The knights stumbled back into Camelot looking worse for wear on the dawning of the next day, Arthur with his helmet firmly planted over his head, Lancelot looking shifty under a hooded cloak he lifted from some poor peasant, Gwaine still unconsciously flinging his head around despite the fact his hair had burnt off again. Leon was still bald as ever and Elyan had a sore spot where Lancelot's torch had hit him. Merlin felt his face swelling from the torch he took to the face, courtesy of Arthur. Percival was the only one left unscathed – save for his run-in with the tree – but that hadn't so much as bruised him.

The bedraggled men headed into the courtyard, their mission somewhat of a failure as none of them got to sacrifice themselves.

"Don't say a word," Arthur said under his breath when it looked as though Gwen and Gaius were about to press them with questions on the state of the knight's hairless countenances.

Merlin, a giant grin plastered across his face, sauntered in with the rest of them, his own hair intact. Instantly, he was engulfed by the entire female population of Camelot.

And it was then that Gwaine came to the depressing and irksome conclusion that the only reason women went for the knights and the prince was because of their luscious locks. While Merlin was peppered with kisses and caresses of affection, Gwaine led the knights into the tavern to drown their sorrows.


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