The Unquiet Castle

Leon raised an eyebrow, half-smiling. “Do you not know the answer, or do you want me to guess?”

“Bit of both,” Merlin said with a coy shrug. Leon had a feeling that Merlin was trying to distract him. Unfortunately, a good riddle was one of the few things that could always distract him. He snorted and sat back against one of the library shelves, his brow knotted.

“Hmm, that’s a tough one. How about….Absence? No, no—nothing!”

Merlin opened his mouth to object, then looked up at the ceiling as he spoke the words of the riddle silently to himself again. “Oh, yeah!” he said. “I couldn’t manage the second to last line.”

“I don’t often try ones with more than four parts,” Leon said, grinning. “I used to find riddles all the time to annoy Arthur with.”

Merlin looked surprised and interested. “Did it work?”

“Well, it’d get him out of bed, if only to throw a sword at me. He loathes them.”

“Good to know,” Merlin laughed.

“Here, I’ve got one,” Leon offered. “What belongs to you but everyone uses it more than you do?”

“My time?” Merlin said with a laugh.

“…Close,” Leon said.

“My…Oh, no wait—I’ve heard this one! It’s um--My name!”

“Right!”

“I’ve got to write that down,” Merlin said. He grabbed one of the books and started to scribble in the margin with charcoal.

“You really have to think about every word with these things,” Leon said, getting excited.

Merlin nodded enthusiastically. “Like that one—“

“--About the heart--?”

“--And the triple analogy--?”

“BRILLIANT!”

Merlin looked as if he was about to ask Leon another when they were interrupted by a cough. They looked up to see Geoffrey standing above them with his arms folded. He was glaring at them and the books, which were still strewn about the floor.

“I’ve got a riddle for you,” he said. He stepped towards them as they spoke, making them scoot cautiously backward with each line until they ran up against a bookshelf. “What’s got four arms, four legs, desecrates books and isn’t allowed in the library for a month?!”

And with super-human speed, he gathered up the fallen books and stormed off. Leon and Merlin stood up, feeling rather sheepish.

Inexplicably, Gwaine’s head appeared over a stack of books. “Kids these days, don’t know how to treat a library well,” he said, hefting a book under his arm.

“What’s that?” Merlin said.

“This?” Gwaine held the book up. “Naked ladies.”

Leon blinked. Merlin blushed.

“It’s art!” Gwaine said defensively. “Hey, hey—I’ve got a riddle! A thing of much interest lies on the thigh of a man, under it’s master’s cloak. It’s stiff and hard and pokes inside a—“

“A key,” Merlin and Leon said in unison. Gwaine cursed under his breath.

“I've been meaning to talk to you two anyway,” Leon said, heading for the door. “We need to plan the homecoming banquet.”

"You mean feast, right?" Gwaine said hopefully.

Leon rolled his eyes. "Fine. A feast. You'll still have to dress up."

"Damn!"

Seriously? Riddles? Just when he thought these two couldn't get any more lame...

"Hey, I got another one," Gwaine jeered, "I am a wondrous creature: to women a thing of joyful expectation, to close-lying companions serviceable. I harm no city-dweller excepting my slayer alone. My stem is erect and tall--I stand up in bed--and whiskery somewhere down below. Sometimes a--"

"Onion," Leon and Gwaine said together, in simultaneous boredom and annoyance, perhaps sensing they were being teased.

Gwaine was actually surprised they guessed that one--Merlin didn't even blush--and he thought it was a good one--but perhaps this was only further testament to what egg-headed losers Gwaine chose for companions.

Now Leon, as if being a nerd wasn't enough, was dragging him and Merlin off to redecorate. The Round Table room needed more than the cleaning the servants had given it, apparently, and Leon didn't support Gwaine's attempt to "liven the place up" by sticking a bundle of wildflowers in an ale tankard in the center of the table.

"We'll start the feast with a recital, I think, a bit of poetry," Leon said, as he and Merlin together tacked a unicorn tapestry to the wall.

Gwaine wrinkled up his nose. "I hate poetry recitals," he complained, as Leon and Merlin moved on to the next wall hanging.

"Well, the bards have put something special together for Arthur's return, something about him taking over all of Rome, I'm not sure. It sounds rather exciting, though."

"Hm. Lots of battle sequences?" Gwaine said, willing to be impressed as he eased the left hook down a few inches until the tapestry was unevenly hanging.

"Probably," Leon continued, as he tacked up another wall-hanging. "I hear you're made out to be quite fierce in this version."

"Oh, fine," Gwaine said. "What else did you have in mind?" he asked, as he replaced the expensive-looking vase in the center of the table with his tankard full of flowers.

Merlin, who recognized what Gwaine was doing, clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from giggling, although Leon continued straightening up the room, oblivious. It was kind of sad, actually.

"And then I'll give a small speech welcoming the happy couple back to Camelot," Leon went on, proceeding to drape covers over the backs of the wooden chairs.

"Sounds good, so long as you don't want me to talk," Gwaine said, as he followed around behind Leon, flipping the covers inside-out.

