A few things occurred simultaneously; Gaius dropped one of the glass vials he had been holding in his hands which then shattered loudly, feet shuffled meanwhile gasps or indistinct curses rent the air, as Oriana found herself the subject of scrutiny once more, because Arthur had placed himself in front of her again, in a matter of mere seconds.

"Where did you hear that name?" Arthur demanded, as he folded his arms across his chest.

She met his unrelenting gaze, refusing to look away then; there was a clear challenge in his stance.

"As I said, Merlin is my father."

If possible, the frown on the King's face deepened, from what she could see.

"Did someone put you up to this?"

Oriana scoffed.

"Given your obvious disdain for hearing his name, if anyone did, then they're lousy for it."

Arthur's eyes narrowed marginally, but then he spoke again, in a quick and clipped tone.

"You wield magic and fight with a sword."

"Yes?"

Given the conversation, she hardly saw how that was relevant, but waited for him to enlighten her.

"If Merlin were your father, how on earth did you learn to fight like that, because I know for damn sure that when I knew him he couldn't hold a sword long enough to save his life without magic."

Though blistering, Oriana supposed what Arthur said could be true. Merlin relied on his magic while leaving most of the sword work to her and Lancelot both, respectively. He could use a crossbow well enough, and had learnt other weapons, but magic was still his primary defence, even then. She had thought it was just a preference, but then she realized in that moment that perhaps she had been wrong about him being a knight, after all.

Following her brief moment of introspection, she said, "Merlin's friend Lancelot taught me."

There were more noises behind Oriana that she heard, but still she ignored them in favor of the confrontation in front of her.

Arthur walked forward, allowing less room between them, as he leaned in close to her face.

His eyes were something akin to fire as he glared at her. At that moment, Arthur reminded her of a coiled up snake, waiting to strike. Still, Oriana did not shrivel beneath his gaze. He was so close though, that she could feel his breath on her left cheek as he said the next words quietly.

"I would think very carefully before you speak next. This is your one chance to admit to lying to me, before I throw you in the dungeon, Oriana of Escetir."

Each word was enunciated clearly, so Oriana could tell that there was unrestrained irritation behind the veneer he had maintained thus far. She had touched a pressure point, and it was obvious, given his reaction. Still, she would not be faulted for speaking the truth.

Rather than shrinking underneath the accusation, she glared at him from the cot she still sat on. Her heart beat quickly, and she knew that she was gliding on thin ice, but she had come this far, hadn't she?

Seconds later, Oriana threw up her hands and exclaimed, "For fuck's sake!"

When they began to fall, she mimicked him in crossing her own arms across her chest.

Following her exclamation, he backed up and returned to where he had stood moments before, a body's length away. There was objection written in his features then, but she refused to allow him the chance to speak again, so she continued.

"Lancelot and my grandmother Hunith are the people responsible for my awareness of Camelot, and you. Merlin refused to speak of either topic to me. Though, I can hardly imagine why now, given your reaction."

Oriana bore her eyes into him, daring him to contradict her.

Whatever she said seemed to register with Arthur, because his eyes widened marginally after, then he turned to where Gaius sat.

She tracked him, curious as to what he might say.

For his part, Gaius looked shaken, as if he had seen a spectre. His eyes were wide, and the glass that he had broken was still all over the table. Oriana would have moved to help him clean it up, were she not dealing with Arthur and the fall out from what she had said.

"Did you know about this, Gaius?"

The elder man shook his head.

"I did not, Sire. The news I've received from Merlin is scant, and leaves much to be desired, it seems."

Gaius pursed his lips, flicked his gaze to Oriana, then away to elsewhere in the room.

Her attention was called back to the King when he asked, "How old are you?"

Oriana imagined or hoped he understood, then.

She lifted her head, and jutted her chin out a little as she said, "I'm 20 summers old."

Arthur's eyes closed for a moment.

The silence around them was palpable.

Before he opened them again, the King asked softly, "You're not here only for the tournament, are you, Oriana?"

It was only when Arthur did look at her, his eyes appearing more tired than she had seen them earlier, did she say, "No. That was only part of the reason I travelled here from Ealdor."

