Chapter 5

An Old Friend

Gaius woke, as always, at the crack of dawn to carry out his duties. He quickly bathed his hands and face using the cold basin water on the window sill, muttering a morning prayer as the first rays of golden sun peeked over the distant horizon. He generally commended the souls of the deceased to heaven, and evoked blessings on the sick and the poor, and then proceeded to more specific prayers: he prayed that Lancelot du Lac be received by the heavenly host with grace, that Guinevere be blessed with a suitor, that Elyan be miraculously healed of his affliction, that Lady Morgana's—

His prayers were interrupted by a startling sight down in the courtyard, which his chambers, unorthodoxly located in the tower, overlooked. A bedraggled figure stumbled toward the main doors. Gaius' first thought was that this was a beggar come to seek early alms, despite their presence being banned by majority vote by the court, but then he realized that he recognized those black curls hanging like a curtain from the dusty hood. This was no beggar.

At once he crossed himself, fervently offering an apology for cutting the prayer short. Then he slipped on his shoes, swiftly robed himself, and set off as quickly as his arthritic limbs would allow to meet the arrival.

He managed to reach the doors just as they moved open of their own accord—or, rather, by magic. Silhouetted by the rising sun, the woman made for a frightening, death-like figure. If Gaius had been more superstitious he might have bethought it an omen.

"Morgana," Gaius said, eyebrow rising in alarm at her state. "What on earth has happened to you?"

She stepped inside, limping slightly. Dark bags hung under her red-rimmed eyes, and muddy tear-tracks stained her usually pale cheeks; the cloak she wore was tattered and torn, and covered in a layer of dust; the lower front of her skirt was muddied; and her fingers, Gaius saw, were ragged and caked with filth, so unlike their prestigious mistress.

"Gone," she intoned. Morgana did not seem to notice Gaius even when he spoke. Instead, her eyes were fixated ahead, intent on her destination—likely her own bedchambers. "Forever gone…" She passed him unseeingly.

"Morgana," he tried again, his voice more insistent.

She paused then, swaying on her feet. "Yes?" she asked, light and airy. It was an attempt at normalcy which did not fool either of them, though Gaius recognized it for the deflection of serious questioning it was.

"Are you quite all right?"

"Of course, Gaius," she said. "Why do you ask?"

He regarded her solemnly for a moment. "Shall I send a handmaid to help you?"

"I have no use of a handmaid," she replied tartly. "I am merely tired. I must rest. Thank you."

"Very well," he said, but she had already begun to stalk off, straightening herself somewhat for pride. Only once she had rounded the far corner did he frown, turning and looking out through the still open doors. On the marble steps lay two crumpled guards, snoring, their spears still crossed as though to bar someone's entry.

Some sense of foreboding, unfounded and perhaps not, for Gaius' instincts were usually correct in one form or another, deposited a lead weight in his belly. There was only one way to be sure. He would have to go there himself.

For an old man of over seventy, Gaius was swift and fit, though his hurry had left him breathless upon arrival at his destination. He had taken a roundabout way in an attempt to avoid those who might stop him as he wended his way to the city wall and out to the forest, following a path that, for all the years he had neglected it, remained quite familiar.

At the edge of the clearing he froze, worst fears confirmed.

The hidden cave was in ruins, completely collapsed. A tapering white length protruded from the rubble. Upon closer inspection, Gaius realized that it was the tail of a dragon. Certainly it did not belong to Kilgharrah; he was much larger and golden besides. Considering the damage, it would seem both dragons were dead.

Shaking his head for the loss of such magnificent beings, Gaius bypassed the blocked mouth of the cave. An old, mossy oak towered beside the rock wall, its roots probing at the steep incline. Where thick branches met the stone, living wood twisted, bent, and fused, creating strange shadows and shapes.

He peered into a small knothole at eye level. Years before, the knothole had been quite imperceptible, hidden amongst the roots. Gaius counted it as a blessing for his old bones that he would not have to crawl around in the mucky leaves. It had seemed a good idea in his indestructible youth.

The old man reached into the knothole, brushing his fingers against the damp moss within. His blue eyes flashed gold as the tree quivered with power. The sky above rumbled ominously; God's yellow eye was clouded over. Gaius paid the phenomenon no heed.

"It is early," he murmured, lashes fluttering closed. "But it is time."