"What's on the menu?" Merlin asked, who had come up behind Gwaine now and was trying to right the seat covers, glaring at Gwaine to cut it out.

"Yeah, the menu, talk about that," Gwaine encouraged, reaching back to upset the cover Merlin had just corrected.

"Roast swan, turnips, carrots, white bread..."

Merlin had snatched the seat cover from Gwaine, but Gwaine kept hold of it, and the two were now engaged in a silent tug-of-war as Leon went on.

"And that's after the green leaf salad and the chicken cream soup. There will also be a fish dish depending on the catch--what are you two doing?" Leon demanded.

Without missing a beat, Gwaine changed tactics, immediately smoothing the fabric he had previously been trying to offset. "Tsk, tsk," he said, shaking his head, "can't trust you two to do anything! If this is your idea of decorating--"

Now Leon saw the askew tapestries and the tankard full of flowers. He glared at Gwaine.

Merlin also glared at Gwaine.

Then they looked at each other. Gwaine was absolutley beginning to suspect foul play when, "Fong him!" they shouted in unison and dove for him.

Giggling impishly, Gwaine ducked and rolled, making a break for the door. He darted out just as a figure stepped into it, blocking the pursuit. Gwaine glanced behind him, the shock of red hair confirming his suspicions.

As Leon and Merlin were accosted by Galehaut's "What are you doing? What, what, what are you doing?" Gwaine kept laughing and he kept running, resolving not to stop until he reached the tavern and leaving the girls to do the decorating.

Following closely on Gwaine’s heels and moving too quickly to stop, Merlin crashed right into the knight blocking the doorway, stopped suddenly, and tripped backwards over his own feet. He landed on Leon’s feet and nearly bowled the tall man over as well, but Leon had slightly better balance and merely stepped back.

“Hello, Galehaut. We were attempting to redecorate… Gwaine was helping,” Leon said as he reached down and hauled Merlin back to his feet.

“If you call that helping…” Merlin added, looking out the door where Gwaine had gone running just a few moments before.

“And that is why the tapestries are crooked? What is that horrendous thing sitting in the middle of the table?” Galehaut asked, taking a moment to look around the room. Leon glared at the tankard with assorted wildflowers and Merlin stifled a laugh.

“Yes, and now we’ll have to fix them. That is Gwaine’s idea of a centerpiece,” Leon said, definitely sounding put-upon. Galehaut tsk-ed sympathetically and then shrugged.

“Well, surely two strapping lads like yourselves won’t have a problem with that,” he said, eyeing both Leon and Merlin for one long moment. Merlin was a little taken aback, although he wasn’t sure whether it was being called a “strapping lad” or that particular look, he couldn’t quite say. Leon didn’t seem to notice.
“Well, no. But it is rather bothersome. Galehaut, have you met Merlin?” Leon asked, and Merlin, realizing he was being introduced, had enough manners to shake hands with Galehaut as the red-head smiled brightly and practically bounded forward to shake his hand.

“I have not yet had the pleasure! But Lancelot has mentioned you. Actually, most of the knights have mentioned you. It cannot be an easy job being manservant to the king,” he said, and then steam-rolled right over Leon’s attempt to introduce him by doing the job himself, “I am Galehaut. I believe you were also away when I arrived.” Merlin smiled nervously, because Galehaut had very little concept of personal space… or at least, if he did, it was a definition with which Merlin was not familiar. He reacted with complete bewilderment when he suspected girls of flirting with him, and the growing suspicion that Galehaut was flirting with both he and Leon was a bit beyond bewildering. Not that he held the knight’s eccentricity against him, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about being on the receiving end. Awkward.

“Oh, it’s not… so bad, really. I’m used to it,” he responded, because awkward or not, at least Galehaut was being nice. Leon, noticing that Merlin was definitely taking on the appearance of a startled woodland creature, stepped in and took Galehaut to one side to get some advice on table decorations, leaving Merlin to correct the wall hangings. He was fixing the left hook Gwaine had so helpfully lowered when the right hook of the same tapestry chose that moment to loosen and also fall several feet. Merlin frowned at it, suspecting perhaps more of Gwaine’s silly tricks, and he was still frowning at it when footsteps crossed the floor and Lancelot stepped up the ladder Leon had been using to fix the errant corner.

“You could have fixed it, no one was watching,” he said with a grin to the warlock, who grinned back and looked over at Leon and Galehaut as he got the left corner of the tapestry hanging at a correct angle again and climbed down the ladder. When they rejoined the two other knights, Merlin was surprised to see Galehaut look up in curiosity and then light up like… well, sort of like Arthur when he saw Gwen and thought no one was looking.

“Hello, Lancelot! Come to help decorate?” he asked, shaking Lancelot warmly by the hand by way of greeting. Lancelot just grinned back, and shook his head.

“No, I was passing by and saw that tapestry over there trying to eat Merlin,” he responded, and when all of the knights turned to look at him, Merlin turned red and again did an impression of a startled young deer.

