-7-

Merlin awoke the next morning to a raging headache. He groaned, holding his head. Throwing aside his blankets, he put on his boots – having to do this twice as he first put his left boot on his right foot – and then stumbled downstairs.

"Too much to drink last night?" Gaius asked cheerfully.

"Don't rub it in," Merlin replied, rubbing his temples.

"Here, drink this." Gaius offered him a foul smelling concoction. It was a murky brown. "Drink it all in one gulp, and you'll hardly taste it," he advised.

Merlin did this, gagging as the horrid liquid ran down his throat. "Ugg, that's awful! What is that?"

"Do you really want to know?" Gaius asked him.

Merlin considered this. "Not really."

"Good, well, eat some breakfast and then you'd best see to Arthur. He's bound to be in a similar state." He pushed a bowl of porridge toward Merlin.

"Great, that means he'll be tossing things at me," Merlin grumbled. He looked down at the porridge and felt nauseated. "I think I'll skip breakfast this morning," he said, pushing the bowl away. He left Gaius, heading toward Arthur's chambers. He stopped at the door, listening to hear whether or not Arthur was up. He didn't hear anything, so he opened the door.

Arthur was still fast asleep, his mouth slightly agape, his blonde hair tussled. Merlin grinned. This would be fun. He set out Arthur's breakfast before going over to the prince's side. He leaned close to his ear and yelled, "Breakfast!"

Arthur jolted up, grimacing and holding his head. "Merlin, do you have to shout?" he asked irately.

"Just making sure you eat your breakfast while it's fresh." Merlin stood back as Arthur shoved aside his blankets, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He glared up at Merlin.

"Wipe that impish grin off your face," he said.

"Did you have a good time last night? I saw you slip away with Ryll."

"Yes, well, you came bounding in and interrupted-"

"Yes?"

"A conversation."

"That's all?"

"Yes, that's all. I would not compromise her honor, you know that."

"No, of course not, it's just. How do you know she doesn't like you back?" Merlin grinned.

"No one said I like her," Arthur shot back.

"It's obvious."

"It's obvious that your mind is addled." Arthur sat down at the table, eyeing his breakfast with distaste.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Porridge."

"Porridge?"

"The best in the kingdom, sire." Merlin didn't mention it had been his own discarded breakfast.

Arthur put the spoon into the thick mush, letting a pile drop back into the bowl with a plop. "This is not fit for a prince."

"So you're too good for the kingdom's best porridge now?"

"Merlin, if you cooked this, there is no way it is the best porridge in the kingdom. You are not that good of a cook."

"Fine then, don't have breakfast. Don't come complaining to me when your stomach starts growling."

"If it's so good, why don't you have a bite. You look hungry. Did you have breakfast?" Arthur had that glint in his eye – the one that appeared just before he was about to upturn a bucket over Merlin's head or something along those same lines.

"No, I already had breakfast. You need your strength." Merlin backed away. His joke was turning on him. Why did that always happen?

"No, no, I insist. I can't have you weak during today's practice."

"Practice?" Merlin asked, still backing toward the door.

"Yes, the one where you're my moving target and I throw knives at you."

"Oh, that one. Right. My favorite."

"So, come on! Eat up!" Arthur said with false cheeriness, pushing the bowl toward Merlin. Merlin had no choice but to eat. He felt his stomach churning.

"Mmmm. I think you should have some. You have to keep your strength up so you can keep up with me."

Arthur laughed. "That won't be hard, Merlin. I could swordfight blindfolded better than you can cook even after drinking too much the night before."

"Now that's insulting," Merlin said, frowning. Arthur's attention had strayed from their bantering though. He stared out the window, hands folded under his chin. Merlin watched him curiously. Obviously something had gone on between him and Ryll the night before.

Merlin pushed back the stab of jealousy he felt. Ryll was beautiful after all – of course someone like Arthur would win her favor. But there was something about her that Arthur would never understand. If he or his father were to find out about Ryll's magical healing ring, she'd be thrown in the dungeons whether she had practiced magic or not. There was something intriguing about her, he admitted. Something that went further than the ring. Could she wield magic? If she could, he didn't think she realized it. He felt an overwhelming desire to tell her his secret, but that would be dangerous. Too dangerous. He couldn't risk that, especially if she grew closer to Arthur. Merlin shook his head. He felt guilty hoping that she would confide in him when he knew he couldn't confide in her.

Now he was the one daydreaming. He shook his head again, scattering his thoughts. "Are you ready for practice?" he asked Arthur, grimacing. The prince looked up, a surprised look in his eyes.

"Oh, yes, of course." He pushed away the uneaten porridge. "Let's go."

…

Ryll slept in late, her head still full of last night's revelry. She felt disappointed at Arthur's off-handed remark that they had just been talking. But then again, isn't that all that they had been doing? Who was she to think it had been something more? Who was she to wish it had been something more? She felt foolish now. She had allowed her guard to lower, had allowed herself to be attracted to the prince. Foolish, foolish girl. She threw back the blankets and dressed hastily, dressing in a riding habit. She shoved her legs into her worn boots and pinned her cloak around her shoulders. She braided her gold hair down her back. Lastly, she took her bow and quiver, securing them to her back.