{Birthright}

"Soft!" Merlin said suddenly, perking up.

Though no one had really been speaking since their voices had grown rusty from so much singing, disregarding Leon who had been working tirelessly to build them a stair of gems, the air seemed to grow quieter anyway. The jewels had made little headway—the most stable pile they had raked up only reached their calves when standing, and they had climbed slowly and steadily through the night—and Arthur was quite sure that they would die before they escaped that way.

"The wards," Merlin grinned, "they've been removed!"

Gwaine let out an excited whoop, but Arthur's chest constricted fearfully. "It could be a trap," he said.

"No," the warlock responded. "If the witch knew how to remove the wards she would have done so long ago. Only two in this wide world know the secret, and one of them is no longer with us. My old friend has come."

"And he'll get us out?" Arthur asked. His heart rate elevated with both excitement and relief. They would be free, after all! He and Gwaine would have to run from Camelot should the murder of the guards be put upon Arthur, but they would at least be alive. And free. Money did not so much matter to Arthur as did his life. In fact, he much preferred air to wealth.

"I can get us out myself," Merlin grinned. "All of you, grab onto me."

"Why?" Gwaine asked.

"I can use my magic now."

"Right," he said. But rather than grasping Merlin as instructed, Gwaine knelt down and began to noisily stuff his pockets with gold, then made a makeshift pouch by lifting the hem of his tunic and holding it closed with a fist. The others watched him impatiently, but he took no mind of the glares. Arthur and Leon each took one of Merlin's arms.

"Gwaine," Arthur said at last.

"Half a moment."

"Gwaine." Really, he couldn't take the man anywhere without embarrassment.

"All right, all right." He stood and grudgingly grabbed Merlin's thin shoulder. "I'm ready, mate."

"Hold tight," the warlock said, lifting his face toward the ceiling.

His eyes flashed from blue to gold.

Arthur expected to somehow be launched toward the opening above them, and braced himself accordingly. Merlin severely misrepresented his namesake, though, because rather than flight they were engulfed in a veritable tornado. The sharp winds kicked up dust, and was strong enough to move small pebbles and set the jewels to rolling. Soon enough his visibility was obscured by the whirlwind—and the ground dropped away.

With a startled gasp, he redoubled the strength of his hold on Merlin. Just as quickly as the weightlessness had appeared, it was gone. Arthur's legs buckled beneath him, and he fell heavily onto the leafy blanket.

The wind dispersed a moment later.

Only Merlin was left standing, unperturbed by the experience.

"A little," Gwaine wheezed, "warning would've been nice." He was lying in a pool of scattered jewelry.

Merlin's only response was to laugh, but his expression turned to serious contemplation as he turned to Leon. He extended his open palm and spoke a word. His blue eyes once again turned to gold and back again. "There," he said cheerily. "I have removed the curse, Sir Leon. Now if only I could do the same to—"

He broke off, spotting movement across the clearing. Arthur whipped around, suddenly fearing that the witch had returned after all, but only saw a hoary-headed old bishop.

"Gaius?"

"Merlin," the old man greeted him warmly.

Merlin grinned. "Gaius, you haven't aged a day."

The old man raised an eyebrow. "It is I who should be saying that to you, my boy. It's been fifty-four years since we last met."

"That long, hmm?" Merlin cocked his head. "I say, you look quite well for a seventy-three year old prat. You must tell me all about what has happened during my absence, Gaius. But after we retrieve my body from the lake."

"No," Gaius' good-natured smile faded. "No, Merlin, that is not possible."

"What on earth do you mean?" Merlin asked, wide-eyed. "Did you not commend me to Freya's keeping?"

"Of course I did," Gaius sighed. "But the sorceress is not dead. 'Twas she who brought Arthur here."

"And me," Gwaine interjected. Gaius gave him a sharp look from which he did not recoil. "Only sayin'. I was here, too."

"Be silent," Leon said, his tone rough from disuse. "Do you not recognize your Regent?"

"I liked ye better when ye couldn't speak, I think."

"Hold your tongue, or I shall blacken your other eye, man."

Gwaine looked as though he were going to retort, but Merlin spoke. "As long as she lives, I cannot risk becoming whole. My body and my soul may operate on separate planes, but they shall never merge so long as her curse remains."