“Ah yes, ever the honorable knight, is our Sir Lancelot,” Galehaut laughed. Merlin glanced at Leon, trying to figure out if he was really as oblivious has he seemed, and from Leon’s lack of curiosity at Galehaut’s very partial behavior towards Lancelot, was forced to assume that Leon really was as blissfully unaware of things as he seemed. Then they all went back to decorating the room, Galehaut helping Leon with tapestries, and Merlin and Leon fixing the chair covers while Merlin whistled the repetitive and annoyingly memorable little tune Lancelot had been whistling just earlier.

Gwaine's mother didn't raise an idiot.

He knew, when he was hiding out from the regulars, he should always go to the tavern, but he shouldn't go to the tavern.

The Rising Sun was the best place in town, with the best drinks for the best price, but there was this one place in the lower town Gwaine quite liked called the Broken Drum, where the alcohol didn't taste quite like sheep dip, and anyway was cheap enough for it not to matter, and you only got in a fight if you, like, stabbed someone's granny in the face.

For Camelot, it was a seedy dive: but considering some of the haunts Gwaine had survived, it was practically Cockayne.

And it had the added advantage that no one recognized him here, or, rather, if they did, they didn't say. He put his money down first, as was the custom here (sadly) and ordered an ale. It was black and syrupy and warm, but Gwaine liked it, in a weird way, probably the same part of him that liked cheap harlots and planning to sleep when he was dead.

The problem with the Broken Drum was that you didn't go there to meet people. You didn't talk to strangers at this tavern. You came here to get away, to not be recognized, to meet someone or pretend to be someone you weren't. Which was sad, in his opinion: the main drawback of the place, which was why he only went here when he really needed to hide.

It was therefore a surprise when a young man sidled up to the bar next to him.

"Can I get the next round?" he asked. He was blonde, martial-looking, dressed in fine clothes over fine armor. A sword hung at his side, though he seemed as if he wanted to hide this under his cloak. He had a dishonest face--Gwaine liked that in a man.

Gwaine narrowed his eyes and looked around him, as if expecting a fight, but nothing else was out of the ordinary, so,

"Sure," he said.

The man grinned and sat down.

"My name's Kilhwch," the stranger said.

Another oddity. You didn't just introduce yourself in a place like this! Unless it was a fake name. But Gwaine usually came up with things like William and Henry when he was coming up with fake names, not something that sounded like he was hawking up a loogie.

"You're new here, aren't you?"

"And you're a knight of Camelot, aren't you?"

Gwaine froze. He'd left his armor and cape behind, though it was possible he would be recognized by his countenance alone. Still--

Gwaine laughed and took a deep pull on his ale. "New in town, but not naive. A hustler."

"Something like that," Kilhwch grinned.

Gwaine liked this guy, and they drank in silence for a while. "So what brings you to Camelot?"

"The business of pleasure."

"Ha. Barkeep, another round. But seriously."

Kilhwch waggled his eyebrows. "I have business with your king?"

Gwaine's hand went instinctively to his sword.

"Easy, champ, not that kind of business. I'm actually a cousin of the King, myself."

"Wait, what?" Gwaine practically choked on his beer. "Aren't you supposed to announce that sort of thing? Write a letter on the royal letterhead, have heralds announce your arrival, that sort of thing?"

The blonde man shrugged. "Yeah, but where's the fun in that?"

Gwaine pursed his lips, considering. "Fair enough."

They drank in silence again. A serious drinker. Was there anything not cool about this guy?

"You do know the King is still on his honeymoon?"

"Wasn't sure, actually, but good to know. Say, you wouldn't happen to know the best haunts in this town? A bar, a brawl, and a brothel, I like to see one in every town. You look like a man with similar predilections: can I count on your recommendations, sir...?"

Gwaine chuckled. "Gwaine. Sir Gwaine. Knight of Camelot. Well, I'd recommend the Rising Sun--usually good for a fine drink, lovely ladies, and a fair fight. Me and the boys will be there later tonight if you'd like to join us."

"Nope. Had plans to see the sights tonight."

Gwaine nodded. "Don't miss lighting the ramparts at sundown."

"You won't mention I was here? Only I wanted to surprise my cousin."

Gwaine shook his head, belching under his breath. "If you're looking for a place to stay that isn't the castle, the Seamstresses' Guild usually will have a few rooms to rent. Though I could get you a decent room in the palace without name-dropping if you like."

"Oooh, Seamstresses!"

"Not that kind of Seamstresses, I'm afraid," Gwaine said with a wink. "Camelot's a quaint little place."

"I'm sure it is. Well, I'll be seeing you around, Gwaine," Kilhwch said, standing, and, "Here," he said, slamming a coin down on the counter. "Last one's on me."

Gwaine washed down the lingering grin with more black ale as Kilhwch walked out the door. He'd be fun to have around the castle, Gwaine mused. He finished his last beer and left in a hurry. Leon and Merlin would almost certainly forgive him by now, and he had somewhere to be.

“Alright, one more set? Long point….forward.”

Thunk. Leon’s sword struck the shield Merlin was holding square in the middle.

“Alright, Plough. Middle hew. Double.”

Thunk thunk thunk, Leon's sword struck the shield at different angles.

Merlin peeked over the shield at Leon. “You ready?”

