a slow trot to catch up with him. "It's okay, I'll just steal Merlin's."

"You're a bastard, Gwaine," Will replied.

"Hey, he wouldn't mind."

"Did you think to maybe ask…?"

They voices faded with distance as Will urged Aisha into a canter in what Merlin suspected would likely turn into a race back up to the large paddock. Gwaine wasn't sincerely competitive but he would never pass up a challenge of such a regard.

"They're very noisy," Mordred muttered for the second time that day.

"They are at that," Merlin agreed, shaking his head with a smile. He loved his friends, but when it came to their initial butting heads it was nearly impossible to get a word in edgewise. He leaned forwards slightly to meet Mordred's eye as the horse turned his head towards him. "Are you alright if we take a trip out to the dam and drop Kilgharrah off? I can go and grab someone else if you've had enough for the day."

Mordred snorted indignantly, turning sharply and setting off at a trot back the way they'd just come. "I'm not a feeble senior, Merlin, or a colt who spends their energy too quickly."

"I never said you were."

"And I'm hardly incompetent enough that I can't make a trip out to the dam. I'll make it faster than anyone else could, too." And as though attempting to prove as much, Mordred threw himself into a canter that grew rapidly into a gallop once more. Merlin locked his fingers into his mane, gripping with his legs and simply let him have it.

They did arrive in record time, rolling over the hills and descending that which led to the dam in less than twenty minutes. Mordred was fast, possibly the fastest of the horses on the estate, and he took pride in demonstrating his capabilities whenever possible. He seemed to be attempting to minimise his own panting as they pulled alongside the water, however, slowing back to a trot and then finally stopping before the wide expanse of still water.

Merlin slipped to the ground, automatically dragging the saddle blanket off after him and tapping Mordred's rump. "You can go for a swim if you want."

"I'm not tired," Mordred said, glancing towards Merlin with ears folding back slightly in the equivalent of a frown.

"I never said you were," Merlin replied. "But it's already getting hot. I thought you might appreciate it."

Mordred stared at him for a moment longer as though gauging the sincerity of Merlin's words, but didn't need telling twice. Shaking himself as though ridding his flanks of sweat, he took himself down to the waterside and crashed through the surface in an explosive eruption of spray.

"He is an objectionable child, is he not?" Kilgharrah hissed from Merlin's neck. He'd silent for the entire trip, the sleepiness of satiety weighing heavily upon him. He'd ever rested his head upon Merlin's shoulder as though in preparation for sleep.

"He is at that," Merlin agreed, watching as Mordred took himself deep enough that his feet kicked off the ground and he was forced to swim. "I don't know how but I seem to surround myself with loud, pretty objectionable people."

"Perhaps you have unfortunate magnetisation capacities?"

Merlin glanced down at him with a growing smile. "Hey, you remembered our conversation about magnets."

"Do not talk down to me, Merlin. I have no venom but by bite is still painful."

Laughing, Merlin kicked his boots off so that he could dip his toes into the water as he skirted the dam. It was blessedly cool; the heat wave that had recently struck Wales, temperatures suspended unwaveringly around thirty degrees, was taking its toll on not just the tiredly sagging grasses and flowers. Merlin was actually looking forwards to the cooler seasons for once himself.

"Where would you like me to tuck you away?" He asked Kilgharrah, wandering ankle-deep through the dam in the vague direction of the jetty.

"So long as my whereabouts are secreted, I have no particular preference," Kilgharrah murmured in reply, his head dropping back to Merlin's shoulder. "Except that it is near the sun. And not on a slope. And away from that nest of foolish lizards."

"So you do have a preference?"

"Merlin. I do bite."

Merlin grinned but obligingly set about finding a nest to tuck Kilgharrah into. He ended up tucking him beside a rocky outcrop next to the jetty, and Kilgharrah barely spared him a murmur of sparse gratitude before he curled in upon himself in knotted coils to digest in peace.

It was only when Merlin rose to his feet from where he'd been crouching that he caught a glimpse of the frog waiting at the far end of the jetty. He was fairly sure it was the same one from yesterday, though he could never be sure with creatures so small and all but strangers to him. Turning fully towards it, Merlin spared a glance for where Mordred still swum laps of the dam before folding his arms comfortably across his chest. "Hello again."