Gaius shook his head. "In any case, the witch is planning something, I'm sure. She must believe that she has failed in her quest. Now she has nothing to lose."

"Indeed."

Arthur and Gwaine exchanged a glance, feeling entirely out of the loop.

"Er, well," Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly. His mouth was very dry, making him acutely aware of how long it had been since he'd had a drink. "Seeing as we're no longer needed, I s'pose we'll just…be on our way."

"Not quite so fast," Gaius said.

Arthur and Gwaine, who had attempted to beat a quick retreat, halted and turned back with the most innocent expressions they could muster. They saw that Leon, chin held high, had taken a respectable, noble stance behind his regent, though he wore no armor or weapon. He must have lost his sword during the fall.

"Have you no shame?" the bishop chided them.

Arthur indeed had shame at that moment under his scrutiny, though he was not entirely sure why. Cheeks tinged slightly red, he lowered his face. Gwaine remained unabashed, and in fact seemed affronted.

"An' wha've we t' be ashamed o', then?" Gwaine asked, his accent more clipped than usual. "We dinnae ask fer any o'—" He waved his hands about, searching for the right word that would convey the hell through which they had been put. "This!"

Gaius remained quite calm. Arthur thought he saw a spark of amusement in the twist of his withered lips, and a distinct twinkle in Merlin's eyes that bespoke of the same. Leon was quite impassive. Gwaine, for all his previous attempts at humor, wanted to escape just as much as Arthur did.

"You will leave us to face this problem alone?"

Gwaine scoffed, bitterness rearing its ugly head. "As far as I can see, this problem belongs to the aristocracy, yeah?"

"Gwaine," Merlin said, seeming to sense that he had some quarrel with the noble class, "I cannot do this alone. I cannot merge with my body; without my body I am confined to this lamp." He gestured to the artifact at his feet, which had followed when they had been transported. "Gaius is unable to fight, old and weak as he is."

"Well," Gaius said, "not so much that as my magic is out of practice."

"And he was never a match for the witch anyway," Merlin continued. Gaius rolled his eyes. "And Leon—" he turned to him, "I do not doubt you are loyal to your kingdom and would do whatever is asked of you, but even you are not enough."

Leon squared his shoulders proudly. "You shall have the backing of every knight of Camelot."

"And I thank you, but there is not much mere men can do against a powerful sorceress." Merlin did not seem to realize he had insulted two of the company, and plowed onwards. "Gwaine, Arthur, I sense that you two are vital to our success."

"What, have you foresight now, too?" Arthur asked bitingly. "You didn't sense anything when we were stuck down there!" He pointed emphatically at the cave; shuddering at the grotesque sight of a white tail gleaming. The dark sky rumbled, threatening rain. He glanced up, hoping it would hold off until they'd found some shelter, but when he looked down Merlin's face had darkened considerably. Arthur was struck with the sudden thought that it was Merlin who was controlling the weather. But that was impossible…Wasn't it?

"I cannot stop my feelings," Merlin shrugged. "They simply come…Usually I can sense when there will be danger. And now, I have that feeling. But somehow I just know that you two are most important…" A light came into his eyes as his gaze swiftly passed around. "Let me put it this way: if we were chess pieces, I'd be the king, for I am the coveted thing which is protected. Gaius, the bishop—you cannot attack directly. You must return to Camelot and act as though nothing is wrong. Leon, the knight, our strategist. You must somehow rally the knights in secret. Gwaine, the rook—once you've set your sights on something you stop at nothing to achieve it. And Arthur…Arthur, you're the queen in all this!"

"I'd rather not," Arthur said glumly, bracing himself for the Princess jokes from the thief beside him. A delighted look had crossed Gwaine's scruffy face, but the jibe was not immediately forthcoming because Merlin continued excitedly, "Yes, it makes sense! I can feel it in my very soul…Well."

Arthur wrinkled his nose. "What is it with you and allegories, Merlin?"

"What is it with you and being a prat?" Merlin retorted. "Just like your father, aren't you?"

The blond bristled. "I told you—"

"Now, now!" Gaius interrupted, holding up his hands. "Really, we ought to all get along, at least until the danger's passed. How are we going to defeat the witch?"

Leon stepped forward. "First we need to determine our target—who, where, and when."