She was going for a long ride. A very long ride. She was going to do some thinking. She looked in the mirror above her vanity for a second, pushing a stray hair out of her face. Her blue eyes looked almost grey in the weak light. She looked like her old self again. None of that make-believe princess nonsense. She shook her head. No, this was the real Ryll. Amaryllis, the weary traveler.

She fled from her room, finding herself in the stables without meeting anyone along the way. She skipped breakfast, not feeling particularly hungry. She found her small chestnut mare munching happily on some hay. The horse bobbed her head in greeting.

"Hello, Owl," Ryll greeted her. "You like it here, don't you?" The mare nudged Ryll's shoulder with her muzzle, leaving some wisps of hay behind on Ryll's cloak. Ryll laughed, brushing the hay off and going to retrieve Owl's saddle and bridle. In a few minutes, she was riding out of Camelot and into the forest beyond. She kept her ears and eyes sharp, glancing around for anything out of the ordinary and listening for any unusual noises. She did seem to attract trouble. She hoped that today's ride would be uneventful

The birds were singing, and she could hear a creek trickling quietly nearby. She urged Owl onward, leaning forward in the saddle as the small mare leapt over a fallen tree. When they reached the creek, Owl splashed forward before stopping and lowering her head to drink. Ryll sat in the saddle, gazing around her and taking in the solace of the forest. She found that her thoughts were much clearer away from the castle. She took the ring from around her neck and studied it closer. The purple stone was clear and the sunlight rebounded off the multiple facets of the jewel. The runes were easier to see in the daylight, and Ryll squinted at them, trying to make out what they said. They were so strange to her because they made no sense and yet a part of her seemed to understand them. She was afraid of that part of her. Shaking her head, Ryll replaced the ring around her neck and promised herself she'd never look deeper to find out just what lurked within her – the part of her that understood the ring's power and wanted to use it. But if she were to find someone dying or hurt…. She could not just leave them there. She longed to use the ring on someone who needed to be healed. If she could become a healer – think of how many lives she could save!

"No," she said out loud. That would be dangerous. If Uther were to find out that she possessed an object of magic…. She did not even want to think of the consequences. For now she would keep the ring to herself, wearing it but not using it.

Owl shook her head, spraying Ryll with water. Ryll nudged the horse onward, riding until she lost track of time. The sun was beginning its slow decent into night. Ryll turned back toward the castle, riding hard until she reached the gates of Camelot. After she had handed Owl off to a stable boy, she realized how famished she was. She headed toward her room to change for dinner. She wanted to eat in her room, but pride would not allow her to hide away from Arthur.

When she entered the dining hall, Arthur was speaking to his father about a tournament that was to take place in a few days time. The two men spoke eagerly, and Ryll guessed that Arthur would be entering in the tournament. Morgana smiled in greeting, rolling her eyes toward the two men. Arthur looked up, noticing her presence for the first time. His eyes widened for a moment before he nodded politely to her.

"What sort of tournament is this to be?" Ryll asked, seating herself next to Morgana.

"It will be a combination of jousting, sword-fighting, and archery," Arthur told her. Ryll felt a trill of excitement. She was good at all three of these things.

"Who can enter?" she asked eagerly.

Arthur eyed her cautiously. "Any nobleman or knight," he said, emphasizing the word man in nobleman.

Ryll narrowed her eyes. "I see. And will you be entering, my Lord?" She watched Arthur's face change slightly when she used his formal title.

"Yes, I will."

"Then I wish you luck. I look forward to watching." Ryll began to eat, her mind miles away. Of course she couldn't enter. No man would believe she was so skilled at such things. No man would fight against her. Ryll felt Arthur's eyes on her and looked up. He hastily looked away, and she continued to eat. Arthur and Uther continued to talk of the tournament while Morgana and Ryll ate silently. After she had finished, Ryll excused herself, not feeling much like company.

She had not gone far when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning, she found herself facing Arthur. She nearly told him to leave her alone, but she realized how little justification she had for such behavior.

"Have I offended you in some way?" Arthur asked her, taking her by surprise.

"No."

"You acted rather cold at dinner, I just thought after last night…." he trailed off.

"Last night?" Ryll prompted him.

Arthur's eyes were very blue as he looked up at her. "I didn't mean to… I don't know what came over me… I…." He shut his eyes for a moment as if gathering his thoughts. "I did not mean to take advantage of you last night."

Ryll hadn't been expecting this. "You didn't," she said. "Nothing happened."

"But it could have."

Ryll hesitated for a moment. "Did you want something to happen?" she asked very quietly. Arthur glanced at her, surprise in his eyes.

"It wouldn't be-"

"Just answer me truthfully," she interjected.

"Maybe. I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair, turning for a moment as if frustrated by the conversation. Then he turned back to her. "You intrigue me," he said honestly. "You come out of nowhere and save Morgana. You are skilled with both the sword and the bow. You're stunning in a gown and yet just as beautiful dressed like a man." Ryll laughed at this. "Will you meet me in the forest tomorrow?" he asked quickly as if on a whim. "We could go riding. Just to talk."

"Yes," Ryll found herself answering without thinking.

"It's settled then." He smiled before turning to leave her. "See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

Ryll walked slowly back to her room, her thoughts muddled. She knew falling for the prince of Camelot was dangerous, but she couldn't get those wide blue eyes out of her mind. She was so preoccupied that she did not notice the shadow in her room until it came at her. Ryll nearly screamed. She grabbed for her sword, but the shadow took her arm, holding her fast.