The frog croaked in what sounded more grumblingly indignant than a return greeting. He hopped a small jump towards Merlin before halting, head tipped distinctly in the direction Merlin had just secreted Kilgharrah. "That snake tried to eat me yesterday."

Merlin nodded. Definitely the same frog then. "He did."

"Yet you treat it like a friend?"

Merlin shrugged. "Everything has to eat something."

The frog took another small, awkward hop towards him. He seemed to be positioning himself so that Merlin stood between him and where Kilgharrah was likely already sleeping. "That's a double standard. How do you gain the trust of animals if you talk to and make nice with those that try to eat them?"

Merlin stared at the frog for a moment, a frown tightening his brow. He'd noticed it yesterday but it only struck him more forcefully this time that this frog was definitely a little odd. Not only was it entirely intelligible right off the bat, something that Merlin had rarely if ever experienced but accepted as an abnormality, but it seemed to lack the basic understanding of… of everything. Even of the fact that Merlin could talk to other animals, for he clearly hadn't instinctively known yesterday with his almost accusing question. That was a first time for Merlin, too. For some reason, animals just seemed to know he would understand them. All of them.

"You don't have any idea at all, do you?" He said curiously, strolling idly down the jetty.

"I object to that generalisation," the frog croaked.

"I meant about – about everything." He gestured to himself. "No one ever has an opinion about my 'double standards' or however you'd like to call them. It's not like I'm the one eating people."

The frog blinked up at him blankly. Merlin had always been able to read animals in a way most people seemed to consider didn't exist at all; he saw expressions where there apparently weren't any, read emotions that most psychologists of the word would profess didn't arise in anything but humans. But Merlin knew they did. He'd had as much validated but countless exchanges. In the frog he could read dubiousness when it said, "That's another double standard, there."

"How so?"

"You eat animals, I'm sure."

"No I don't."

The frog made a sound that in a human would have been a snort of disbelief. "Oh, so you've never had a steak? Never even eaten eggs?"

Merlin shook his head. "Not since I knew what they were. I haven't eaten meat in seventeen years and the only eggs I'll eat are Veggs."

"I beg your pardon?"

Merlin sighed, wiping a hand across his forehead. Trying to explain veganism to an animal that ate other animals, even if they were only insects, was next to impossible. He'd frequently tried with Kilgharrah simply because Kilgharrah often demanded a repeat explanation for what he considered 'idiotic and unnatural'. "Forget about it. You wouldn't understand."

The frog frowned. Not an actual frown, of course, but Merlin saw it as such. There was no wrinkling of the smooth, slick skin atop its head, no narrowing of its eyes, but the slight quirk of its mouth and the way it blinked bespoke as much. At least Merlin read it as such. "Don't talk down to me," it said.

Merlin smiled. Don't talk down to a creature that was smaller than the palm of his hand and quite literally sat at his feet? That might be a little hard, at least literally. "You sound just like Kilgharrah."

"Kilgharrah?"

"The snake that tried to eat you," Merlin said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to where Kilgharrah was hidden.

"The snake has a name?"

"Of course he does," Merlin replied, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you?"

"Yes, but I'm an actual person." The frog settled back on its haunches and seemed to draw itself up straighter. "Animals don't give themselves names – unless you gave it to him?"

"No, I didn't. Just about everyone comes up with their own unless, you know, someone gives them another one first." He frowned, settling his folded arms more tightly. "And speaking of double standards."

"What?" The frog grunted.

"You're an actual person but a snake isn't?"

"I told you, I'm a person."

Merlin stared at the frog for a moment. A long moment in which the frog stared back at him, the only sound Mordred's distant splashing as he finally extricated himself from the water on the other side of the dam. "You're still pushing this?" Merlin finally said.

The frog took a leap forwards until it landed half on Merlin's foot, a long-fingered, webbed hand slapping onto his toe. Was that supposed to be an expression of its indignation? "I am. I am a prince that was turned into a frog by –"

"We've been through this," Merlin interrupted, crouching down into a squat and, propping an elbow on his knee, he dropped his chin into his palm. "I've heard it all before. Was it a witch? A wizard? An evil spell?"