"The sorceress," Merlin said, "will likely attempt to destroy the object of her hate: Camelot. She intended to use my power to do so, to crush it into oblivion, but now that I am no longer available, she will try another way. Probably she will usurp the throne."

"Then she is definitely in Camelot," Leon said.

"Yes."

"Perhaps we can plan this o'er drinks?" Gwaine suggested.

"Of course," Merlin said apologetically. "I don't feel thirst, since I'm not exactly a real person at the moment, but it has been a while for you all, hasn't it?"

The reminder made Arthur's throat ache all the more.

"I will not be able to join you," Gaius said apologetically. "I needs must return to the palace soon, or I will be missed."

"There won't be much to miss, my lord," Leon said seriously, "if the sorceress decides to enact whatever plan she has in mind soon."

"Enough with all this 'my lord' nonsense," Gaius admonished, but with a smile. "But you do have a point, young man. I shall return to Camelot to gauge the situation. If I sense danger, I will go to the lake," he gestured in the direction, opposite of the way he had come. Almost as an afterthought, he added, "I must bring the Prince and Princess with me, should it come to that."

Arthur's expression turned dour at the mention of Princess Guinevere. She was the reason that he and Gwaine were in this mess in the first place. But he remembered her apologetic demeanor when she had met them, and softened. Then he thought of her sharp, authoritative tone that had gotten him arrested, and he no longer felt so sorry for her. The matter of Guinevere remained quite complicated, so he pushed it aside so that he could focus on the conversation before him.

"When we manage to defeat the witch," Merlin grinned, "we'll come for you."

"Hold on," Gwaine protested, holding up a hand. "Who's this 'we'?"

"I thought we already agreed that you two would be coming?"

"Nothing of the sort!" Arthur interjected. "You rattled off all that chess-speak like a dolt, is all."

"Dolt?" Merlin frowned, temper flaring. "Better a dolt than a prat, I suppose!"

"Come off it, then!" Arthur retorted, adopting Gwaine's grammar as he did when he forgot his father's upbringing. "You're just making things up. No one knows what you're on about."

Gaius rolled his eyes with a long-suffering sigh, while Gwaine and Leon looked on. The thief was apparently relishing the drama, fighting off a fit of laughter.

"I'll have you know," Merlin enunciated, leaning forward to emphasize his point, but he never got to finish it because Gaius interceded.

"I'm so glad I matured with age," he said, raising his hands to heaven as though thanking the gods, "unlike someone I know. At least this young man has an excuse for it."

Merlin bristled again, this time at his old friend. "You're still as dollop-headed as ever," he fumed. "I've been locked away in total isolation for how many years? All I had for all this time was myself. Even Kilgharrah's mind could not reach me where I was. Now that I'm so close to freedom, so close to living, I need action! Yet still I'm stuck like this," he gestured angrily at the lamp, "for who knows how much longer? Until the witch is defeated? When will that be, hmm? Meanwhile, you lot can do whatever you like! Not like you're trapped in one spot or anything, with the threat of an immortal high priestess looming over your heads, oh, noooo."

He folded his arms and turned his back to them.

Gaius heaved another sigh. The grin had fallen off of Gwaine's face in the now uncomfortable atmosphere. Arthur furrowed his brow in thought. Merlin had a point, after all, he supposed. The blond wouldn't have liked to be in his place, certainly.

"Have ye no shame?" Gwaine asked abruptly.

Merlin twitched, indicating he had heard, but did not look at the thief. Everyone else in the clearing did.

"Gwaine," Arthur intoned, "what are you doing?"

"I said," Gwaine said more loudly, ignoring his friend, "have ye no shame, mate?"

This time the warlock glared over his shoulder at him, but curiosity burned in his blue eyes.

"Here ye are, feelin' right sorry fer yerself," Gwaine drawled, "goin' on 'bout doin' this and tha', but ye've forgotten the most important thing."

"Oh?" Merlin said, apparently trying for a biting tone but failing.

Gwaine flicked his hair back. "Mate, all ye have t' do is ask."

One of Merlin's eyebrows went up in a poor imitation of Gaius', which had lowered as the old man chuckled. Merlin couldn't seem to help the grin that broke out on his face, and he ducked his head too late to hide it. His shoulders shook under restraint.

Under normal circumstances, Arthur would have been upset that his friend had again offered their help without consulting him, but the young man had been considering doing it himself. He had no doubt that, had their situations been reversed, Merlin would have stepped forward immediately. He seemed that sort of person.