He nodded, then exhaled heavily, before he said, "If you're here, then is Merlin -"

Arthur trailed off, seeming unwilling to finish what he implied.

Oriana exhaled then let her arms fall to either side of where she was seated, to brace herself on the cot, before she answered.

"As far as I'm aware, he and my grandmother are alive and well in Ealdor, still. I left him with a note, letting him know I would be leaving for a while, but I did not give him a definitive destination."

Arthur's eyes were on the floor by the time she had finished, but she knew he had been listening.

She paused, then amended, "Although, he does have a penchant for coming and going, so odds are he may not be home anymore, either."

Without her there, she had little doubt that Merlin had left again, as it seemed to her that she was more of the reason he returned each time with such frequency, than not. As she had grown older, for reasons she could only guess, he had become more worried and protective. Likewise, in the last few years, although he had never outright barred her from coming with him when he did leave, she could see how much it bothered him every time she had, so she stopped asking. Without her there, he was free to roam as he pleased, almost as if he did not have a daughter at all.

Arthur's voice cut through her maudlin thoughts, and drew her attention back to him.

"And Lancelot?"

The expression she found was drawn; it was more guarded than mere moments ago. Oriana could only wonder why that was, because as far as she knew, Lancelot had only good things to say about Arthur. Then again, perhaps that had been him putting his best foot forward, knowing that she might not ever meet the man herself. Still, the thought of Lancelot saddened her, as it usually did. Grief did not expire as readily as some might wish, after all.

Her eyes fell for a moment, and she said quietly, "He died, a few years ago."

Somewhere behind Oriana, there were a myriad of reactions to the tidings she bore, but still, she only had eyes for Arthur.

The King's eyes cut back up to hers.

"How?"

His question was pointed, and his eyes almost unbelieving.

It made her heart sink, knowing she had to relay the answer in front of strangers.

"I snuck off one night, a few winters past, to use my magic," she began.

Arthur nodded, but said nothing more.

"Father, Lancelot, and my grandmother had warned me against my using magic of any sort in Ealdor all my life, other than for healing. The village was small, and with it being so close to Camelot, it had inherited the kingdom's prejudices. So, they had me swear I would only use it when necessary or when one of them, preferably Merlin, could accompany me while I did."

At the mention of Camelot, Arthur had looked pained. Oriana had continued though, recognizing she had his attention, still.

"I was in between spells, when I realized that I had been surrounded by a troupe of bandits. Naively, I thought that I could fend them all off, as I carried both a sword and my magic, but there had been too many."

She paused, tears then at the edges of her eyes, threatening to spill over if given further incentive to do so.

"Were it not for Lancelot, and eventually my father, I would have died, as well."

It was a story that broke her every time she relayed it, and that one was no different.

Where before tears had pricked at the corners of her eyes, instead Oriana was weeping seconds after she managed to say the last few words. She still had nightmares about that night. While her experience had frightened her, any fear she had felt paled in comparison for her to the loss of one of her parents.

Deep seated guilt pierced Oriana's heart thoroughly as she sat there, awaiting Arthur's judgement, while her tears continued to fall.

A sharp, strong voice cut through the silence not long after.

"Alright Arthur, that's enough. Clearly, the girl is who she says she is."

A few seconds later, another unfamiliar voice chimed in behind the first.

"Arthur, there is one way to know if this young woman is Oriana."

Oriana wiped her tears away and managed to cease crying as she watched Arthur look past her. His jaw line tightened perceptibly as did the rest of his facial features.

"You both knew?"

There was a poignant pause, then, "I did, but it was not my secret to tell."

"Nor mine."

Oriana turned to the two other women in the room, and found them both looking back at her, though the woman with the curly brown hair walked forward towards her seconds later.

Her brown eyes were kind, and bright from freshly shed tears; tear tracks were evident down her face. She did not look familiar to Oriana in the slightest, but still, the woman smiled at her softly, before she asked, "Oriana, may I see your sword for a moment?"

"My sword?"

"Yes. I'll be but a moment with it, I promise."

Oriana eyed her warily then.

"What will my sword prove to you?"

"Whether or not you are indeed Merlin and Lancelot's daughter."