The frog slapped his toe again in what was definitely indignation this time. "It was. Listen, Emrys, you right pain in the –"

"It's Merlin," he corrected.

"What?"

"My name's Merlin. Merlin Emerson. I don't know where you got Emrys from."

The frog seemed to glare up at him for a moment. "From the… the witch. The one who changed me."

"Really?" Merlin raised his eyebrows in what he hoped was an expression lacking too much in insult. The frog was adamant, and apparently angered in its persistence for whatever reason. Maybe it had some suppressed rage for something? "This witch actually talked to you?" He thought it a little unbelievable considering he'd never heard of anyone but his father being able to speak to another animal before.

"Yes," the frog replied. "And she told me that to change back into a human again I would have to find you."

"Don't frog princes have to kiss a princess?" Merlin asked.

"Shut up, Emrys."

"Merlin."

"Merlin. Whatever. And yes, that's the idea. I have to kiss someone of equal standing to myself to change back."

Merlin bit back a grin. It was practically textbook procedure when it came to fairy tales. "Really?"

"Do not talk down to me."

"You're a frog who weighs something like twenty-five grams. That might be a little hard."

"Don't take speak so literally. You know what I'm talking about."

"You're very eloquent for a frog," Merlin pondered aloud, the thought bypassing his mind once more.

Another slap touched his toe. "That's because I'm a prince."

"So that would make you a boy, right?"

"Obviously –"

"What's you're name, sire?" Merlin asked politely. Or at least he attempted politeness, as he always did when speaking to animals for the first time. The 'sire' slipped out in mockery quite without his consent.

Clearly the frog heard it too, for he stared up at Merlin unblinkingly for a long moment in what looked very distinctly like a glare. When he spoke it was with clipped words, each utterance a sharp croak. "My name is Arthur."

Merlin stared down at the frog for a second. A moment later and he couldn't help himself but burst into laughter. He dropped his forehead into his hand, shaking his head as his shoulders shook in insuppressible mirth. "Jeez, I take back what I said yesterday. You really have done your research, haven't you?"

"I haven't –"

"Prince Arthur?" Merlin peered through his fingers at the thoroughly indignant frog before him. "As in Prince Arthur of Cardiff?"

"Yes," the frog all but spat.

"As in Prince Prat of the embarrassing headlines who only yesterday was caught making a scene outside The Potted Pig with a horde of rich lords and ladies who –"

"That wasn't me," the frog interrupted him with a loud and frustrated croak.

Merlin nodded fervently. "I'll bet it's not, because you'd have to be a very well travelled little frog to have made it all the way from Cardiff up here in twenty-four hours."

"It. Wasn't. Me," the frog ground out. Merlin couldn't help but snicker once more, even as he fought to bite back the urge. He'd never met such an entitled and aggressively demanding frog before. Maybe he was a real frog prince? Frog royalty? Did frogs even have a matriarchy? He didn't think so. "It's a clone. Or a doppleganger. Or… I don't know, perhaps Nimueh changed someone to look like me when she turned me into a toad."

"Frog," Merlin corrected.

"Same thing!"

"No they're not –"

"Shut up, Merlin," the frog overrode him, hitching his words in a strange drawl that Merlin had certainly never heard from an animal before. And certainly not a frog. Frogs were typically fairly good-natured. "I don't care about amphibians."

"Even though you are one?" Merlin cocked his head as the frog seemed to seethe at some perceived slight. He bit back the urge to grin once more – it really shouldn't be as fun teasing the hell out of a frog as it was – before drawing the conversation back on track. He propped his chin onto his hand once more. "This witch must be really something, huh?"

"I didn't even know that Nimueh could do magic."

"Of course not," Merlin nodded. "Magic doesn't exist."

"Says the one who talks to animals," the frog replied.

Merlin opened his mouth to reply but had to close it at that. Point taken. He'd never really considered his ability to talk to and be understood by animals magic before but… he supposed to some people it might appear as such. It wasn't; Merlin didn't know what it was but for a genetic gift he'd gotten from his father, but it wasn't magic. It wasn't.

