Merlin, Gaius found, started off clingy, naturally: but he very quickly showed an independent streak. At first Gaius left him in the quarters and told him not to wander off, nor to break anything. A few days later, when he had some time to spare, he showed the boy around every bit of Camelot that he could. And a week after Merlin's arrival, he was allowed to wander the city of his own accord, provided he didn't do magic in front of anyone (or at all, to be honest), and that he was sensible.

Gaius, then, trusted Merlin. He could not but trust him. The boy was as innocent as a child half his age, wide-eyed and ever-questioning, but possessing of what might have been called wisdom in an adult, but in an infant had no name. And, damn it all, he had a particularly charming smile that had entirely won Gaius over the very first time he had seen it.

Merlin, then, was given free reign of the city whilst Gaius went about his daily tasks. (He might have appreciated an extra pair of hands, but after the broken bottle incident, he decided that a clumsy pair of hands might do more harm than good.) He ran down the corridors, trying not to crash into the maids who walked up and down, and flew into the courtyard before heading off at a quick pace into the market. Today the place was bustling, and he found himself exhilarated by the colourful stalls and the heady array of smells.

Naturally, he wasn't looking where he was going, and so at length crashed headlong into someone and tumbled to the floor. The girl who had just received this unusual greeting, far from being annoyed, just laughed merrily and tutted a little; when Merlin started to rise to his feet, he saw a hand extended to pull him up. He looked up. The girl was his age; the cut of her clothes revealed that she was a child of the city, though the colour of her skin differed from that of most people. Merlin could not help but stare a little.

'Come along, Gwen,' said a voice then, and both the girl and Merlin turned to see a tall young man, who, judging by his colour, was related to this girl, probably her father.

'Who's your friend?' he asked then, catching sight of Merlin.

'I don't know,' replied Gwen, immediately holding out her hand. 'I'm Gwen and this is my father. Are you new to Camelot? I haven't seen you before.'

'Merlin,' said Merlin, shaking.

'Merlin!' replied Gwen. 'I like that name. I saw a merlin once.'

'Nice to meet you, Merlin,' said Gwen's father. 'I'm sorry; we haven't too much time to chat.'

'Oh, Daddy, let me make friends,' Gwen cried, clutching at her father's hands. The man's heart seemed to melt.

'I'll do the shopping on my own, shall I?' he said with a smile and a twinkle, and, kissing the curls that sprouted from the top of Gwen's head, he disappeared into the crowds.

When he was gone, Gwen grinned. 'Let's go see the falconry. I wanted to go and see it, but Daddy won't let me go on my own.'

'Falconry?' asked Merlin.

'You'll see,' replied Gwen, and took his hand. Merlin blushed a little, but held on as she dragged him towards a wide green field that backed onto the white walls of the castle. A number of men who must have been knights were there: they wore bright red cloaks, and, on top of sparkling mail-shirts, red tunics that bore the magnificent standard of Camelot. These men were battering each other with swords, raining blows down on already-dinted helmets and plate armour; or standing to one side watching and chatting; or over on the other side of the field, with birds balanced on thick gloves.

These, then, were the falconers. They had a number of species, falcons, hawks, even a bemused-looking owl: and they were training them, it seemed, throwing bits of food in the air for them to catch, or letting them go after small mammals that scuttled along the edge of the field, or sparrows that were unlucky enough to land in the grass. Merlin and Gwen watched, somewhat entranced; a short while into this display, a boy of about their age, dressed smartly in the livery of the city, marched over to them with his own falcon on his hand.

'He's got a merlin,' Merlin breathed.

The bird was splendid. Its slaty plumage seemed to shine in the sun, and its chest was speckled as a thrush's. Its keen eye seemed to watch everything, though it was hooded, and it had a certain overbearing demeanour not unlike its owner, Merlin and Gwen could not help but notice. The boy was tall, blond and haughty, and had a loud voice that carried even over to where they were standing.

'I want to see the merlin closer,' Merlin said, and approached the fence that surrounded this field.