Leon wiped some sweat off his forehead and returned to center, holding the training sword in front of him. “Right.”

Merlin took a deep breath and ducked behind the shield again. “Part, middle, over, fool, change, middle, under! Squinting-hew, overrun! Squinting-hew, change! Part, plough, under, over, middle, double! Front hew!—front, front!”

Leon let out a cry as he tried to correct midswing, but the rhythm was lost. He sheathed his sword.

“Well done!” Merlin said, lowering the shield.

“Thanks.” He held the hilt out to Merlin. “Would you like to have a go?”

“No, no—I’ve got to muck out the horses after this.”

“Alright, I think I’ve had enough today anyway.”

Merlin nodded, and together they walked across the training field in the evening light toward the stables.

“Shall I tack up your horse? Friday night, out with the lads again?”

Leon nodded. “I’ll take Lamrei, thanks.”

They entered the stables in silence and as Merlin got the tack, Leon coaxed his courser to the front of her stall with a click of his tongue. He prided himself on having very well-trained horses. He rubbed her muzzle with a smile.

“Er—sorry, which one’s Lamrei again?”

Leon laughed at Merlin’s hopeless face. “This one, Merlin!” Leon said.

“Right, right.” He did not appear convinced, but he started saddling the horse nonetheless. “Sorry, they just look so similar.”

“What do?” Leon said, still grinning.

“Your horses. All nice, clean bay. The courser, the destrier, the palfrey—not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he added. “Very…tidy.”

Leon’s grin faded. “No—no, they’re quite different if you look closely. Lamrei’s got softer eyes, and she’s got a snip that’s lighter. The packhorse you can tell from miles away—the fetlocks are very distinctive.” He realized he was rambling, and changed the subject. “Two horses, swiftest travelling, harnessed in a pair, and grazing ever in places distant from them.”

“Er—the—barbarians?”

“No. Why don’t you get the palfrey, and you can think about it over an ale.”

“Oh, I’ve got the mucking up to do,” Merlin said.

“But you already did it this morning.”

“Yeah, well—if I get it done tonight, I won’t have to do it tomorrow!”

“Oh, come on. You can sing that song you’ve been humming all day. What is it?” Leon tried to think of the tune that he heard Merlin humming earlier, but it was drowned out by a loud singing outside, drawing nearer, followed by the figure of Gwaine appearing in the stables.

“…Try to run, try to hide, break on through to the other side! Hello, lads!” he said, grinning. “Ready to go, Leon?”

“I was just trying to convince Merlin to come along,” Leon said. “Honestly, Merlin, you can ride one of mine.”

“Yours?” Gwaine looked aghast. “You *color-code* your horses! What Merlin needs is one of *my* rides…”

"Who's a sweet ride," Gwaine cooed, stroking the long muzzle of a huge black warhorse, "that's right, me boy-o, you are!" The steed seemed to take offence at being so baby-talked and snorted indignantly, tugging his head free.

"Hey!" Gwaine grabbed an ear as Studly Royale went to bite him. As Merlin and Leon watched, horrified, Gwaine climbed up on the fence that protected him from the grumpy beast, half-wrestling, half-calming the horse, alternating a soft voice with an authoritative one. "Here now, easy, easy! Itchin' for a scrap, are you? Down, boy, down!"

"Gwaine, maybe you oughta--"

"Oh, no, he's fine, just bloody bored," Gwaine swung himself into the stable with the black beauty, who was now looking decidedly peeved. "Okay, now, I've had enough of your guff, see? You want to go for a ride or don't you?"

Curiously, instead of trampling him to death, the horse began to calm as Gwaine ran his hands over his dark coat, shushing him. "Dumb bastard," he said, but he said it affectionately and pressed his forehead to Studly's nose.

Merlin watched nervously.

"Oh, don't worry, Merlin, I wouldn't subject anyone else to Studly Royale's temper, ha! I was thinking you could ride Leon Junior!"

"You got another horse?" Merlin cried, at the same moment Leon stammered, "You've named a horse after me?"

"Oh, aye," Gwaine replied, climbing over the dividers to get from one horse to the next. Leon Junior started at this new intruder to his pen, but although he whinnied softly, he didn't cause a fuss. "See, he's a good boy, isn't he? Follows all the rules, and won't get mad for nothing. And he rides great. Come on, Merlin, say hello. And look at what a pretty color he is!"

The horse the next stall over huffed indignantly. "All right, Pussy Willow, you're pretty, too!" he said, reaching a hand through to scratch the white palfrey.

“How many horses do you have, Gwaine?” Leon asked, sounding exasperated.

Gwaine had to think about this. “Um. Nine? No, ten. No, nine. Nine: Studly Royale, Pussy Willow, Leon Junior, and Nero, and then there’s Bacardi, Scrumpy, Beefeater, and Drambuie.” He pointed each one out down the line, immensely proud of his equine fleet.

“How can you possibly afford them all?” Leon wondered.

Gwaine thought he was kidding. “What else am I supposed to do with all this money we get?”

“Pick up the tab once in a while?” Merlin tried.