After a moment, Merlin turned around, eyes twinkling.

"Sir Leon," he said formally, "wilt thou answer my plea for assistance in my time of need?"

"I shall," Leon responded, dipping his chin. "Thou shalt have all the backing of my knights, sorcerer."

"I thank thee." Merlin moved slightly to address the thieves. "Gwaine, Arthur, wilt thou answer my plea for assistance in my time of need?"

"I shall," Arthur said, slightly embarrassed at the occasion's call for high speech, which he did not know well. "Thou shall have all the backing of—well, of me," he finished lamely, but Merlin merely beamed and turned to await Gwaine's reply.

"Aye, mate," he said. "I'll help."

"Gaius," Merlin grinned. "Care to do the honor of knighting our new recruits?"

Here Gaius raised his eyebrow again, as though to say he did not have that sort of power. But he seemed to think better of it, lest he foul Merlin's fragile mood, and nodded solemnly. Only someone of royal blood could officially knight someone, and commoners generally could not become knights in any capacity. But Gaius could appreciate the semantics of a ceremony now.

"And with what shall I knight them?" Gaius asked pleasantly.

Merlin finally realized that there were no swords, ceremonious or otherwise. He shrugged. "You could anoint them with my lamp."

"What, and burst into flames the moment we pass a torch?" Arthur said.

"Oh, very well!" Gaius said. "Really, you two are impossible. I'll use my hand, by God." Then he crossed himself, silently apologizing for taking the name of the Lord in vain. The bishop composed himself. "Of course," he said calmly, looking upwards, "this accolade will not be proper. There is no feast or bath or even a proper channel, or—"

"Get on with it," Merlin moaned impatiently. "Please," he added at the irritated glance from Gaius his outburst had received.

"You'll have to kneel, the both of you," Leon said.

Arthur and Gwaine did, fidgeting uncomfortably.

Gaius stepped forward. "Gwaine, do you swear to uphold the laws of chivalry for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death take you?"

"I do," Gwaine swore.

"Arthur, do you swear to uphold the laws of chivalry for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death take you?"

"I…I do."

The bishop raised his hands to the heavens. "By the power vested in me by God," he declared, "I now pronounce you knight and knight." He laid each hand on the thieves' right shoulders.

"Do we kiss now?" Gwaine asked cheekily, batting his eyelashes at Arthur.

Arthur rolled his eyes, and Gaius appeared to be repressing a good-natured laugh.

"Right, that's done, then," Merlin said, clapping his hands together. "Shall we to the tavern?"

"Or we could to my rooms and have tea," Leon said. "A tavern is hardly the place for a respected man of God, and there's no telling what the base rabble there would do should they find your lamp, Merlin."

At "base rabble" the thieves shared an affronted look, but then shrugged, not finding a good retort to the accusation.

Leon continued, "And besides, my wife should be glad to see me after I've been away for so long, I think."

"Yer married?" Gwaine asked, surprised.

The knight reached under his tunic and pulled out a golden band hanging from a silver chain. "I prefer to keep it close to heart." He dropped under the red fabric once more.

Gwaine touched his own chest, where Arthur knew he kept his most prized possession: his father's wedding ring.

"I don't think that's wise," Gaius cautioned. "If the witch is in Camelot, she could perchance upon you. Likely she believes you are all dead."

Arthur rasped his dry tongue along his lips. "I know we need to form a plan and all," he said, "but I am still thirsty."

"Right," Merlin said. He'd obviously forgotten it. "Well, er, if we can't go to Camelot now, we'll just have to find a stream."

Arthur would drink from a stagnant pool at this rate, so he readily agreed. It was a testament to how parched Gwaine was that he did as well. The man rarely drank straight water.

"The stream is not far from here," Gaius said, "but it is closer to the lake. We must make our plan as we walk, and then I must take my leave. I have been gone for too long."

"Just say you've been taking a walk in nature to feel closer to your god," Merlin said indifferently.

Gaius' eyes moved upwards as though silently pleading for patience. "You're lucky I'm toleration of the Old Religion," he said, accepting the lamp from Leon as they began to move west. "Really, I could have purged you and all your kind."

"Then you'd have to purge yourself," Merlin said cheerily, unbothered by the prospect.

"No, because I'd spare converts."