"You're supposed to help me," the frog said, drawing Merlin's attention down to it once more. "That's what Nimueh said. She didn't tell me how, but she said that Emrys would be the one to help me." He made a sound that could almost be construed as a sigh. "No one else can understand me so you have to be who she was talking about."

Merlin nodded, biting back another grin. "Yes, well, most people can't talk to animals, or so I've heard."

"I'm not an –" The frog cut himself off and if he'd had eyebrows Merlin knew they would have been frowning in an infuriated scowl. "Look, you're supposed to help me, not be a complete fucking bastard about the situation."

Merlin actually started at that and couldn't withhold an incredulous burst of laughter. He'd never heard an animal swear so vehemently before. This frog was a new experience entirely. Not to mention that being called a 'fucking bastard' by a frog was one of the most hilarious things he'd ever experienced.

Shaking his head, Merlin had to cover his mouth with a hand to smother his giggles. The frog didn't appear impressed in the slightest. "Um," he attempted through his laughter. "Why, um… why should I have to help you? That's very entitled of you, you know. I could almost believe you're royalty for that."

The frog seemed to struggle to speak at Merlin's words. He shifted on his haunches, foot fidgeting on Merlin's toes. When he spoke again it was definitely begrudging. "Because I need your help. I…" Another pause, another very apparent struggle. "Please. Help me."

Merlin pressed his hand over his lips even more tightly at the evident struggle the frog had with such an attempt at cordiality. It only just managed to smother his urge to laugh. Merlin had to take a deep breath to compose himself before replying. "There. Now was that so hard, sire?"

The frog made a vexed croaking sound and took a deliberate shuffle backwards so that he was no longer tapping on Merlin's toe. "Look, asking for help isn't exactly my strong suit."

"I might have guessed that."

"I'd much rather just pay you for it somehow. When I'm human again."

"Right," Merlin nodded, biting back another smile. God, it was just so ridiculously amusing. "When you're Prince Arthur again."

The frog grumbled something that sounded like "still don't believe me" but it seemed more as though he was speaking to himself than to Merlin. Then he turned and with a strange, awkward flap of a hand gestured towards the other end of the jetty. "I've a token of appreciation, anyway."

"What?" Merlin said, lifting his gaze to where the frog had pointed.

"Don't make me say it again. This is humiliating enough as it is."

Merlin rose to standing, frowning curiously as he made his way along the jetty. Incredulity raised his eyebrows when he stopped at the end, reaching down to pick up the filthy, previously unnoticed and remarkably well-camouflaged phone that rested upon the final plank of the jetty. He blinked down at it blankly for a moment turning it over in his hands before glancing towards the frog. He'd followed Merlin at a distance and now squatted several steps away.

As Merlin affixed him with his attention, he shifted awkwardly. "Consider it a token of my good will."

"You went and got my phone out of the pond for me?" Merlin said redundantly.

With an awkward shuffle, the frog hopped another step closer. "I know how much I live with my own phone –"

"The fact that you even know what a phone is is commendable," Merlin said with a widening smile, shaking his head in continued stupefaction.

"Of course I know –"

"Are you sure you haven't spoken to another human before?"

"I'm not a fucking frog!"

Merlin laughed once more as he turned his attention back to his phone. It had accumulated enough dirt for it's brief submersion at the bottom of the lake to almost completely obscure the gaudy gold cover. In Merlin's opinion it was actually an improvement. But still… "This isn't all that much of a payment," he said, flicking phone against his palm in an attempt to rid it of the muck. He could swear he heard sloshing inside of it. "It's completely dead."

The frog stamped his foot in what Merlin was coming to suspect was a characteristic behaviour of indignation. "That's no way to respond to a –"

"But the gesture is very appreciated," Merlin hastened to add. He flapped the phone once more, flicking some of the mud from it. "I mean, it's useless now, but that's okay. It's the thought that counts and –"

The phone slipped in Merlin's fingers. Quite by accident, and ignoring his fumbling attempt to grab it once more, it clattered onto the jetty. Then it slipped through, hitting the flat surface of the pond with a hollow plop!

