"A feast?"

"Yes."

"You want me to organise an entire Yuletide feast?"

Gwen's eyes were wide with disbelief. Merlin had been too busy with his duties to go find her straightaway, but he bumped into her as he was on his way to the knights' training ground. Arthur was spending the morning there, and Merlin had already dressed him in his armour. He'd nipped back to the prince's room to pick up some weapons that needed polishing, so he could clean them until Arthur needed him. When he saw Gwen drawing water from the well, he took a quick diversion on his journey to tell her of his plan.

"You said you needed something to do," Merlin reminded the reluctant girl.

"Yes, something small. Like knitting Gaius a pair of socks, making a few cakes – not preparing a feast! Besides, I thought you had enough spare time. You were down the tavern last night."

"How do you know that?"

"Elyan told me. He tells me everything."

Merlin tried his secret weapon for persuading Gwen into something: Arthur.

"Don't you think it'd be good for Arthur? He's overworked, he needs to relax. And I'll do the decorations. I'll get a team of us to work on it."

Gwen sighed, relenting.

"I'll do it," she said, putting her hands on her hips, "But Merlin, you're going to help me, or I'll take that neckerchief and strangle you with it."

Merlin smiled and hugged her.

"Thankyou, Gwen. I won't let you down."

"Hmm."

Gwen set her lips in a straight line, like Merlin's mother had used to when she was about to tell him off.

"I guess I should start making arrangements, then," she said, before going on her way.

Merlin walked to the training ground with a spring in his step. Arthur was there when he arrived, busy with the newest recruits. Elyan, Lancelot, Percival and Gwaine stood on the field, weapons drawn, striking dummy targets. The comical little wooden men were hacked about by the soldiers with as much ferocity as if they were real enemies. Merlin sat on a bench opposite and set to work with the dirty weapons, absently watching the knights. Arthur walked to each one, watching their skills and giving them advice. Elyan was a good round fighter, confident in his abilities. Lancelot was refined in his accuracy, but with a hard edge learnt from his time spent fighting for a wager. Percival was strong, relying on brute force and big, heavy blows. And Gwaine was, well, Gwaine. He was unconventional, a rough fighter, untrained, ungraceful.

Merlin keenly watched his concentration, his complete focus on the target. And his hair. It whipped about wildly as Gwaine threw himself into the combat. Merlin loved how he still looked rugged and raw in his knight's armour, bearing the crest of Camelot. Whoa, steady on, Merlin. The memories of last night flooded back to him. Relations of that kind between men were not spoken about. It went against Uther's command, but Merlin knew that in reality it seldom came to a matter of law, and even then little was done about it. In his time at Camelot, only one case of that nature had cropped up, and it had been dismissed almost instantly. Gaius had told him that it was the way in Uther's kingdom; so long as discretion was kept to a maximum, it caused few problems. So then maybe it wouldn't be so hard if he and Gwaine… Uther always had other things to deal with. Like magic. Merlin sighed as he watched Gwaine, idly cleaning Arthur's sword.

"Er, Merlin?"

Merlin nearly dropped the sword in surprise, which would have been painful, seeing as he was sitting with his legs apart. It was only then that he realised what he'd been doing. Polishing a sword in a suggestive position, looking intently at Gwaine. It must have looked like he was… doing something else. Merlin steadied himself before he fell off the bench and impaled himself on the sword. Not a good way to go. He looked up to see who had disturbed him.

"Oh. Sir Leon."

The knight nodded in greeting, a little embarrassed.

"Good morning. I hope you are having a, er, pleasing day."

"Very pleasing, thankyou," Merlin blurted, before realising how that sounded.

What will sensible Sir Leon think?

"I didn't know you were here," Merlin confessed.

"Oh. I was watching El– the new knights. I wanted to see how their training's getting on."

Merlin struggled to find something to say as he looked up at the knight. Then he blinked and looked at him some more.

"What happened to your hair?"

Leon's long locks were gone, replaced with shorn hair that lay close to his head. It actually suited him. He'd looked a bit middle-aged when it was longer.

"Someone threw a bowl of – well, I don't know what – out of their window yesterday, and it hit me on the head."

Oh dear.

"It must have been some sort of glue," Leon went on, annoyed, "Because whatever I tried, it wouldn't come out of my hair. I wore a hat all of yesterday. Last night I had to cut it all off."