"Then I'd convert but worship the Triple Goddess in secret."

Gaius released a heavy sigh, shaking his head.

"Perhaps we should be thinking of a plan?" Leon tentatively suggested.

"I've got one," Merlin said. "Gaius will be our spy in the palace. Arthur and Gwaine will be our spies in the city. Leon will be the lamp bearer."

"That's…" Leon began to protest, but trailed off, flushing slightly.

"That's hardly a plan," Arthur scoffed.

"Yeah?" Merlin snubbed him. "Then what's your brilliant idea?"

"All right," the blond said, scowling. "How about Gaius goes back to the palace, finds the witch, and has her arrested?" But even as he said it he knew it would not work, remembering again the murdered guards, blood pooling around their slumped figures in the dark. "No, wait," he uttered as Merlin opened his mouth to poke holes in the offering. "What if Gaius goes back to the palace and acts as though nothing is wrong, while Leon sneaks to the knights' quarters and rallies them in secret, and we three," he gestured to himself, Gwaine, and Merlin, "sneak in through the siege tunnels so you can defeat the witch with your magic? I mean, you said yourself you're the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth."

There was silence for a moment. Merlin stopped walked, apparently deep in thought. Gaius did not seem to notice and kept walking; once he moved about two meters away, Merlin, with a surprised shout, lurched forward as though a rope were tied around his midsection, and nearly fell flat on his face.

"Gaius!"

The old bishop stopped and turned, eyebrow raised.

Gwaine guffawed. Merlin shot him an indignant glare, but then couldn't help but to join in. Even Arthur and Leon chuckled a bit.

Gaius didn't seem to get the joke. "I agree with Arthur," he said. "It's best plan I've heard so far, and I cannot think of anything better."

Merlin sobered at that. "Aren't you forgetting that if the sorceress touches me, it will be enough to steal my power?"

"So don't let 'er touch ye," Gwaine said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"Easier said than done," Merlin grumbled. "That means I have to trust you lot to keep me out of her hands."

"That's th' spirit," Gwaine grinned.

They wended their ways through the trees, falling into silence. Soon enough, the light sound of burbling water could be heard, much to the mortal men's reliefs. The sun had been rising higher in the sky as they had stood around talking, making the air stiflingly warm. Gwaine and Arthur quickened their paces, and in less than a minute they came across the water.

"Thank God!" Arthur gasped.

The thieves immediately threw themselves facedown at the muddy edge of the cold creek, dipping their cupped hands beneath the surface and bringing them to their lips. Leon followed at a more respectable pace and knelt slightly downstream from them.

Arthur took a long draught, then reared his head to catch his breath noisily. This was one time he didn't quite mind the coolness of the water. After everything he'd been through the last night alone, he thought he rather deserved something nice.

Once Leon had finished his drink, Arthur stuck his hands back in the water and gave them a good scrub. His fingers ached from the cold, but it felt nice to rid himself of the grittiness of the cave. It washed away a bit of the terror.

Gaius set Merlin's lamp down next to the trio, his joints creaking wearily. He stood up again with a quiet groan. "Well," he said. "I must leave you here. Surely I have been missed back at Camelot."

"Try to keep the witch distracted, old friend," Merlin said. "Perhaps send as many people out of the castle as will not be noticed."

"I will do my best," Gaius promised. He smiled at the lanky warlock, eyes shining as though he could still hardly believe they were standing before one another again. "And once all this is over, we shall come to the lake and complete you."

"I look forward to it."

With a courteous nod toward Sir Leon and the thieves, Gaius turned and went back the way they had come. When the old bishop was out of sight, Merlin looked around. "We could stay here for a couple of hours, give Gaius enough time to get back."

"We needs must find weapons," Leon said thoughtfully. "And also something to eat. We shall need our strength."

"Aye," Gwaine agreed lazily. "But after a quick bath, yeah?" He sat up and began to strip, pulling his tunic over his head and letting it drop in the leaves at his side.

Arthur watched him for a moment, debating whether he wanted to undress and do the same. The thought of it made him all too aware of how sticky he felt. He at least wanted to get the dust out of his boots. With a shrug, he joined his friend.

Gwaine, naked but for his necklace, plunged into the shallow water, letting out high-pitched yelps from the shock of cold. "C-c-come on, Princess!" he said through chattering teeth. "Th' w-w-water's f-f-fine!"

