Thanks for all the reviews, you lovely people! I appreciate it so much!

Happy readings,

Pip

- Market –

"Um, the—apples, please—twelve would be fine. Thank-you." I handed the merchant a few coppers, and balanced my basket on the edge of the booth counter while the merchant smiled, commented about the weather, and filled my basket with fresh autumn-colored apples. Their sweet perfume lingered around this man's fresh fruit cart, and drew many a customer to it.

"Any special occasion? That's a lot of apples for so small a lady," quipped the merchant, adding the last and patting the top of the basket.

"I'm going to try and make a pie, for the court physician," I smiled. "It's been a few weeks now since he's had to stitch up my head, and I've yet to repay his kindness."

"Aren't you just the sweetest patient he's ever had," chuckled the merchant, tipping his threadbare cap and focusing on another approaching customer.

I'm not sweet, I thought as I turned away, I'm horrid.

- The Rising Sun kitchen –

"No!" I screamed, throwing the pan down to the floor. It fell down very anticlimactically with a loud clunk, the pie completely solid inside, burnt to a crisp apple-flavored rock. "No! May all the curses be upon you!"

I kicked the pan, and slumped down beside it, dejected. "May every evil be upon you and your father's house. I hope a sorcerer gets you. I bet all the apples had worms. And evil. And…" I trailed off, looking around to make sure no one had heard. I couldn't afford being mistaken for a witch or some other stupidity.

"…And I hope you die in apple-pie agony," I whispered venomously, finally jumping to my feet, dumping the bulbous charred creature into the alley through the back entrance, and slumped back to my regular work.

- The Palace Courtyard-

There was a mild tone of worry in the air, and I wondered why—in the middle of the busy day—many people working steadily in the lower town were dropping their task and trotting towards the palace doors, speaking in whispers and gossip.

My master and bar owner, Evoric, had finally succumbed to curiosity and bade me to follow and find out what had happened. The alarm bells had not been rung, but clearly word had spread about something.

"Excuse me, Sir, what is going on?" I asked, various crowd members pushing past me towards the palace doors.

Sir Leon, a strikingly tall man, looked at me curiously, as if he had recognized me from living in the palace before. He checked about for eavesdroppers, and leaned down towards me, whispering; "The King has collapsed—best not worry anyone just yet. I don't suppose—could you help me?"

"Help you?" I repeated. "Certainly—yes! What shall I do?"

"We've our hands full, here, would you mind finding the physician's assistant? Gaius's boy—know him?"

"Yes," I said briskly, "He's missing?"

"He's back in the physician's chambers—Gaius is with the King."

"I'll fetch him straight away." I bowed.

"Thank-you, madam," Sir Leon said with the upmost respect. His attention immediately snapped to the doors, where townsfolk were attempting to talk their way past the door guards. "Excuse me, excuse me," he began to go up the stairs, "Ladies and gentlemen—please—it's a mere case of exhaustion, no need to overreact. Continue about your business, the King is just fine. Do not be alarmed."

"Exhaustion? Fallin' over in the middle of a court address?" said one woman. "Sounds like 'is heart gave out, it did!"

"Nay, twasn't a court address, in the middle of a great feast—choked on some bones," said an older man.

"Nonsense!" said another.

I tuned them out, running for the other side of the courtyard. My shoes slapped the cobblestones in a peculiar rhythm as I entered the overhang, ducking up the curved stairs that disappeared within the interior of the palace. I followed the unnecessary, charming little sign pointing upwards and labeled Court Physician.

-The Physician's Chambers –

"Hello?" I called, opening the door. "Merlin?"

Gaius's chambers were lit by sunlight, glinting off every bottle and root across tables and shelves, the bright glass a contrast to every dark-paged book that lay in hazardous messes over the floor and tables.

"Merlin?" I said louder, walking slowly in and shutting the door behind me.

The door at the far end of the room suddenly opened, and Merlin came trumping down three steps into the main room. His face was surprised. "Wren!" he greeted, approaching as he adjusted a worn satchel around his shoulder. "What can I do for you?"

"Gaius needs you," I said. "The King has collapsed—they're in his bed chambers." I turned and led Merlin out of the room, and with a startled gasp, he followed quickly.

- the Hall -

"Is that all you know?" he asked, face serious.

"It is. I just happened to be nearby, so Sir Leon sent me to fetch you."

"Thank-you," he said, a little breathless. "It was good of you to help. Really."

"Um," I said, squinting, recalling Gwaine's words. "You're welcome…"

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Merlin chuckled tightly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"Accepting a compliment. You'll be better at it someday," teased Merlin.

I didn't know what to say. Naturally I chose to do a most socially unacceptable thing, and let out a very forced, small laugh at his teasing. When it failed to fool him, I bit my lip and fell into silence again.