Merlin tried to look as innocent as possible as he listened to the story. Gaius' porridge certainly had its applications. He was glad he hadn't eaten any.

"When I found out who attacked me," said the knight menacingly, "I will make him pay."

Merlin's face was crossed with fear and guilt but Leon seemed not to notice.

"Assaulting a knight," Merlin said, "I don't believe it. Some people have no respect."

"Hey! Merlin!"

It was Gwaine, bounding over the field towards him. Arthur had called an end to the day's training and the knights were now sheathing their weapons and wandering off the training ground, to their next duty. Arthur was still talking to Elyan, giving him some advice, so Merlin didn't have to go to him. The wooden dummies stood battered on the field. Merlin noticed that Sir Percival's was now missing an arm. Crikey. Gwaine clapped Merlin on the shoulder when he reached him.

"I saw you watching me from the sidelines here," he said, bending down to speak to Merlin in a low tone, "I hope I made an impression."

Merlin felt his stomach knot as Gwaine spoke, and a thought suddenly came to him. Had Gwaine been showing off to impress him? And – oh, no – had he seen what Merlin had been doing with Arthur's sword?

Gwaine stood up to talk to Leon, flicking his hair as he did so. Hang on, he couldn't know that Merlin really liked that. Could he?

"Sir Leon," Gwaine greeted him, smiling.

"Sir Gwaine."

Gwaine frowned as he looked at the knight.

"What happened to your hair? Did you actually take my advice?"

"Well –"

"Ah, Leon!" Gwaine breezed, "I know I might have passed comment, but you know I was only joking, right? And if I mentioned it after that I was probably drunk. Still, I quite like your hair like this, don't you, Merlin?"

Merlin nodded in agreement.

"I guess you'll have me cut mine too now, eh?" Gwaine asked Leon.

"No!" Merlin cried, a little too enthusiastically.

The others turned to him, their expressions quizzical. Merlin bit his lip. Now he was going to have to come up for a reason to explain his passion for this issue.

"Er…" he began, looking down and picking at the hem of his sleeve, "I just think it looks fine as it is, is all."

Gwaine looked quietly satisfied. Quick, find something to say.

"Oh," Merlin said, thrilled that he had a topic of conversation, "You know what you were saying the other night about Yuletide?"

"Not really," Gwaine admitted.

"You were pretty fixed in your views then," Leon said pointedly.

"We didn't think there was even going to be a Yuletide this year," Merlin reminded them, "Not after everything that's happened. But I thought it'd be a real shame not to celebrate. So, I've spoken to Arthur about it, and he's agreed to host a feast."

Gwaine rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

"Ale and dancing," he said gleefully, "I can't wait."

"Well," Merlin said hesitantly, "There is one condition. Gwen's organising the feast, and I promised her I'd sort out the decorations. But I can't do all that on my own. So I was thinking… You and some of the other knights… You could help me with it?"

"Certainly," said an eager Sir Leon.

Gwaine looked somewhat disappointed.

"Merlin, we're knights," he said pleadingly, "We're meant to be defending Camelot, not making silly little paper chains. It's women's work."

"I like doing it!" Leon protested.

"Exactly."

Merlin tugged at Gwaine's sleeve.

"Gwaine, please," he said beseechingly, "I want this Yuletide to be wonderful for everyone in Camelot. The people, Arthur… you. Won't you help a friend?"

Gwaine heaved a heavy sigh.

"Alright. But I'm only doing this because it's you who's asking me."

"Thankyou."

Leon was brimming with ideas.

"There's so much to do," he said eagerly, "Wreaths, garlands, streamers, bouquets… I have so many ideas."

"Then, Sir Leon," Merlin said, his catching enthusiasm mixed with his guilt about Leon's shaven hair, "I appoint you as chief decorator."

The knight was like a busy mother managing a household, breathlessly planning and fussing.

"I'll get as many of the knights as I can to help. I've saved most of their lives at some point, so I'll tell them I'll take this as repayment. Wow, maybe this really is a great idea!"

Elyan joined them then.

"What's a good idea?"

"Come on," Leon said eagerly, taking him by the arm, "I'll tell you all about it."

Leon trundled off, impatient to make further plans, Elyan in tow.

