Later that week, Gwen asked Cottia to be her maid. She accepted after thinking carefully about it. She still wasn't sure exactly what she wanted to do with her life, and she liked living in Camelot. And even though Guinevere was a queen and Cottia did not like the idea of queens, she liked Gwen as a person. She made her feel safe, like the mother she barely remembered.

Merlin tried to teach her how to sew, but it was a tedious process. Cottia's fingers were nimble enough at manipulating papers, but anything with string - like sewing or knitting or even arranging her own hair - was difficult for her. Unfortunately, she needed those skills.

"Why can't I just use magic?" she complained. "Can't I?"

"No," said Merlin wearily. "Look, I used to try to do all my chores by magic, but it never quite worked. There's always something you have to finish the usual way."

But other than that, she enjoyed the work. It wasn't hard to help Merlin keep Arthur and Gwen's rooms clean. Gwen did a lot of it herself. And other than that, she mostly just followed Gwen around when she was asked to. It was much the same as Merlin did for Arthur.

0000

One day, as she was sitting on a bench in the background of the council chamber, waiting for the council to finish and Gwen to do something else, Arthur called her over. That was unusual. Merlin quite often hovered around the long table and was included in the discussions, but she never had been. She put aside the Red Book, a little grumpily, because apparently Gandalf had just died and the Fellowship was now in a strange and wonderful land with golden trees (or perhaps it was golden-colored trees. She was a little hazy about that. The language difference between the words written in the story and the language she spoke made reading it a little like trying to read Beowulf in the original tongue. Some words were roughly the same, some were understandable after looking at them sideways for a while, and some were just indecipherable. She had a dictionary, but she always understood it better when Merlin read it to her. It slowed her down enough to think about what she was reading).

"Yes?" she said, not very graciously.

"We have received word of a planned raid on the Other Side to bring out some people like you," said the King, grinning. He'd noticed the book. "Do you want them to try to contact your parents and bring them too, if they want to come?"

Cottia's eyes lit up, and she forgot all about the book. "Can they?" she breathed.

"They can."

"Yes, please. Oh, yes. Can I go with them?"

Arthur looked surprised. "I think you'd be more useful here," he said kindly. Cottia pouted.

"Why?"

"You're on a wanted list on the Other Side. You'd attract too much attention."

"Really?" She considered this news. "Wow." She sighed. "I suppose I'd better stay here, then."

"The expedition will be leaving in a few weeks. We'll hear the results within a month or so." Arthur picked up a pen. "I need some information about them. What are their names?"

"My father's name is Jonas Hubert Parker. My mother is Vivie Helen Parker."

"Vivie?" said Arthur, hesitating over spelling.

"V-i-v-i-e," she spelled. "It's a family nickname for Vivian," she added helpfully. "There's lots of people in her family named that."

"And where are they?"

Cottia hesitated. "I don't really know," she said miserably. "They're lab scientists for the food corporation, so they work out in the Asian Plains zone. But I don't know where, and that zone covers two continents."

"Well, they know how to access the records," Arthur said comfortingly. "They'll find them."

0000

"So why aren't you called Vivian?" Merlin asked her, only half-serious, when they were back in his chambers at the end of the day. Cottia was still hyper.

"It skips generations," she explained happily. "I don't know why. It always has. The girls alternate naming the second sister Vivian and Morgan, and the boys alternate between Gordon and Morgan. It gets confusing."

"Why weren't you given a family name, then? Shouldn't you have been named Morgan?"

"I was the first child. It's always the second ones that get the old names. I'm glad I was first. It'd be so boring to be stuck with a name just because everyone has it."

"Do you have brothers and sisters?" Merlin was startled. He'd never heard her refer to any.

"I might. I wouldn't know," she answered carelessly. "I hope not."

"Oh."

"I don't need any," she went on. "They'd be little kids, and they'd just get in the way." She chuckled. "I'd like to see my father's face when the Clever Ones come to save him. He was always very rule-observant. I remember that the most. I think my mother will be happy, though. She was the one who made sure I could go outside."

"How old were you the last time you saw them?"

"Five. I started preschool then, and they moved away as soon as I moved out. Then when I started regular school they learned how good I was with the portal, and there was a video conference with me and them and the teachers and some company scouts. They agreed to train me as a Monitor then." The angry tones in which she usually spoke of her old life were gone. She looked proud. "They were happy about that. And they sent me a message and pictures every three months after that, until I went into the special school, because that wasn't allowed."

"You'll have a lot to catch up on with them, then," said Merlin. She hasn't seen them in person since she was a baby, he thought. Yikes. She doesn't really know them, just the dream of them she's built for herself. This is going to be hard for all of them. "That can be hard sometimes," he added carefully. Best to start planting the idea that it may not be all flowers and rainbows when she meets them.

"Why should it be?"

