Gwaine, in a strange turn of events, was sober.

Well, maybe not entirely. But certainly more sober than he liked to be. And way more sober than Merlin was.

"All right, Merlin. How do you do it?"

"Do what?" the warlock slurred.

"What you do for Arthur. How do you manage it?"

"Lemon juice!" he exclaimed excitedly.

Gwaine sighed. He pulled a gold coin from his stash and held it out to Elyan.

"And just a spit of magic," he mumbled, laying his head on the table.

Gwaine grinned and opened his palm as Elyan dug out his own money.