"I'll take your word for it," Arthur said, doing the sensible thing by sitting on the bank and gently splashing himself, starting from the feet. That plan was ruined almost immediately when Gwaine flipped onto his back and violently kicked his legs. Arthur gasped noisily as a waterfall overtook him. "Gwaine!"

Merlin stood back, laughing heartily. Even Leon couldn't resist grinning, but the smile quickly faded when Gwaine turned on him.

"C'mon in, Leon!"

"No—wait—ahh!" Leon had tried to make a run for it, but Gwaine was too quick, and the knight, still fully clothed, was soaked. "Ahh, damn it to hell!" Leon shuddered, pulling the wet fabric away from his skin.

Then they all laughed.

And, God, it felt good to laugh like that, Arthur thought.

{Birthright}

Once Leon's clothes had sun dried, and they had eaten their fill of the berries Arthur found on a short excursion into the trees to relieve himself, they headed to the city. Arthur carried Merlin's lamp tucked under his arm, feeling somewhat protective. If the others found his volunteering for the job strange, no one said anything.

"At Yuletide, back when I was still a student," Merlin chattered, "there was a singer by the name of Helen. We had the grandest feast that night to celebrate, for she was quite famous, see, and it took a lot of convincing for her to come so far to sing for us. But, well, turns out the real Helen was murdered along the way and a witch took her form so she could kill the court at Camelot, but luckily I was able to stop her."

"Oh?" Arthur raised his eyebrows. "And how'd you do that?"

"I dropped a chandelier on her."

"Of course you did."

"What, you don't believe me?"

"No, I do," Arthur said. "Somehow it doesn't surprise me that all the stories you've told us are about you, you supercilious prat."

"That's my word," Merlin gasped, mortally offended. "All right, then. I shall tell a story that's not my own. Have you heard of Freya?"

Arthur glanced over his shoulder to judge Merlin's sincerity, and finding it satisfactory, shook his head. He hadn't heard the name.

Leon piped up from the front, "She's the lady of the lake."

"Right," Merlin smiled. "Do you know why?"

"Does she live in a lake?" Gwaine asked dryly.

Merlin smiled indulgently, then looked toward the tree tops with shiny eyes. "She was my lover, once. The most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She was cursed by a witch because Freya had killed her son—self-defense, it was. But that didn't matter to the witch.

"The witch made her a Bastet, a terrible creature of the night that hunts men. Freya, she was a kind soul. All she wanted was to go far away, where she could never hurt anyone ever again. But that didn't happen because she was captured by a witch-hunter, who brought her to the city.

"I freed her, and hid her in the tunnels beneath Camelot. We were going to run away together. But one night, when she transformed into the Bastet, she found her way out of the tunnels and began to terrorize the city. I tried to stop her, but Constantine—the king—found her first. He didn't realize what she was, only that she—it—was killing his people.

"So he did what he had to do.

"The next morning, I found Freya in the tunnels, dying. I held her. Then I brought her to the lake of Avalon, and gave her a funeral fit for a queen. Freya became the lady of the lake. She still watches over me there." He gave a sad, almost bitter, laugh, kicking a pinecone.

The other men were silent, unsure of what to say.

"Did you," Arthur searched for considerate words, "Did the king ever find out?"

"No," Merlin answered with certainty. "No, Constantine was my friend. He didn't know what he'd done. To know would have hurt him."

Arthur nodded.

"Well," Merlin said, adopting a cheery tone. "Enough about me, huh? Let's hear a story from one of you."

"I know!" Gwaine said, striding forward. "So, Sir Leon, how came ye t' th' Cave o' Kilgurrn?"

"Kilgharrah," Merlin corrected, smiling. "Indeed, Sir, I'd like to know that as well."

The tips of Leon's ears turned a bit pink. "I can assure you, it wasn't a desire for gold," he said.

"Come on, then, tell us!" Gwaine persisted, grinning at the knight's discomfort with the subject. Arthur pitied him; once Gwaine sunk his teeth into something he hardly ever let go. "Why'd ye do it? What did tha' witch say t' ye?"

Leon heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his straw-colored curls. "She said that I could…" His voice trailed off into vague mumbling.

"Sorry, what was that?" Merlin asked.