Leon snorted, but Gwaine didn’t see what was funny. “Ach, see how you are? I offer to let you ride me third-best horse and you insult me! Put that bloody rake down, Merlin, I already got someone coming in to do the mucking out!”

“What? Who?”

Gwaine shrugged. “Some bloke, tanner’s son, I think. Offered a silver coin to him for his trouble.”

“That’s more than I get in a whole week!” Merlin squeaked.

“What, really? I could pay you to do it, haha. Still, you should come out with us just the same, Merlin. I’ll buy you dinner. And I might even pay for drinks!”

Free food was one of those things that Merlin was generally incapable of refusing. Gwaine, he reflected, probably knew this, and that was probably why he had hauled out the bright gold horse’s saddle before Merlin had even agreed to going to the tavern. And all the knights knew that if Merlin was distracted, you could hand him almost anything and he’d take it. So it was no surprise to him that he found himself putting the saddle on the horse even before he finally decided it probably wouldn’t kill him to go to the tavern.

“But…” he said, not even sure what he was protesting.

“You’ve already saddled up, you may as well come with us,” Leon said helpfully. He’d wandered off and returned with Lamrei, who'd been standing quietly where Merlin had saddled her. While Gwaine took his life into his own hands saddling up the homicidal Royale, Merlin swung into Leon Jr.’s saddle and looked down at the horse’s ears as they swiveled back to him. The horse snorted softly and took a few hesitant steps outside. Leon followed Merlin out of the stable on Lamrei, and they waited for Gwaine to appear, hopefully on Royale and not being dragged along by the reins he occasionally chose to wrap around his wrist to keep the big black horse from walking away without a rider.

Gwaine did eventually manage to get Royale saddled, and he even got into the saddle. Then Royale decided he was tired of waiting and blasted out of the stable, scattering chickens and geese that loitered in front of the door, and surprising both Lamrei and Leon Jr., not to mention their riders, as he tore past them. Leon’s bay leaped after them, and Merlin finally got Leon Jr. to follow at a sedate canter. He was left bringing up the end of what turned out to be a mildly destructive train, as Gwaine went hooting and hollering through the town with Leon on his heels scolding at the top of his lungs, and neither of them paying a lot of attention to what they nearly ran over.

But soon Gwaine’s horse had had enough of galloping on the uneven cobbles and slowed down. Really, he slowed to a walk quite suddenly, causing Lamrei to nearly crash into him, which very nearly resulted in a kicking and biting match in the middle of the thoroughfare before both knights got their horses under control. Merlin caught up with them and rode between the two war horses, since the sun-gold horse was not inclined to react much at all to mock-bites, and Lamrei stopped trying to fight once separated from Royale.

“You owe someone almost a full cart of cabbages,” Merlin remarked as they clopped along, and Gwaine laughed while Leon looked chagrined.

“Cabbages. Who needs cabbages?” Gwaine asked. Clearly, in his opinion, cabbages occupied the same general category as other disgusting things, including probably all other vegetables.

“We can’t all survive on a steady diet of ale and apples,” Leon said from Merlin’s other side, which caused Merlin to snort and then laugh as Gwaine glared at Leon and Leon grinned innocently.

“I eat other things!” Gwaine finally protested.

“Like that chicken I saw you and Percival stealing from the kitchens?” Merlin asked wickedly.

“The one you saw us stealing while you were nicking one of those little steak pies?” Gwaine countered.

“I was getting laundry!”

“In the kitchens?”

“The steam gets the wrinkles out!”

“Sir Gwaine! Merlin!” The bickering pair both turned and looked at Leon as he broke in on their argument. Merlin looked abashed. Gwaine grinned unapologetically at the older knight.

“Would you like to keep arguing, or shall we go in?” Leon asked when he had their attention, and after he’d stopped Gwaine elbowing Merlin with a flat look. Both Merlin and Gwaine turned to look in front of them, and saw that indeed, they were almost to the Rising Sun.

The other knights were already there, but when the three walked in, they hulloo’ed and waved them over and made room. Lancelot was up on the stage singing some vaguely mournful song, which Merlin caught a few lines of as he wandered in.

But you misread my meaning when I met you
Closed the door and left me blinded by the light

He just shook his head and sat down in the spot Galehaut offered next to him, waving a general hello to everyone as he did so. Lancelot finished his tune and sat down with a grin quite at odds with the words he’d just been singing, on Merlin’s other side. He clapped Merlin on the back as he sat down and Percival wandered up to the stage with some of the others.

You can shake an apple off an apple tree

Stuck between Lancelot and Galehaut, who had started chattering away the second Lancelot sat down, Merlin sat quietly and tried to stay out of the way of the conversation for the entirety of the song before Gwaine, who he thought had been up playing some instrument or another, sat down and set a drink in front of Merlin.

“What is that?” Merlin asked, eyeing the thing a bit distrustfully. Gwaine managed to pretend he was deeply injured by this mistrust.

“It’s only mead,” he said, “It won’t bite you. Besides, you can’t sing unless you’ve had a drink!”

