"You did great!" Callum exclaimed, hopping up on a crate Arthur was sitting on. "You were like… like a scorpion with a sword!" He sat down, eager eyes watching Arthur's every move. The king was sharpening his sword. Arthur tried to conceal a grin at the boy's open admiration.

"Oh, no!" Merlin, who was standing a bit away, whispered to Percival. "That's the end of our dear king, his head's gonna keep growing till it falls right off his shoulders!"

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur muttered half-heartedly, his focus on his weapon. He stiffened as Callum moved closer to him, so that they were shoulder to shoulder. He was surprised by the surge of affection that filled him.

This boy… Odin's slave… had weaseled his way into Arthur's heart.

And now, the king was having a hard time getting him out.

"You did do well, sire." Leon butted in. "I think Odin will think twice before breaking the peace after such a display."

"He'd better!" Arthur smirked, holding his sword out before him. The blade gleamed. Arthur had won the tournament, of course. And the look on Odin's face as he watched him fight was priceless.

"Odin's not dumb," Callum agreed, shifting restlessly beside the king. "He'll not even think of attacking you, Arthur."

"Arthur." Leon blinked, surprised at the boy's brashness.

"Arthur?" Merlin echoed, a look of panic crossing his face.

"Arthur…" Callum swallowed, his eyes widening at the puzzled stares he was receiving. "Um, King Arthur said I could call him that…"

"You can." Arthur snapped, narrowing his eyes at his men. "And anyone who has a problem with that, can take it up with me."

"Of course, sire." Leon dipped his head, turning away.

Merlin just kept staring, fear clear on his face. Arthur shook his head, turning back to his sword.

Honestly, he thought. His paranoia has to stop. This is a boy… a boy who happens to like me, I don't see him ever wishing harm on me… and I'll be careful not to execute anyone he loves…

Arthur was sitting on his bed, thinking, when Merlin suddenly burst into the room. He cocked a brow at his old servant. A long time ago, he would have snapped at him for bragging in…

Now, he held too much respect for Merlin to yell without hearing him out first. An owl was screeching outside and the room was dark, except for a single candle.

"That boy wants you." Merlin muttered, coming to sit beside him. "Says you have something to tell him?"

"Ah, yes." Arthur let out a breath. "I told him I'd let him know if he could stay-."

"Stay!" Merlin's eyes flashed. "Arthur, you and I both agreed It'd be better if he left. He'd be safer, and… and so would you!"

"Yeah?" Arthur shrugged. "Well, I changed my mind."

"He can't stay!" Merlin insisted, his voice rising.

"I'm the king!" Arthur growled, not exactly fond of being snapped at. He'd gotten enough of that from his father. "If I say he's staying, he stays!"

Merlin sprang to his feet, face red with anger.

"How can you be so dumb!" He hissed, voice cracking. "Arthur! Can't you see it? Can't you see how history is repeating?"

"He's not Mordred!" Arthur spat, banging his fist on the bed.

"He's not your son either!"

Silence. Utter and complete silence filled the room, even the night bird stopped it's pointless call.

"What…" Arthur managed to choke out. "What are you even saying?"

"Arthur…" Merlin's anger was fading away. The sorcerer closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I know how much you want a son… I know how hard you and Gwen have tried… but this boy… he's not yours. He can't fill that place in your life."

"I never said he could!" Arthur stood up, breathing hard. Who did Merlin think he was? How dare he say something like that! "I know he's not my son, and I never wanted him to be! I care about the boy… because he's an innocent child who's never had anyone to care about him before, that's all! And if I think he'd do well in Camelot, he's staying in Camelot!" Arthur was breathing heavily. "Get out, Merlin. And you can tell the boy to come up here."

Merlin stared for a heartbeat, mouth opening and closing like he longed to say something. Then, with a sad shake of his head, he turned and vanished from the room.

Son…I never said anything about that… Arthur glanced away from the door, blinking hard. He's just a kid… a kid with a lot of potential to be a great knight one day. That's all he is.

Arthur sat back down on the bed and rested his head in his hands. The king jerked straight up once more as the door to his chambers creaked open. Callum peered in, round blue eyes gleaming with hope.

"Arthur?" He stepped into the room, carefully shutting the door behind him. "I came…"

"So I see." Arthur hummed. He patted the bed beside him. "Sit."

Callum bounded over and hopped on the bed, staring up at the king. No matter how hard Arthur tried to ignore them, Merlin's words circled around his head like the residual ripples a stone leaves in the water after being cast. He may not think of Callum as his son, or anything close…

But Callum sure was looking at him, the way Arthur used to look at his father. The undying respect and admiration in the boy's eyes made his stomach twist.

"Alright," Arthur cleared his throat and shook his head, trying to stay on topic. "Here's what's going on; Callum, if I let you stay, you're going to have to work very hard."

"I will!" Callum promised. "I'll work really hard! I'm a really good servant!"

"I won't take you as a servant." Arthur brushed that off. "I want you as a knight. You can't be one yet, but I can find someone willing to start training you."

"Training me?" Callum shivered with glee. "To be a knight of Camelot?"

"Correct." Arthur leaned back on one hand, taking in the little boy before him. "You will train most of the day, and I will find a room here in the castle for you to stay at night. Once you're old enough, you'll join the Knights of Camelot. But if you start slacking off, being reckless, or not showing any improvement… I'll have to send you away. I can't afford to just let you live here for no reason, you understand? I want to see you giving your best effort."

"Arthur," Callum's voice was somber. "I'll make you proud, I promise."

"Ok…" Arthur took a deep breath. "Then you can stay."

"Gaius?" Thomas murmured, taking a spoonful of the meal before him. He'd come home late, and to his surprise, Gaius had still set out food for him. "Do you know anything about the Horn of Cathbhadh?"

Gaius, who was reading a book across from him, blinked up at the young man.

"No," he said stiffly. "Not much at all… All I know is that it can give it's user the ability to speak to the dead."

Yeah? Well, I know that. Thomas bit back irritation. He shoveled in a few more mouthfuls before going on.

"Really? Where do you figure it is now? I mean, who do you think has it?"

Gaius gave him a sharp glance.

"The Horn of Cathbhadh is not something to play around with." He warned. "You'd best just forget about it."

He knows, Thomas realized, shifting impatiently in his seat. He knows where the Horn is.

"I'm only wondering." Thomas played the innocent card. "I mean… Do you think it's even still around?"

Gaius set his book down, folded his hands, and nodded towards his food.

"Eat. You have a busy day tomorrow." He said.

"Huh?" Thomas blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Tomorrow, you are going out to the forest to collect some herbs for me." Gaius gave him a long look. "Some very rare herbs."

Perfect, Thomas tried to smile, only to have to turn to his plate to conceal a grimace. Like I need anything else taking up my time… why didn't I choose to be someone else's apprentice?

"Oh," Gaius carried on. "And the leech tank needs cleaning."

Thomas chewed slowly, trying his best to curse the old man into oblivion.

Wishlin, he thought. This is going to be harder than either one of us ever imagined it would be.