Merlin was concerned he wouldn't recognize Galahad in the bright light of the noon sun the next day. He needn't have worried. He was there, outside the door, mingling on the edges of the tavern crowd that had spilled over into the streets. There was something different about the boy, something that set him apart from the other townsfolk milling around him. He had…almost a glow to him, something that reminded Merlin a little of something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what. It was something to do with a place, but he couldn't figure out where.

The boy's face lit up when he saw Merlin and he ran out to meet him. "Well?" he asked, bouncing again.

Merlin, his eyes twinkling, made a face like the task was impossible and nearly laughed when Galahad's expression sank. At last, he could draw out the suspense no further. "I'm taking you to a private training session right now," he admitted, grinning.

The boy looked shocked, then terrified. "What do you mean, private training session?"

"I mean for an hour and a half every day, Arthur trains and takes counsel with only his most trusted knights. His favorites, if you will, the ones who were part of the original Order of the Round Table."

Galahad's eyes widened and he looked decidedly less afraid and a little more starstruck. "…I couldn't possibly intrude on something like that, Merlin," he said, sounding a little like he was going to faint. "I've…I've heard so much about the Knights of the Round Table…"

"Well, now's as good a time to meet them as any," Merlin said, grabbing Galahad's wrist. "Come on. None of them bite, I promise."

Galahad protested some more, but Merlin ignored him. He dragged the boy into the palace and towards the smallest, least-often used training court where Arthur, Percival, Gwaine, Leon, Elyan, and Gwen were already assembled. They weren't fighting yet, just sitting in a circle on a bunch of benches, chatting about nothing much.

Galahad went white when he saw the assembled company and Merlin was afraid he was going to faint. The knights all rose to their feet with varying cries of equal disbelief when they saw the boy. "Merlin, this is your possible future knight!" Leon asked, amazed. "He ran into me as he came into the city yesterday!"

"I gave him directions," Percival said, looking the boy up and down.

"I told him off!" Elyan said, blushing a bit. "Sorry about that, by the way."

"I've got you all beat," Gwaine said, grinning with mischief. "I arranged for Arthur to pay for his quarters at the tavern!"

Arthur shot a disapproving look at Gwaine. "…So that's what that bill was about! I ought to have you thrown in the stocks, Gwaine."

Galahad made a small sound. Merlin pushed him onto a bench. "Um…just give him a minute and he'll be all right. I don't think he realized just who you all were…"

"…You…you…You're the knights of the Round Table?" Galahad squeaked. "…I've heard so much about you!"

"Except, apparently, a physical description," Gwaine muttered.

"Gwaine," Gwen scolded, walking over to the boy and squeezing his shoulder. "Don't tease. Can't you see how overwhelmed he is? Never mind that, Galahad. I'm Guinevere—" Galahad went even paler. "—and that's Gwaine, that's Leon, Percival, and my brother Elyan. And Arthur, of course. And you know Merlin."

"Speaking of Merlin," Arthur interrupted. "He tells me you're good with a sword?"

The boy swallowed. "I…I've been told so," he said in a small voice.

Arthur snorted, picked up a sword, and tossed it his way. He caught it in an instinctual, fluid move. The king was a little impressed before they'd even started. "Let's see how you fare against one of us, huh?"

That nearly sent Galahad over the edge yet again, but he swallowed and stood up. Arthur nodded to Elyan—the dark-skinned knight wasn't quite as good as Leon or Gwaine, and not as strong as Percival. He was usually the first man any of the newer, younger knights had to face to prove themselves.

Galahad, however, seemed to be a bit more adept with a blade than many of those new knights. Young as he was, he could pretty well hold his own. Both men were sweating after a few minutes. The fight didn't last long—Elyan still had years of experience over the boy—and ended when the older knight managed to disarm Galahad with a tricky bit of swordsmanship. The impromptu session seemed to have really loosened the boy up, and he looked much more relaxed as Elyan helped him out of the dirt and back onto a bench. Everyone applauded.

"He is good, Arthur," Elyan said, nodding his thanks to Merlin as the servant handed him a skin of water. He drank deeply, then added "Very good. The boy's a natural."

"…Huh," Arthur said, looking the panting Galahad up and down with his arms crossed. "…He's a bit too young to knight, really. How old are you, Galahad?"

Galahad took a drink of another offered skin. "I'm…I'm not really sure," he admitted breathlessly. "Fifteen, maybe?"

"And you really want to be a knight?"

"More than anything."

"…Why? And why Camelot?"

Galahad took another drink. "My father was a knight of Camelot."

Arthur's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Yes. His name was Lancelot."