Merlin, who had been taking an experimental sip just to make sure Gwaine wasn’t lying, nearly spit the honey-sweet alcohol all over his friend. Instead, he swallowed, half-choked, and when he got his breath back, tried to shrink into the bench while Galehaut, Lancelot, and Gwaine all looked at him.

“Uhhhh,” he said, trying to quickly think of a reason he couldn’t sing. Seeing the deer-in-headlights look on Merlin’s face, Galehaut laughed and spoke up before Merlin could say anything.

“Ah, perhaps I should sing? Percival was just saying I had to, some rite of passage or something,” he said, and Gwaine considered this for a second. Finally, after another meditative drink of whatever he was drinking, he assented. While Galehaut was up singing, and before Gwaine could corral him into singing after the newest knight, Merlin got up and went to sit across from Leon.

“That riddle about the horses,” he said by way of greeting, and Leon smiled.

“Do you have it?” he asked. Merlin shook his head, smiling wryly.

“No, not exactly. Well, not at all, really,” he answered. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer or a hint, but anything was better than being forced to sing in front of a bunch of people.

“Think about…other things the horses could be.” Leon took a drink of his ale.

Elyan started singing a song about a brown-eyed girl and Merlin’s face lit up. “Eyes!” He wrinkled his nose. “Not sure if that was your best one, though. The clues are a bit foggy…”

“Oh, no—you’ve got to find one for me now. Anyway, I think I’m to be playing lute on this one.”

He pulled his lute out of its case and got on the little stage with Elyan and Galehaut, and the other Friday Knights followed suit. Leon played rhythm-lute throughout most of the night, only taking a break to play drum on a foreign song called “Oye Como Va,” a tune which apparently Lancelot, Elyan and Gwaine loved but one which neither Percival or Leon had ever heard of. The rhythm was easy to learn and fun to play, though, and they enjoyed it while the other three took turns singing the foreign lyrics and playing equally foreign instruments.

Afterwards they played a few dice games, which Leon hadn’t played since the massacre by Cenred’s men. They were soldiers, of course—death came with the job, and it was best not to dwell on it—but he was afraid it might be awkward, especially for people who lived through it all like Stuart and himself. But it wasn’t bad—it was fun, even. He hadn’t relaxed like this in a while, and they laughed and joked their way well into the night. Now and then he thought he saw Bedivere out of the corner of his eye, or mistook Merlin’s laugh for Galahad’s. He tried not to think about it.

Gwaine had just finished drinking from the Rising Sun’s Aurochs horn, having realized that Stuart would give him the lot free if he could take all seven pints of it down in one go. Everyone cheered as he just managed it, and Leon joined in.

“Come on, Merlin! Your turn!” Gwaine shouted.

Leon glanced at Merlin, who was grinning goofily at the huge drinking horn.

“Right,” he said, and stood up, knocking an empty tankard of ale over in the process.

“No one can drink as much as Gwaine,” Leon said, trying to keep the mood cheerful while he reached over to pull Merlin back down into his seat.

Merlin shook him off. “Is that a challenge?”

“Drink! Drink! Drink!” Gwaine shouted happily.

Leon gave Merlin a warning glare. “Come on, you’re going to poison yourself trying that—sit down.”

“Don’t be a wet hen, Leon!” Percival said.

Gwaine laughed. “Drink fast, Merlin or you’ll never manage it!”

“Stop encouraging him, Gwaine!”

Merlin grabbed the horn. “Nah, I can do it! Doesn’t look that big—!“

“Listen, Galahad, you’re—!” He stopped, instantly turning bright red.

Gwaine, Merlin and Elyan laughed, though a large portion of the tavern had gone silent as well. “Don’t you mean Galehaut?” Elyan laughed.

“Don’t you mean *Merlin*?” Gwaine said, which sent them into further bouts of laughter.

“Where’d Galahad come from?” Merlin giggled.

But Leon was finished making an idiot of himself. He left them laughing behind and hurriedly made his way to the bar.

“Another, Stuart,” he said, pushing his tankard forward. Owen caught his eye—he had heard Leon’s outburst—and quickly took the tankard to fill it.
Well, that was certainly something that didn’t need to be brought up—here of all places….

“What’s wrong? Who’s Galahad?”

Leon looked up to see Merlin standing beside him. “It’s nothing,” Leon said, looking to see if Stuart had finished refilling his drink. But the barrel was empty, and the barman disappeared into the back to fetch another.

“Was he a soldier?” Merlin asked, this time more quietly. Leon glanced at him, and saw genuine concern in the young man’s face. He sighed. It wasn’t really a secret. People just didn’t talk about it.

“Yes. He was training with me to become a knight. You may have seen him around. Brown hair—shorter than me.” He paused, and cursing Stuart’s slowness, continued with, “His parents—well, he was about your age, and we were from the same province, so they asked me to look after him. I should have been able to, second in command and all that. And I swore to guard him with my life. He was one of the most promising lads of the bunch. He was kind and he worked hard—like you do.” He shrugged. “And when the great dragon escaped…. Anyway, we try not to talk about it. The tavern’s no place for that kind of thing.”

“What happened to him?” Merlin asked, breathlessly.

