Back to funny. Yes, there is one more sort-of-chapter-but-more-like-an-extended-author's-note. Yes, this chapter is written in future tense. Don't think too hard about it and it won't bother you.


Back at Camelot three days later, Merlin would find himself thinking back on an almost idyllic two days under Garis' personal protection; watching Gwaine and Garis catch up, keeping out of sight of Gwaine's psychotic sister and mad father, seeing fifteen-year-old G'reth hold his own in duels against Arthur, comparing Gravain's creepy stares to Mordred's. He would think about how much he would look forward to a diplomatic visit to Orkney. He would be distracted by these new memories when he shook his rucksack out onto his bed, but the distraction would soon change to confusion. He would examine the so-called Cup of Life and realize that, although this was an almost identical magical wooden cup, it was not the prize they set out to search. He would be shocked, disappointed, and confused to the point of frustration because it was definitely the Cup of Life he had grabbed in Orkney's vaults. Then he would flip the cup upside down and find the note pinned to the bottom.

Dear Merlin,

I don't know what that wooden cup was or why you wanted it, but I figured it must be important. I've decided it would be best if it stayed here with me. I've heard disturbing things about Camelot security, and while I trust you, I think that whatever this thing is, it would be safer in my personal vault. Besides, Friend of Camelot that I've become, I need some security while I rule Orkney behind Father's back. For all intents and purposes, you've got my brother and all I've got are headaches. I am not a threat to Camelot—far from it, in fact—but keep me in mind in case anything ever happens and someone decides that Crown Prince Gwaine ap Gwyar might be of more use as some kind of hostage or political prisoner. Your cup is not the only thing I have behind these walls, and I am not above figuring out how to use all of it. I will not be brushed aside.

Yours, Garis.

PS: You're probably angry with me, and I don't blame you, but really, your idea of "guarding" is alarming. Try to figure out exactly when I managed to switch cups out of the bag you never let out of your sight in two days and see where you can improve.

PPS: I know magic is forbidden at Camelot, which doesn't strike me as the most intelligent thing, to tell you the truth. What do you do when an evil sorcerer or magical beast attacks? Swords and pride aren't much of a defensive line against the ancient powers of the earth. Personally, I'd rather have a fireball in my back pocket than die some gruesome death. Anyway, I gave you something subtle and useful. A friend gave me this cup—it purifies whatever liquid it touches and does so without being showy, so never worry about poisons or drugs again. You can hide it or keep it or destroy it or give it away or whatever. I don't care. It's yours now.

PPPS: No, I'm not going to try to puzzle out and/or use the other cup in any way. What do you think I am, stupid? Relax!

He would read the note twice, hands trembling the second time, before his eyes would flash gold in annoyance and some pot would go flying against the wall. He would run out of the physician's chambers and race down the hallway, out of the castle, and toward the tavern, shouting "GWAINE! I'M GOING TO MURDER YOUR BROTHER!" as he drew close. All the knights would be assembled there and wonder what all the fuss was about. Merlin would glare at Gwaine and pass the letter to Percival.

Percival would read the note and pass it on without a sound.

Leon would read the note and buy another round.

Elyan would read the note and leave at once.

Lancelot would read the note and hit his head repeatedly against the table, preparing a strongly worded lecture for Merlin later.

Gwaine would read the note and laugh.

Arthur would read it last, sigh heavily, close his eyes, pray for patience, and burn the parchment in the nearest candle flame.

They would not speak of it again.