Oriana gaped at the woman for a moment, but finally did as she was bid, if only because she had recognized Lancelot in the same way as she had Merlin. There were few people who knew what the former had been, and if only to honor his memory, Oriana unsheathed her sword for the woman.

Once she had, Oriana carefully held it out for the stranger, who appraised it with the eye of someone who knew what they were looking for. The woman had hardly glanced at it before she turned to Arthur, who at that point was just past Oriana's peripherals to her right.

"I crafted this sword for Oriana about five years ago. Both Merlin and Lancelot came to me, saying that they needed a sword for their daughter, to present to her as a gift for her next birthday."

Oriana knew that the woman had been speaking to Arthur, but she said shortly after, "So, you're the one who made this. I always wondered where it had come from. They refused to say, though."

The woman turned to Oriana and smiled again, then nodded.

Oriana sheathed her sword, then found herself staring at the woman in awe, as she wondered who was this person that had known her parents? She had always been curious where her sword had originated from, but apparently as had become custom, all roads led back to Camelot.

"I did. My father was a blacksmith and I learnt the trade from him. It's not often I have the time to use what he taught me anymore, so your sword was a chance to do so."

Silence remained in the chamber, and questions reeled through Oriana's mind.

"I hope you don't mind my asking, but who are you?"

The woman stood up a bit straighter, and Oriana could see that whoever she was, the woman was one of status, regardless of the drab travelling clothes she wore right then. While her stature indicated nobility, her face was still warm, as she said, "To the kingdom of Camelot I am many things; one of their Queens, a wife, and a former peasant. However, you may call me Gwen."

Gwen. Guinevere. Queen Guinevere. This was her aunt's wife, which meant that the woman who had been standing beside Gwen, staring at Oriana for great lengths of time, was none other than Morgana herself.

Oriana's eyes flicked behind Queen Guinevere to find that Morgana was still watching her, as she had been since Oriana had awoken. She briefly remembered Sir Gwaine mentioning Queen Guinevere as her aunt's wife and Morgana herself; co-rulers of the kingdom with Arthur. Since that conversation, they had yet to come up again, so it was only fair that she had not remembered who they were until that very second.

The woman in question smiled at her, then said, "I imagine you've not heard of me either; I'm Arthur's sister, Morgana."

Oriana stared for a moment at the woman who was meant to be her aunt and found an older likeness of herself scrutinizing her back. Though there were noticeable differences, the two women resembled each other more than Oriana had realized earlier. Had she not been so distracted, she might have noticed that Morgana might have been shorter, but they both were slight, though their hair and slenderness were hardly the only resemblances they shared.

"Oh, well, it's a pleasure to meet you both. Your kingdom is lovely, from what I have seen."

For lack of a better response a few moments later, Oriana sought Arthur out again.

He was standing there, his eyes flitting from her over to Morgana, when she turned her gaze back to him. He stopped after her eyes had been solely on him for longer than a few seconds, and the two contemplated the other for a moment, before he said, "Right then."

Seconds later, the King strode out of the chamber, leaving all of the other occupants in his wake.

Oriana wilted visibly then, allowing herself to sag where she had not while Arthur was there. She then turned to face everyone else, except for Gaius, who was behind her then.

"He hates me, doesn't he?"

Perhaps it was irrational to think, but Oriana found she couldn't help it.

Sir Leon took one last look at her, then left behind Arthur.

Sir Gwaine sported something of a smile, then said, "Who, Arthur? No, that's merely his usual sunny demeanor."

The tall man beside him smacked Gwaine on the shoulder, then shook his head disapprovingly.

Oriana's eyes flitted to Mordred, who was looking at her then.

Though he was damn near a stranger, Mordred was the closest person outside of Sir Gwaine to a familiar face that she had near her, and for a moment she allowed his unwavering gaze to prop her up, as she inhaled and exhaled. For better or worse, she was thankful he was there.

He shook his head, then she removed her gaze from him, to find Morgana beside her.

The woman placed her right hand on Oriana's left shoulder, then said, "No dear, he's in shock."

Oriana nodded, absentmindedly.

Then, a thought occurred to her.

"How long have you known about me?"