Leon glanced at Merlin then down at the bar. “He was killed in one of the last fire attacks.” Oh God, it still hurt to admit it, even now, years later. He blinked and pushed back from the bar. “Why don’t you have my last pint? It’s been a long day.”

“Leon—“

“Give it to Gwaine, actually—you’ve had more than enough to drink tonight. Good night, Merlin,” he said, and headed for the exit. As he opened the door he heard Gwaine say, “Are you going to drink that?”

From time to time, Merlin unexpectedly found out about the consequences of things he’d done years and years ago. Usually he heard it second-hand, or from someone who’d known someone who’d known someone, and it always made him uncomfortable and oddly numb. But to find himself face-to-face with the grief the dragon had caused when he’d let it free, and not someone he barely knew and would have felt bad for anyway, but Leon, of all people… Merlin felt that familiar knot of guilt in the pit of his stomach and frowned. He stood starring at the door after it clattered shut behind the blonde knight, and didn’t initially hear Gwaine asking him if he was going to drink the ale Leon had left.

“Merlin! On second thought, you better let me handle that,” Gwaine said, mistaking Merlin’s inattentiveness for some sort of momentary, alcohol-induced stupor. Not wanting to explain anything at all to his friend right at the moment, Merlin forced a fairly convincing grin over what he knew was one of his most recognizable kicked-puppy looks and turned to Gwaine.

“Oh, er… yes, you can have it,” he said, handing him the pint. He heard some girl giggle from just beyond Gwaine and glanced over the man’s shoulder to see not one, but two young ladies in truly outlandish clothes. One stepped forward and practically hung off Gwaine’s shoulder, while her twin sister, identical in all but her hair color, which was brown instead of blonde, looked over Gwaine’s other shoulder, blinking a little owlishly. Her attempt to make her eyes look large and doe-like were lost on Gwaine as he took a drink of the ale.

“Ladies, now, you’re going to make me spill my beer, and that would be a true tragedy!” he laughed at the two, who both giggled and stopped draping themselves all over him.

“But you said we could meet the other knights!” they mock-whined.

“So I did! Merlin, why don’t you come sit back down with us instead of lurking about up here all by yourself!” he said, turning and leading the simpering women to the knights’ table. He didn’t look back, apparently expecting Merlin to follow, but Merlin had had quite enough of the tavern tonight. Before anyone could think to drag him back to the table, he slunk to the door and slipped outside, holding it as it swung shut so it wouldn’t clatter. His absence was apparently not noticed, as he heard the uproarious laughter of knights and the high-pitched girlish giggles of the twin sisters.

"Goodnight, gentleman," Galehaut hiccuped demurely, and smiled. "It was ever so thoughtful of you to invite me to such a spectacle. I assure you I had a most pleasant evening...er, morning, now, isn't it? Teehee!" he said, and shut his door.

The last three standing Friday Knights staggered down the hall, mumbling their good-nights as they tried to locate their rooms without incident.

"'Night, Perce. 'Night, Elyan."

"'Night, Lance. 'Night Perce."

"'Night, Elyan. 'Night, Lance," Percival replied, walking into the doorframe instead of the door to his room and giggling. "Wait. Wheredidda others go?"

Elyan rolled his eyes and just shut his door, leaving Lancelot, who was probably more sober and definitely more patient, to explain things. "The others? They've just gone to bed. Leon and Merlin left early, remember? And Gwaine stayed behind with Cadi or Mari or whichever one it was..."

Percival giggled again, and hiccuped. "Ohhhh yeah!"

"All right, you big lump, it's past your bedtime," Lancelot urged, shoving Percival gently into his room. He helped the bigger knight off with his boots and made sure he was sleeping safely before he blew out the low-burning candle and shut the door quietly after him.

All was dark and silent in Camelot. It was a bit scary, but beautiful. Lancelot gave a contented sigh and had just grasped the handle to his own room when he heard a whisper--

Lancelot...

Lancelot looked around, but there was no one there. Assuming it was the wind or his imagination, Lancelot opened his door, just as--

Sir Lancelot, please...

Okay, that was definitely not the wind.

"Hello?" Lancelot asked.

Nothing.

"Is anyone there?"

Lancelot!

The voice! He knew it! "Gwen? Guinevere?"

Lancelot, I need you!

"I'm coming, Gwen!" he called, suddenly heedless of the hour or the darkness of the castle, charging down the hallway. Her voice led him on for some time, until he was thoroughly lost and confused and anxious.

Lancelot!

Suddenly the voice was right here, behind this door, and Lancelot threw it open with wild abandon, naked sword ready, shouting "Gwen!" as he discovered--

"Ooh!" Came a cry from the...bedroom? Lancelot now found himself in.

"Galehaut?"

"Sir Lancelot!" Galehaut was sitting up in bed, white as his nightshirt, clutching somewhat dramatically at the sheets. "I--er--I had no idea!"

"No idea what?" Lancelot blurted out, putting his sword quickly behind his back and growing increasingly embarrassed. "I only thought I heard--did you hear voices?"

"None but yours, I'm afraid." Galehaut smiled warmly. "Is everything all right, Sir Lancelot?"