"Well, when you haven't been around your parents for a while, it takes a lot of catching up," he said slowly. "For instance, I never met my father until I was about your age. We didn't get on too well at first. He didn't even know I existed."

"What happened?"

"We had to talk. Eventually it all got sorted out, and we were friends. And the next day he died," he added involuntarily. He looked at the little carved white wooden dragon high up on one of the shelves. He'd taken it everywhere, wherever he went, on his journeys while Camelot slept.

"Oh," she said, her sparkling mood dampened. "That's too bad."

"It was," Merlin agreed. "He was a good man, and I can't blame him for being bitter. I just wish I'd been able to learn more from him."

She was quiet for the rest of the evening.

0000

There was a tournament starting the next day, a big one. There had been a few practice meets, but this time, knights from all over the kingdom and even some from other kingdoms were entering. Cottia didn't care much for it. It was too crowded, and too loud. If the duels and jousts could have been done in silence, she would probably have been fascinated, but as it was, the crashing of metal and the roar of the crowd grated on her ears.

The King was in the tournament, of course, so the Queen sat alone in the royal box and handled all the ceremonies. Cottia was with her, but she managed to lurk in the corners, where the noise was not quite so bad and she could see but not be seen as easily.

Cottia stared out dreamily across the sandy arena. Tents for the knights had been set up by the gate into the ring. She could just see Merlin leading the King's horse across the open space. It would be much more interesting to be behind the scenes.

"Cottia." Gwen was calling her. She went forward to the Queen's side. "Would you mind going back to my rooms and fetching my heavier cloak? It's getting cold out here. And you might want yours, too," she added, smiling.

"Yes," said Cottia, and hurried out, happy to be away from the noise. She didn't have the courage to tell the Queen that she had worked out how to wear her shirt and breeches under her dress.

She slipped into an alleyway when she reached the first buildings. The arena was set in a clear space under the castle walls, but it was inside the town. Usually, the alleys were congested with carts and people to keep the main roads clear, but today, they were deserted. Everyone was watching the tournament, and it was quicker to cut through the alleys.

Something dark and suffocating dropped over her head as she came around a corner, and someone grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her back as she kicked and tried to shake the hood off. She was flung back roughly against the side of a building.

"Hello, freak," said a smug voice. "Can't bite me this time." There was a chorus of giggles. Giggles? That was odd. Cottia closed her eyes and tried to use her other senses. That was something she had always been good at. Smells in particular always jogged her memory.

"Aren't you special," said another voice, like the bullying boy's but female. "Nice dress. Of course, you probably don't use it much."

The hood was taken off. She was surrounded by a crowd of girls, with a few boys in the mix. Two of them were holding her. She faintly recognized a few of the girls. They worked in the palace kitchens, though they spent as much time as possible hanging around with boys outside in the street. And there was the boy whom she had bitten that day in the stables, and with him a girl with violent red hair and who resembled him so closely that they had to be related.

"Now what?" Cottia said exasperatedly. "I'm on an errand."

"For the King, I suppose," said an amateur jester in the crowd.

"For the Queen, actually."

The boy - what was his name? Nicholas? - slapped her hard across the face. She had expected that, and moved her head slightly at the last second so that his hand met nothing but air. He staggered. The watchers laughed.

"Shut up," said the girl, glaring at them. They fell silent. She's the brains, Cottia thought.

"Who are you?" she asked. "What's your problem with me?"

"I'm Amelia. You're a stupid Outsider."

"We don't like Outsiders," said one of the few boys ponderously.

"So what does that make you? A close-minded bigot?"

She saw the tall girl's eyes glitter and knew she had said the wrong thing.

0000

"Have you seen Cottia?" Gwen asked Merlin as Arthur sat down beside her. He had won his joust and was going to be a spectator for the rest of the day.

"No. Where did she go?"

"I asked her to fetch me a cloak, but that must have been half an hour ago."

Merlin frowned. "It wouldn't take her that long. Shall I go look for her?"

It was Arthur who answered. "Yes, I won't need you. And - oh, never mind."

The cheers of the crowd resonated behind Merlin as he hurried towards the castle. He didn't know how Arthur could sit and watch the fighting so calmly. Each noise filled Merlin's mind with the memories of men hacking and shoving in the dark, their blood running down the rocks as they struggled desperately to defend the pass of Camlann. He shivered. He could still see Mordred lying there on the ground, fallen beside Arthur. Poor Mordred. He had been just as much a pawn as Merlin had been, except he had been controlled by Morgana.

Merlin shook his head hard. It was no use regretting the past. Arthur had returned, hadn't he? Just like Kilgarrah had promised.

Merlin!

The call echoed in his mind. It was Cottia. She sounded frightened.

What is it? Where are you? he answered.