"The witch," Leon repeated, "said that if I went in I could kill a dragon and earn glory." He kept his gaze studiously averted.

Merlin's smile slipped a bit so that it was more of a grimace. "Ah, I see. And…did you?"

"Did I what?" Leon asked.

"Kill a dragon?"

"Oh. No, he was already…well." Leon scratched his cheek awkwardly. "I was supposed to bring her the lamp, but when I saw the dragon was already dead I went back and told her that she was a liar. She promised me gold instead, but I had no want of that, and said I'd already been born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I suppose I'm lucky she didn't curse me with spoons."

"Why didn't you go back to Camelot?" Arthur asked. "What was stopping you from leaving in search of a cure?"

"I was sure she would find someone else to procure the lamp," Leon said. "I stayed to stop whatever wickedness she had planned."

Even Gwaine looked humbled and impressed at the honorability of the knight.

"I must thank you, then, Sir Leon," Merlin smiled sincerely. "If it weren't for you, Camelot would most certainly have fallen. Possibly all of Albion as well."

Leon shrugged sheepishly under the praise.

Arthur feared that the next storyteller would be him, but luckily they spotted the gleaming white turrets of the city wall. There would be no time for another tale, much to his relief. Though he couldn't blame Merlin for wanting to talk so much—how would Arthur have felt being locked away by himself for half a century?

"Ah," Gwaine said, ducking behind a tree. "How're we goin' t' get past that lot?"

Arthur peeked around his friend and saw that rather than the usual guards posted at the city gates, two full-fledged knights were standing watch. Were they expecting an army?

Leon raised his eyebrows at them, as though wondering what the problem was. He stepped out before the thieves could stop him. Merlin watched curiously.

"Halt!" said Sir Galahad as Leon approached. "What is your business at Camelot, traveler?"

"My business?" Leon repeated. "Traveler? Pah! I'd have thought my own men would recognize me. How long have I been gone, then?"

"Sir Leon!" they gaped. "Can it be? Is it you?"

Leon spread his arms and spun once as though to prove it. "What's the occasion? Ha? Why do you stand at the gate instead of patrolling the wall? Being lazy, I see!"

"No, Sir!"

Sir Percival stepped forward. "Sir Leon, you've been gone for nearly two months. I'm afraid you've been replaced by Sir Owain. He does not seem to trust the daily guards, so we are made to regularly stand watch for the city and patrol the lower towns."

"Owain?" Leon scoffed. "Owain replaced me? Why, he couldn't guard a chicken coop! Stand down, men. No, on second thought, with me. Leave your posts."

Sirs Percival and Galahad shared a glance, but followed obediently as Leon led them back toward the spot where Gwaine, Arthur, and Merlin were hiding. Gwaine and Arthur shuffled back, heads swiveling desperately for another spot. No doubt they'd be arrested again. Just what did Leon think he was doing?! This wasn't part of the plan!

When Leon arrived, it was to find only Merlin. At the inevitable inquiring look he received, Merlin raised his eyes to the sky. Leon followed his gaze, tilting his head back, and spotted the thieves squatting in the branches above them.

"They really are part squirrel," Galahad said wonderingly, seeing them as well.

Percival and Leon looked thoroughly unimpressed.

"Honestly, would you come down," Leon said, exasperated. "We've work to do, you know!"

"Not lookin' forward to prison, thanks," Gwaine grinned. "Catch us if ye can."

"We're not going to arrest you!" Leon said.

"We're not?" Galahad whispered, frowning in confusion.

"No! Listen, they're on our side."

"Our side of what?" Percival asked.

"Are you intending to overthrow Sir Owain? Because I'm sure he would gladly stand down, Sir Leon," Galahad said. "Everyone will be glad to see you again."

"No, no," Leon said. "Here's the short of it, men: an evil witch tricked me into a cave not far from here, and cursed me—I've been uncursed now, thanks to Merlin here—but that's the place I've been these last weeks; I survived on bat flesh and cave pools. The witch plans to destroy Camelot, and we've got to stop her. We need these two to do it."

"What, two thieves are going to stop a witch?" Galahad said. "And this fellow here doesn't look like much—no offense."

Merlin grinned. "None taken." With a flash of golden eyes, the branches holding Gwaine and Arthur snapped, sending both tumbling to the ground with surprised shouts. "We're wasting time. Shall we onwards?"