He got as far as leaning on it when he managed to catch the eye of this boy, who smiled a little arrogantly on seeing this little peasant boy staring at him in what he perceived to be admiration. As if showing off, he tossed a little piece of meat high into the air, and the merlin took off after it, catching it easily with a bit of a swagger; the boy smirked. Then he threw another piece more in Merlin's direction; his falcon went after it, but this time missed, and had to collect it off the ground.

'You distracted her,' the boy cried, aiming this annoyed outburst towards Merlin.

Merlin looked bewildered. 'I didn't do anything. I wasn't moving. I was just watching.'

'Don't be awkward. I said you distracted her.' And the boy, having received his bird back onto his hand, cuffed her a little on the wing for missing the food.

'Don't hurt her,' cried Merlin then.

'I'll do what I like, thank you,' sniffed the boy; as if to emphasise his point, he dashed his hand again against the bird's plumage.

'No!' cried Merlin without really thinking.

The boy cocked one eyebrow. He set his bird down on a nearby perch, and, his eye curious, came closer to Merlin. 'Do you know who you're speaking to?'

'Merlin, be careful!' cried Gwen, who had only just registered this conversation. She ran over, but not before Merlin had said:

'No, I don't, but you're being nasty to that bird, and I had to say something.'

'Did you now? Well, I'm the prince of Camelot.'

Gwen, who had arrived at Merlin's side, had automatically bowed low. Merlin did not imitate her.

'Get down, boy,' said this prince, in the tone of a much older man.

Merlin looked at once confused and defiant, and did not bow.

'Bow to me!'

'No,' said Merlin, somewhat cheekily, as if he just wanted to see what would happen.

Suddenly, the boy's hand shot out, grabbing the red scarf that adorned Merlin's neck. Gwen gave a cry, but did not dare to intervene.

'I can get you punished,' said the prince. 'I can get my father's men to get you.'

'I haven't done anything!' said Merlin: and out of sheer perplexion he began to cry, and ceded to the prince's wishes by bowing reluctantly.

'Baby,' murmured the prince, smirking, and went back to the others to collect his falcon.

Gwen at once took Merlin's hand, and got out a little handkerchief to dry his tears away. 'Oh, Merlin, are you all right?'

Merlin sniffed and tried to stand tall. 'I'm fine.'

'Let's go back to the market,' Gwen decided, and slipped her arm in his, leading him away. They ignored the wolf-whistle that came from somewhere behind them. They ignored the second murmuring of the word baby. Merlin's tears had almost dried up by the time they reached Gwen's house, which Merlin saw was adjacent to the smithy; she got him a fresh handkerchief and a drink, and set him down at the table.

'I am a baby for crying,' Merlin admitted, still dabbing at his eyes.

'Don't worry,' replied Gwen, 'Arthur makes a lot of people cry.'

'Is that his name?' asked Merlin. Gwen nodded. 'And is he really the prince of Camelot?' Gwen nodded again, with a small sigh.

They might have continued the conversation, except that the bells suddenly cut across them, and Merlin let out a cry.

'I have to go back,' he said. 'Gaius will wonder where I am.'

'You're staying with Gaius?' Gwen asked. 'Oh! You're so lucky! He's one of the nicest people in Camelot.' She beamed. 'Is he your grandfather?'

'Great-uncle,' said Merlin, in an oddly stiff sort of fashion.

'So are you not here forever?'

Their eyes met. At once Gwen could sense that she had spoken rashly, though she didn't quite know how until Merlin said:

'I live here now. I haven't got anywhere else. I haven't any other family.'

And his expression then must have been incredibly dismal, because at once Gwen cried: 'Oh! I'm sorry!' and clasped him in her arms.

'It's fine,' said Merlin gruffly when he had retreated from this embrace. 'Anyway, goodbye. See you later.'

'See you later,' said Gwen in turn, and Merlin left the house, his tears now drying up quickly; and his heart was immensely gladdened by his meeting with this lovely young girl, who, though she perhaps did not know it, would surely be his means of recovery from all that he had suffered.

Therefore when he returned home he could announce proudly to Gaius that he had already made a new friend. He didn't mention that he had also potentially already made an enemy, and out of no less than the prince of Camelot.