Morgana exhaled, then moved to stand behind her wife, who she took in her arms, and placed her chin on Gwen's left shoulder. Gwen turned to Morgana and pressed a chaste kiss into her right cheek, before she wrapped her arms over where Morgana's laid around her waist. It was a quiet, but intimate gesture, the likes of which Oriana had never witnessed before between anyone.

"Not long after Merlin left, I stopped in Ealdor while on my way back to Camelot, from visiting my sister, Morgause. When I knocked on the door, Merlin answered, and allowed me in. We spoke while I held you. You couldn't have been more than half a year old at the time."

This tidbit both shocked and saddened Oriana.

"Did you ever visit again?"

"No, but if Merlin had allowed it I would have."

"Many of us would have," Gwen said.

Her voice was earnest, and Oriana wondered if she knew how to be anything but that.

Still, Oriana had a few choice thoughts on what she had been told. However, the first question that came to mind popped out before she could dissect them further.

"He kept you all from me as well. Why?"

Morgana shared a glance with Gwen, who pursed her lips after, then Morgana disentangled and walked forward towards Oriana, again.

"I will not speak for him, but I have my thoughts on the matter. Regardless, you're finally here, so if you're agreeable to it, then I would like the chance to know the young woman you are now."

Oriana sat there for a moment, and eyed the Queen, who awaited a response.

In the way Morgana held herself alone, Oriana could see that she too was every bit the royalty that her title proclaimed her to be. The garments she wore were not that of a noble, but appeared as if she were fresh off of a bout of rough travelling, and therefore, had not taken the chance to change from those into something more befitting a woman of her status. Her face was soft, but with hard edges too, which made Oriana wonder how the woman had chosen to rule; was she that sort of person as well?

There was much Oriana considered while looking at her aunt, but she came to the conclusion that there would be only one way to learn.

"I'd like that, as well."

A wave of fatigue hit Oriana in the silence that followed her assertion, and she found herself wishing she was lying down, again.

Morgana reached out to her, and squeezed one of her hands, then said, "We should let you rest, dear. Should you need to find me, Mordred will know the way."

There was a hint of a smirk that Oriana saw on the older woman's face, before she turned over onto her side. Unsure of what that had meant, she wondered idly in her exhaustion if he had somehow relayed to Morgana that they could speak with their minds.

While she fell asleep, she vaguely heard Morgana ushering everyone from the vicinity, for which Oriana was grateful.

When she woke again, Oriana opened her eyes and found that the room had darkened considerably, and candles had been lit. Upon further inspection, she discovered that Gaius was seated at his work bench to her right, slowly creating what looked to be more medicine.

Then, a thought occurred to her.

Perhaps it was not the time, but it's not like she would be leaving just yet.

"Do you happen to have an apprentice?"

She watched as Gaius ground up a bit of what looked like an herb, then he glanced over to where she still laid. Were it not so dark, or she not so far from the table, she might have tried to guess which one it was.

It was quiet for a while, then Gaius said softly, "I cannot seem to keep one for long. Ever since Merlin left, there have been a string of them, but no one ever stays."

Oriana moved to prop herself up against her right arm, choosing to rest her chin in her right palm.

"Was he a good apprentice?"

Gaius poured a concoction he had been working on into a few vials, then replied with, "Mediocre, at best, as he was always chasing after Arthur."

Oriana smiled softly at that.

Her father might not mention Arthur, but her instinct had been correct at least; the King had meant something to Merlin at one time, enough that he was a mediocre apprentice because of him. Though she had thought, given Lancelot's stories, that Merlin might have been a knight, this part made more sense. It explained why, given Merlin's passable healing abilities, he seemed to have known so much about it.

"How often do you hear from him? When was the last time you received a letter?"

She watched Gaius as he flicked his gaze up from his work to fix her with a pointed stare and raised eyebrow.

"My dear girl, you sure ask a lot of questions."

Before she could help herself, Oriana huffed out a laugh.

"I have been told."

Gaius looked away from her, but after he picked up a vial of some sort of yellow liquid for what looked to be further inspection, he said, "I'd think so, after that line of questioning."