"It's been awhile," Merlin ventured again. "You disappeared that morning… I looked for you everywhere."

"I found work," I said shortly, ashamed to admit to him I was working in the tavern.

"That's great!" Merlin exclaimed loudly, smiling. "I knew you would!"

I said nothing. My mind struggled to reply, but I felt so awkward, there was still nothing.

"Maybe now we can be…" Merlin's thought faded, and he didn't finish his sentence.

"Maybe not," I said quickly, knowing he was going to suggest a friendship. "It's even less possible than before. I don't know if your Prince would appreciate you associating with the likes of me. As his manservant, you do have a bit of a reputation to uphold."

"And you don't? What kind of work did you find, exactly?"

I sighed. Might as well. "…Barmaid…"

"So you're the one Gwaine was going on about!" Merlin cried, another laugh escaping his lips. "I should have guessed! He thought you were quite charming, you know. He thinks you're doing well."

"He exaggerates."

"I think, personally," Merlin said quietly, "If a knight of Camelot can be friends with a barmaid, a lowly manservant can be friends with her, too."

"Oh," I winced.

"Are you really so concerned about our statuses?"

"No, no, I'm not. It's not that," Conversational suicide. "It's you."

"Me? What do you mean?"

"Don't make me explain this, Merlin, please. There are other things to worry about. In fact—you should go on to the King's chambers alone, I don't even know why I'm still walking this direction. I should go back to the tavern."

"Why don't you answer my question?"

"Merlin—there are a lot of things…" I began, then backtracked, and then began again. All or nothing. This idiotic game has gone on long enough. "Merlin—I have a hard time liking you. A very hard time. I can hardly speak to you without feeling angry. And I'm sorry. I think I really mean that."

"But why? Have I done something to offend you?"

"It makes my stomach ill to see you floating on this prosperous cloud—friends in both the highest and lowest places. Living in the palace. Eating food on a regular basis. Best friends with the Prince himself. It's like nothing—nothing—has been denied you, while, I've been granted nothing—till this job. I can try my hardest and possibly succeed in making a good man drunk. Gwaine tells me you've saved lives—that you're a hero."

"But…"

"Furthermore, you're not that good of a servant," I said hotly, too forward to stop now. "But you hold the admiration of everyone I know, and even those I don't know. Can you do nothing wrong? I'm sure you're just as human as the rest of us."

"I do things wrong all the time," Merlin said, a little shyly.

"Yet you receive applause," I spun my story wider, becoming carried away. "It just seems that anything I've ever done is equal to that of what you've accomplished, as a servant—but I was scoffed at, beaten to a point. Looked down upon. The comparison disgusts me."

"So now, I disgust you," Merlin inferred, sighing.

"No," I said quickly, "I mean—yes. I mean no. I don't know what I mean."

"Life handed you a platter of stale bread and poison water, but you look at mine, and it looks like steak and clove-stuffed potatoes," Merlin gave me a half-smile, with a pained, sorrowful look about his face. I hadn't even realized we had stopped walking—but we had, and I stared down at the floor, granting hesitant glances upwards, and Merlin looked at me with something akin to pity.

"Sure, sure, metaphorically speaking," I shrugged, unable to hold eye-contact for long, ashamed of myself for not doing better with Gwaine's advice. In fact, I had gone much too far. Merlin could ask the Prince to have me flogged if he wanted to.

"Let me tell you something, Wren," Merlin said softly, "My platter is as poor as yours, if not worse, sometimes it's better, but sometimes it is not. We are not what we are given, only what we choose to do with it. Working at a tavern doesn't make you less of a person—just as being a rubbish servant in high places makes me somehow better or lesser. I don't look at you and see 'barmaid'. I look at you and see someone talented, but I think you hold back because you don't want to be hurt. If you took more than a second look at me, you might see that I'm complicated person who has to work really—really—hard for anything to go well. Most of the time it doesn't, but I still try. In a way, we're similar. I think that's reason enough to be friends. And who knows that I've tried—I've tried to be your friend, Wren. I know you need one."

"I don't need anyone," I said stoically, drained of all emotion—unable to truly comprehend just how vulnerable Merlin appeared to be at this moment.

"Sure you do," Merlin whispered. "Everyone does. Don't forget that. But I hope that you will remember it before bitterness and jealousy overcomes you. It's not who you are. I'm sure you'd like to be made of stone, because nothing can hurt you if you're made out of stone. But it's a terrible way to live. Let people in. Make friends. Don't hide beneath this armor you've got, it'll get awfully lonely."

"Goodbye Merlin," I said quickly, spinning on heel and walking away.

"Goodbye Wren," Merlin called, likewise spinning, and soon headed towards the King's chambers.

Please review, let me know if I should continue :)