Merlin stared. He stared through the cracks in the jetty at the ripples seeping from the point of submersion. Then, bypassing his control entirely, he dissolved into laughter once more. Oh, God, he'd done it again. It was just – it was so –

"You pillock, you dropped it again!" The frog all but cried, and when Merlin glanced towards him, seeing his little foot stamp and the indignation rising thickly from him, his amusement redoubled.

The frog was not impressed in the slightest. He uttered a loud croak reminiscent of a burp. "After I did all that for you, you just drop it? Do you have any idea how hard it is for a frog to pick up a phone? To swim with one? Do you?"

Merlin snorted as he struggled to reply. "I – I'm sorry, I –"

"After my struggle, my attempt to meet you halfway with my good intentions."

"Really, it was – it was an accident, I'm just really clumsy, I –"

"Yeah, I noticed that." Another stamp of the frog's foot sent Merlin into a fit of giggles once more. "Stop laughing."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop laughing –"

"What are you laughing at, Merlin?"

Merlin half turned towards where Mordred was trotting around the dam, ears pricked curiously as he approached the jetty. "It's nothing, just –"

"Just you acting like an utterly incompetent idiot," the frog interrupted loudly. For such a small creature, he certainly had a very loud voice.

Merlin nodded obligingly. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Is Kilgharrah asleep?" Mordred asked, ignoring the frog's croaking. "Are we going home now?"

Stifling the last of his merriment, Merlin turned towards the end of the jetty once more. He shouldn't have dropped the phone. It hadn't been intentional but he shouldn't have done it anyway. The frog was a right little shit, rude to boat, but he had obviously tried. Tried, even if it was begrudgingly and a little confusing as to why he'd bothered. Taking himself back along the jetty, Merlin paused at the frog's side. "I'm going home now. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude and it really was an accident. I appreciate the thought, really, but –"

"Take me with you," the frog interrupted sharply once more. He jumped towards Merlin and dropped a hand onto his foot once more. "You have to take me with you. Fix me."

"Listen, Froggy –"

"It's Arthur."

"Yeah, okay," Merlin said slowly, biting back his mirth. "Arthur. This is all really funny and everything, but I can't change you into a human. It doesn't work like that. Magic doesn't exist."

"It does exist," the frog said emphatically. There was an edge to his tone, something that bordered on desperate. It dampened Merlin's smile instantly. "It does, and I need help. You have to – you have to help me." He paused, seemed to struggle for a moment, then, "Please."

Merlin didn't know what it was exactly. Maybe it was the desperation in the frog's voice. Maybe it was his unyielding persistence, or maybe it was the fact that, even though he barely knew him, Merlin felt that for some reason the frog had rarely if ever used the word 'please' before.

Merlin couldn't do anything. God, what the hell was he supposed to do? Find a princess or something to kiss the frog prince and prove that no, he wasn't human, such things didn't happen and the frog needed to grow out of his delusion? But even knowing that, Merlin couldn't help himself. He felt like he had to at least do something.

"Merlin? Are we going?" Mordred called from where he'd drawn to a halt at the end of the jetty, his hoof just tapping on the base plank.

Merlin spared him a glance before glancing down towards the frog who hadn't shifted his upward gaze from him for an instant. He really was very small, speckled and of a plain tan colouration, and absolutely nothing to comment on. But something in his black-gold eyes was pleading, imploring. Certainly a little desperate.

Sighing, Merlin reached down, leaned over the edge of the jetty to dip his hand into the water to dampen his fingers before without ceremony he scooped the frog into his palm. The self-proclaimed Arthur gave a startled, indignant squawk that Merlin ignored as he stared back towards Mordred. "We've got another passenger for the return journey," he said.

"Oh, joy." Mordred blew his lips in exasperation. "Are you collecting frogs now?"

Merlin only smiled. He ignored Mordred's ensuing ridicule of frogs in general as he wandered back to where he'd dropped the saddle blanket, ignored too the grumbles of the frog about how he "would not tolerate manhandling again". He didn't say another word to either of them when he was back astride Mordred and heading towards home at a slow trot.

Meeting new animals wasn't particularly unusual. Meeting objectionable or deluded animals wasn't really either. But the frog who muttered and seethed in his hand the entire trip back to the estate – he was a little bit different. Just a little.