Gwaine watched him go.

"He really is a mother hen."

"I think it's sweet."

Gwaine smiled, then noticed the purple bruise on Merlin's head.

"Hey, how'd you do that to yourself?"

Merlin wanted to tell him a better story than the truth, but he couldn't think of one fast enough and he'd always been a rubbish liar anyway.

"I, er, fell over a chair."

"You idiot."

"I didn't see it!"

"Yeah, it just ran straight at you."

Merlin pouted and Gwaine stopped his teasing.

"Aww, I'm sorry Merlin. Want me to kiss it better?"

Yes. Hey, what? What are you thinking, Merlin?

"No, I'm fine," he said, trying to keep his voice even.

"Too late," said Gwaine, quickly putting a hand round the back of Merlin's head and kissing him on the forehead.

Merlin felt his cheeks burn.

"Gwaine!" he hissed, "Don't! People will get the wrong idea."

"Mmm. Like you and that sword?"

Oh Lord, you saw that. Merlin felt his heart sink to his knees in sheer mortification. Gwaine raised his eyebrows, looking at him expectantly.

"Er… I… that wasn't… uh…"

"That's alright," Gwaine said, leaning closer to the manservant, "It was kind of hot."

Merlin's expression was that of utter disbelief. He couldn't believe this was even happening. Gwaine was talking dirty with him. Again. It was the second time in the space of a day. Admittedly he was very drunk the first time, but now he was stone cold sober and still that way inclined.

"I think I felt a little jealous," Gwaine said into Merlin's ear.

What? Oh. Oh. Merlin hadn't known what to do should anything… occur, but now he was starting to learn a few things. Why did he have to have such a vivid imagination, dammit? Gwaine wasn't moving away from his position behind him. What the Hell am I going to do?

"Merlin! Stop slacking off!" Arthur yelled.

Merlin had never been more glad to be shouted at. He hastily grabbed Arthur's now partially clean armour and ran towards him, mumbling a vague farewell to Gwaine.

"What took you so long?" Arthur moaned as Merlin stumbled over.

"I was… picking up… I…" Merlin panted, unable to articulate.

"You were with Gwaine."

"Uh… yeah."

Arthur seemed to be trying to determine whether Merlin's flustered expression was down to his (pathetic) running over to him, or something Gwaine had said.

"What were you two talking about?"

"Er… Yuletide. Yes, that's it. Gwen agreed to do it."

Good save. As Gwaine sloped off, Merlin helped Arthur off with his armour. He chattered on about his Yuletide plans so much that he almost forgot Gwaine's knowing smile.

"Merlin, what did I specifically tell you not to do?"

"Er… I think you said something about me not letting foolish young men roam around your workshop?"

"Yes. So why are there about thirty of them here?"

Merlin looked at the sea of men around him, flooding Gaius' small workshop. Maybe he should have asked for his permission before letting them all in. Then again, maybe not – the old man would have refused.

"We're the YFDC." someone piped up.

It was Sir Leon, his arms full of bright red ribbons. Elyan sat next to him, similarly laden with the bright strips of fabric.

"The what?" Gaius asked, his face stern.

One of his eyebrows shot up so high on his face that it seemed to have a mind of its own.

"The Yuletide Feast Decoration Committee. We're making the decorations for the Yuletide feast," Leon said eagerly.

"The what?"

"The Yuletide Feast. You know, the one Merlin's put us all up to."

"He what?"

Sir Leon frowned.

"You did tell Gaius about this, didn't you, Merlin?"

The whole room turned to look at the manservant.

"It might have… slipped my mind," he said, wincing.

It was bad enough to have everyone stare at him, but it was made worse by the fact that Gwaine had retaliated for Merlin dragging him into decoration-making by replacing his neckerchief with one of the festive ribbons. It had been funny at the time, but now Merlin felt like an idiot, as well as looking like one. And he didn't know if Gwaine was going to give that neckerchief back. He was wearing it now, and seemed to be getting quite attached to it. Stop thinking about Gwaine.

"Merlin," Gaius frowned severely, "Am I ever to have the use of my own home?"

"It's just until Yuletide. It's only a fortnight away."

"A fortnight?" Gaius repeated.

"That's two weeks," Leon said helpfully.