Oriana remained quiet for some time and watched as Gaius worked. Truly, she did find the medicinal arts and anything to do with them fascinating. The easy silence that followed, in truth, was a balm to her soul, as well. What had occurred earlier had sapped as much energy from her mentally as a sparring match of any sort with someone experienced might.

The clinking of glass, and the bubbling of concoctions that Oriana could only guess as to what they might be, were the only sounds in the whole chamber. Scents that were dry or repugnant at best wafted around them, punctuated by the smell of herbs that ranged from sweet to sharp, indescribable scents.

Gaius' movements were slow, which she more than suspected was due to age, but still, he completed his work before her as if it were rote. Oriana supposed after years upon years of having done similar tasks, that it was difficult for it to be anything but.

Carefully, Oriana pushed herself up to a seated position, then she allowed her feet to swing around and plant against the ground, before she padded over to the bench where Gaius sat. There was room for her, and so she sat down beside him, looking over what it was he was doing.

Oriana recognized at least one of the tasks he was looking to complete; a simple sleeping draught, which she had made a time or two.

Pushing up her sleeves of her still bloodied tunic, Oriana glanced over to Gaius to ask, "May I?"

Gaius again raised an eyebrow at her, and she wondered if that was a common facial expression for him, as she had already witnessed it twice.

"Do you know what it is you're meant to be doing?"

"That I do, sir."

Gaius gestured in front of her and said, "Be my guest, then."

Oriana began to work on grinding an herb that he had not reached just yet. It gave her mind something to focus on, as well as served to keep her hands busy, which was welcome after lying around for some time. If they were meant to be in silence, the least she could do is help, especially after the dropped glass she had caused Gaius to suffer previously.

Eventually the elongated silence was broken by Gaius when he said, "As I stated earlier, when I do receive letters from your father, they are limited on details. He has assured me that he is well though, and he asks after my own health, while also telling me of his travels. They are few and far between, with their frequency having diminished, over the years."

Oriana's heart hurt for the man, who clearly cared for Merlin. She wondered why her father had not done more to keep in contact with Gaius. She almost withheld what she said next, but in an effort to return truth for truth, she did not. Although she did wonder whether or not he had heard her tell Arthur the same earlier, she felt in that moment it bore repetition, yet again.

She placed down the mortar and pestle, then turned to Gaius again, and said, "He does not speak of Camelot, ever. Were it not for Lancelot and my grandmother, I would have never known to come here"

Gaius sighed, as he grabbed for the ingredient that Oriana had prepared for him.

Meanwhile, she turned and brushed her hands off away from the table, to remove the stray debris from what her handiwork had wrought.

"No, I'd imagine he wouldn't."

The comment was quiet, almost as if it were more to himself than to her.

After what Oriana had seen earlier, she had more questions than she felt comfortable asking in that moment.

Seeing that a change of topic was in order, she asked, "What if I were to be your apprentice? I enjoy the healing arts, and if I may say, you look like you could use the assistance."

Gaius looked up at her again, and fixed her with what she determined to be a scrutinizing stare.

"Do you plan to leave Camelot in the near future?"

The question was a fair one, to say the least. After all, she hadn't even lived in the kingdom or citadel more than a fortnight.

"No, I do not. I travelled here for the tournament, but after, I will need a job to support myself. I've lived in Ealdor my whole life, and I have no wish to go back."

Part of Oriana felt if she had to leave Camelot, then she would actually travel elsewhere, rather than return there. The thought of returning to Ealdor was about as appealing to her as losing in the first round of the tournament she had won by a slim margin. Though she loved Hunith and her father dearly, she had been there her whole life; it was her turn for adventures, she felt.

The elder man remained silent for a long time, then said, "If that is the case, I will speak to Arthur, and have him put you in the pay ledger. Report to me ready to work, after you have completed your part in the tournament."

Arthur's name pierced Oriana's heart like an icicle, but still she said, "Thank you, Gaius."

The ghost of a smile formed on the elder man's lips, before he said, "You have not cleaned my leech tanks. I would not be thanking me just yet."

"Duly noted," Oriana said, as she chuckled a little.

A few moments passed, then Gaius smiled in earnest; it was one that reached his tired eyes.

"Though I wish it had been under better circumstances, it is still a pleasure to meet you, Oriana."