There was no response. He began to run up the broad street towards the entrance to the courtyard. Halfway there, he saw a flicker of movement in an alley, and went to investigate. He saw shadows darting away from him as he dodged around corners in the twisting alleys. At last he came to a dead end. There was no one there. He glared irritably at the blank walls and began to retrace his steps. He almost fell over something lying in the street. It was Cottia.

Her dress was torn and covered in mud, and her hands had been rather clumsily tied together with some cheap rope. He tore the knots free and rolled her over, cradling her head in his lap. She had scratches on her cheeks and neck and blood was smeared over her face from a nasty-looking cut on her forehead just below her hair. One side of her face was already swelling. It looked as though someone had hit her very hard.

Merlin looked around for any sign of her attackers, but there was no one, and no sign that anyone had been there. But he remembered all the little figures running away. That wasn't important now, though. He picked Cottia up gently and started towards the castle.

He met Percival as he was crossing the courtyard. He came running when he saw them.

"What happened to her?" he asked, gently touching the bruise on the side of her face. "I thought she was waiting on the Queen."

"She was. Someone attacked her in the town while she was running an errand."

Percival accompanied him all the way up to his rooms in the tower, opening the doors for him. Merlin set Cottia down on the table and bent over her. Percival watched anxiously.

"It's just bruises apart from this cut," Merlin muttered. "This looks like a pocketknife, not a real weapon." He looked up and saw the knight hovering by the door.

"Will she be all right?" There was an unmistakable anxiety in Percival's question.

"She'll be fine."

He beamed in relief. "Shall I go tell Gwen?"

Merlin had forgotten all about that. "Yes, if you wouldn't mind. And tell Arthur I won't be coming back for a while."

Percival nodded and left. Merlin began to clean the cut on the girl's head.

0000

Cottia opened her eyes. She had a headache. Really, she had an everythingache. But it seemed like everything was still there.

"Stay still." It was Merlin. She shut her eyes again as he touched her cheek. It was numb, for some reason. She could sense the heat of his hand, but she couldn't feel anything. It was hard to open that eye, too.

"Who attacked you?"

She managed a shrug. "That boy I bit and his friends," she murmured. "I think it was his sister. Can't remember her name."

"Does anything hurt?"

"Everything hurts, idiot."

"Does anything really hurt?" Merlin tried. "Does anything feel broken?"

"No."

"Good."

"I was supposed to get something," was her next observation.

"Yes, I know. Don't worry about it."

Cottia fell asleep again. Merlin got up carefully from where he had been sitting on the side of her bed and stood looking down at her. It was clever of her to wear her normal clothes under the dress she had to wear while being Gwen's maid. That had probably saved her some serious scrapes and extra bruises.

0000

Arthur came to see her after the tournament had ended for the day. Gwen had already come and gone. Cottia was still asleep.

"I gave her a lot of the sleeping draft," Merlin said as Arthur looked at her bruises.

"Someone was deliberately waiting for her?"

"Looks like it. Everyone in town except for the gate guards and sick people should have been at the arena, watching. It was perfect timing, when you think about it."

Arthur nodded grimly. "Oh yes. No witnesses and no way of proving you weren't just lost in the crowd."

Merlin looked at him curiously. "What?"

"Look at her, Merlin. This wasn't a casual kid fight. Someone hated her."

"She said Nicholas from the battle school was the leader, with his sister."

Arthur grimaced. "Them again?"

"You know about them?"

"Their father is one of my best knights. Not a member of the Round Table, but loyal enough to make up for his lack of skill. His children don't take after him, and he can't control them. The boy's given the instructors fits, and the girl is something of a street terror among her peers."

"But why would they attack her?"

"She bit Nicholas," Arthur said thoughtfully.

"Yes, but he started it," Merlin argued. "Percival was there and saw the whole thing."

"Yes, I know."

The floor creaked softly behind them. Gwen was standing in the doorway. "Sorry, I did knock."

Merlin beckoned her in and she came to stand by Arthur's side. "She's still the same?"

"Yes. At least she hasn't woken up. I think she'll recover quickly. She healed well from her leg wound, remember."

"We were trying to think of a reason why Sir Roderick's children would attack her," said Arthur. Gwen seemed startled.

"Was it them? Arthur, you really should do something about those brats."

"I know, I know. But he's been such a good knight. I hate to humiliate him by telling the kingdom he can't control his own son and daughter."

"Sometimes you have to be unkind to keep your people safe! They'll go after her again. I know they will," she added as an expression of disbelief crossed Arthur's face. "I know their world and you don't. The boy's probably angry that he was outsmarted by a girl - and in front of his classmates - and the girl is probably jealous of her. I remember her. She wanted to be an upper servant here. She lost the job in two months for bullying the other servants. She thought that she was special because she's the daughter of a knighted commoner."

"What can we do to keep Cottia safe?" Merlin asked.