"Yes, I know what a fortnight is!" Gaius snapped, glaring at his pupil.

Merlin wouldn't have been surprised if his mentor had used his magic to strike him down. He was afraid of being turned into an ugly toad, trapped until someone kissed him. They'd probably be disappointed once they did – who'd choose a servant over a handsome prince? Don't even think it, Merlin.

"We just want a nice Yuletide for everyone in Camelot," Gwaine said reasonably.

The white-haired man shot him a sharp glare.

"Don't you speak to me. I've already had enough of you today. And you look ridiculous."

Merlin had retaliated for Gwaine's retaliation by tying several of the ribbons into his hair. He'd rather enjoyed running his fingers through his long mane. You're thinking about Gwaine again.

"We only wanted to help Arthur out," Merlin said, rather pathetically.

"You seem very eager to give away things that are not yours to give," Gaius huffed.

"Please, Gaius?"

The physician's eyes pierced Merlin like arrows.

"Just until the Yuletide feast. After that, I want them all gone."

Gaius fixed his eyes onto Lancelot and Gwaine.

"Including you," he added, before sweeping out of the room.

Leon gave Merlin a look.

"You didn't tell him? That is very irresponsible, Merlin."

"Aah, lay off him," said Gwaine, "Go make some more garlands or something."

Leon looked annoyed, but Elyan laid a calming hand on his shoulder and he went back to fussily organising. The YFDC resumed making decorations, filling the room with an indistinct murmur.

Lancelot leaned over from his seat behind Merlin and Gwaine.

"Gaius isn't having the best day," he said, grimacing.

"I'm sorry," said Merlin, "Don't feel like you have to leave because of him."

Merlin knew that was exactly how the knights must feel, and he didn't blame them. The court physician was a force to be reckoned with.

"I found somewhere," said Lancelot, "I made enquiries today, like I said I would. There's a flat in the Middle Town. It's perfect. Good size, on a quiet street, near to the training grounds. But I can't afford it on my own, so…"

Not Gwaine. Despite what Gaius said, Merlin didn't want his friends to go. Yes, the old man was at his wit's end, and yes, the Middle Town wasn't far away, but still…

"What, we get it together?" Gwaine asked.

Lancelot pulled a face.

"Us? Share a flat? Living here with you is bad enough as it is. I couldn't cope with it all the time!"

"I'm not so bad!" Gwaine protested.

Lancelot gave him a look.

"No. You are not bad to live with at all," he said, his voice stilted and dripping with sarcasm.

"What do you suggest instead, then?" Merlin asked, before the two initiated a fight.

He knew they only fought in play, and it was quite funny to watch, but last time Gwaine had fallen into one of Gaius' cabinets and smashed another vial of foot balm. It seemed the people of Camelot were never to have their verrucas healed.

"I'll get the flat with Percival," said Lancelot.

It made sense; Percival had come to Camelot with Lancelot, and knew him better than the other knights. Percival did get on well with Elyan though – that was why he was staying at his forge. His brute strength seemed to come in handy there. Merlin looked across the room at the knight. The intricacy of tying ribbons together was completely lost on him, and had resulted in his creating a mangled heap of fabric. Seeing the textile tragedy, Sir Leon had quickly removed him from that task and instructed him instead to cut up the few tangled boughs of holly he'd gathered from the forest earlier into smaller parts that could be put in displays around the castle. It seemed Percival was better at hacking things to pieces than making something pretty.

"I haven't sorted it all out yet," said Lancelot, "But we should be able to move in by the end of the week."

"Thankyou," said Merlin gratefully.

"You'd better get your act together," Lancelot said to Gwaine.

"Yeah. Merlin's getting bored of me already."

"I'm not!" Merlin protested, "You know I never could."

Gwaine smiled.

"I know."

He tugged at the ribbon around Merlin's neck, untying it neatly.

"I'll be needing that," he said, threading it into his almost-finished garland as a final touch.

The colourful decoration was a messy explosion of ribbon, but it would look very festive when it was hung up.

"There you go," said Gwaine, holding it up.

Merlin tilted his head to one side.

"It's a bit… disordered."

Gwaine punched him on the shoulder, leading Merlin to wonder why physical pain seemed to be the only way that males could express their affection for one another. Sometimes he just wanted a hug.