"I'll talk to Sir Roderick," Arthur said sadly, and left. Gwen followed him, only pausing to say to Merlin, "Do you think it would help or hurt to make it more public that Cottia is my servant now, not just one of the palace staff?"

"I don't know. Sometimes people go after you because of who you serve," said Merlin, speaking from long experience. Gwen met his eyes.

"I know. I've never forgotten the time I was captured and had to pretend I was a lady. But other times I got places I would never have been allowed if people hadn't known I was her maid. I think it would help."

"Because they know she'll be missed and you'll be angry? Yes, maybe it would be best. How will you spread the word?"

Gwen smiled. "I'll order a new dress for her from the tailor in the town, to start with. A more formal one for court days. She'll need one anyway. And when she is recovered, I'll take her into the town with me and we'll go around the market, complete with escort."

It sounded like a good plan, Merlin admitted to himself when she had gone. He just hoped it would work. He looked down at the still little figure on the bed, feeling a curious emotion he could not quite identify.

Pride. That was it. He was proud of his apprentice. She had been attacked and she had resisted her instinctive reaction to use magic to defend herself. She had let herself be hurt rather than reveal her secret. She had thought before acting. He knew how it felt to be unarmed and facing capture and pain and knowing that one word and a little thought could leave his attackers wondering what day it was and whether this was the world of the living or the dead. He knew what a constant temptation that was. He was so very proud of her for not fighting back.

He said as much the next day, when she was awake and alert enough to come sit on the couch. She looked sheepish.

"I wanted to fling them all away, but at the last second I remembered what you said about innocent people being blamed for my magic, so I didn't do anything."

"I know that's hard."

"I didn't really feel most of it. I'm used to being beaten up, anyway. It happened all the time in school. It wasn't usually as bad as this, though." She was silent. Talking hurt.

"Do you want me to read to you?" Merlin asked after a long pause. Her half-smile appeared and she wordlessly produced the Red Book from seemingly nowhere and handed it to him, pointing to the page where she had stopped.

He read steadily on as the Fellowship met Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, and wandered the paths of Cerin Amroth and Caras Galadhon, and Frodo and Sam were taken to see the Mirror of Galadriel. Cottia liked that part, and when he reached the end of the chapter and the Lady refused Frodo's offer to give her the Ring, she made him go back and read it again.

"She's my favorite character," she said as he finished it for the second time. "She has an elf-ring?"

"Yes, Nenya. It gives her the ability to see a little way into the future using her natural powers. She is a remarkable person - strong and merciful at the same time. Not many kings or queens have been successful at combining justice and mercy."

"But if justice is really just, wouldn't it also be merciful by nature?"

"It certainly should be," Merlin answered after a startled pause for thought.

"I like Galadriel. I like Lothlorien, too. I want to go there."

"Maybe you will someday."

"I'd like to be able to see the future," Cottia went on happily, her headache forgotten. "It would be so helpful. Do the druids here have a mirror, too?"

Merlin thought of his own experiences with knowing the future and felt the familiar tide of grief and guilt rise up in him. "Foreknowledge is a very unhappy thing to have. Remember what she said? 'The Mirror shows many things, and not all have yet come to pass. Some never come to be, unless those that behold the visions turn aside from their path to prevent them. The Mirror is dangerous as a guide of deeds.' It tells you what might happen, not always what will, and realizing which is which is hard and dangerous. The crystals are just the same."

"What crystals?"

Merlin wished he hadn't said anything, but she would learn about them sooner or later. It was best her knowledge of them came from someone who had actually used them instead of from a dreamer who didn't have the power to. "It's called the Crystal Cave. It's in the Valley of the Fallen Kings. The legend is that that was where the first children of magic discovered their powers. I don't know if that is true or not, but it is a place where magic is strong."

"Have you ever seen the future?"

"Oh yes," Merlin said, a bitter smile she did not understand crossing his face. "I've seen the future in the Crystal Cave. It's supposed to be a gift, but really it's more like a curse."

She was a little daunted, but the sparkle was still in her eyes. "What does it look like? Is it pretty?"

"I suppose so. It's a big cave with crystals hanging from the ceiling and walls and sprouting out of the floor. They reflect all the colors of light like prisms. But the visions in them usually get in the way after a few minutes. They make you feel awfully sick," he added with feeling.

"I'd like to see it," she said longingly. "It sounds a bit like Lorien."

"I'll take you there someday, when you're stronger."

"Really?"

Merlin looked at her intently. "I promise." She stared back at him. Suddenly she snuggled down against his side and gave a contented little sigh.

"I feel safe with you. I've never felt safe with anyone else before. Just with myself, and not very often."

Why had he just promised to take her to the Crystal Cave? No one but the most powerful sorcerers ever went there. Oh well. It couldn't do her much harm if he was there to guide her, and maybe it would help her grow up. For all her hard exterior, she still had the mind of a child. He turned the page and began to read the next chapter.