"Er. Yes. Everything's fine. All fine here, yes, thank you, good. How are you?" Lancelot regretted it as soon as it was out of his mouth.

"Well, you know how it is. Although I can certainly think of many a ruder awakening than your heroic physique startling me from my beauty rest, what?" he grinned impishly.

"Yes. Um." Lancelot wasn't sure how to reply to that. "Sorry to disturb you. Good night."

"And a good night to you, too, Sir Knight."

Awkward...

Gwaine groaned at the morning light in his face, cursing himself--not for the first time--that he'd requested a bedroom with a window. He was ignoring, of course, the vast majority of the time when he would just stare out that window at the view of the sky, the town, and the world beyond that just made his heart bloody soar.

But, no, right now, that window was a cruel device meant to torture him, as was the light it brought with it.

Gwaine could handle his liquor, to an almost inhuman level. But last night--from what he could recall, anyway--he'd drunk Leon's, Percival's, Lancelot's, Elyan's, Galehaut's, and Merlin's liquor, as well, at which point it pretty well stopped being an ability to hold his liquor, as it were. And, well, the problem wasn't so much with holding it as it was with living with the consequences.

He wasn't even sure he remembered getting to his room. But this definitely was his room, so that much was good. He remembered the twins--good times--though he definitely felt in need of a bath now--and, oh, that was right: they snored. Since he vaguely remembered both of them being present (though that could have just been that he was seeing double) he could very easily see himself slipping out in the wee hours of the morning in order to actually get some rest.

Which meant he'd only been asleep a few hours. Ah, well, hoot with the owls, soar with the eagles, and all that: Gwaine heaved himself upright. He steadied, did not puke, and then moved to standing.

His door was open, and Lancelot wandered past, but did a double-take at the door. "When did you get in?"

Gwaine ignored the question in favor of gripping the doorframe to steady himself. "When did the English start drinking like that?" he asked Lancelot. "They drink like they don't want to live!"

Lancelot chuckled. "Seriously, Gwaine, I thought you were--" he stopped talking and blushed just in time, as both men simultaneously remembered that Cadi (or Mari?) had been a fling of Lance's once when he was trying to get over Gwen. Which was a bit awkward, if you subscribed to that six-degrees-of-separation nonsense, but Gwaine grinned:

"Snorers, the pair of 'em. I don't even remember getting here." Gwaine cast about for a clean shirt with little success. "Everyone else get in okay?"

Lancelot nodded. "You were last one in." Now he paused, and his face twitched, as if he struggled with something he didn't quite want to say.

"What is it, Lance?"

"Oh. Um. Nothing. Except, you didn't notice anything...strange last night, did you?"

"I was practically unconscious, Lance--"

"Okay, okay, sorry, forget I said anything," Lance said, and moved off.

Gwaine stared at the doorframe, waited for it to stop moving, but it never did. He had to find Gaius, or Merlin. His normal hangover cure just wasn't going to cut it right now. He wasn't even sure he could make it right now without poisoning himself--you know, even more. Maybe Merlin could magically remove a hangover. He certainly needed it after that seven-pint-binge--had he really had two of them? Or did he give that one to Merlin?

Merlin?

Gwaine straightened, suddenly sobered with worry (though the headache remained). Surely he hadn't tried to get Merlin to drink that horn! He couldn't weigh more than a baby bird--that thing would have killed him! Jesus Christ--Gwaine thought, for the scenario was still quite fuzzy--what if I made him drink it? Gwaine thought hard, but he didn't really remember seeing Merlin after offering him the Auroch's horn. He didn't remember much of anything after that, to be fair.

Gwaine staggered toward the Physician's quarters with all the grace of a seasick mariner, but one with a very urgent mission: to make sure he hadn't killed his best friend!

Gwaine rushed into the stable after not finding Merlin at the Physician's quarters, looking breathless, anxious, and also a little bit green. When he spotted Merlin he made a beeline for him.

"Merlin!" he cried, sounding greatly relieved. When he heard his name, Merlin looked up and leaned on the rake he'd been using, raising his eyebrows at Gwaine.

"Uh, yes?" he said, and then blinked, "Wait, did you just get up?" He'd been awake since just after dawn, of course. Then again, he'd only had the one pint of beer last night, not... however many Gwaine had had. The knight rushed at Merlin and clapped him hard on the shoulder, grinning.

"Jesus Christ, Merlin, am I glad to see you up and about! You gave me a scare!" he exclaimed. Merlin just laughed in surprise and stumbled a little under the force of the friendly shoulder-clapping.

“What? Why?” he asked, giving up leaning on the rake to catch his balance. Gwaine shrugged.

"I don't remember a thing about last night!" he admitted, and laughed, as if this was hilarious.

"You don't remember anything? I'm sure the twins won't appreciate that," Merlin said, and then dodged without even stopping to see if Gwaine planned on trying to smack him upside the head for the comment. Gwaine blinked in confusion at that, wondering why Merlin was ducking, but didn’t comment. Or smack him upside the head.

"Oh, well, yeah. I remember the twins. And, ah," he puffed himself up obnoxiously, "I don't need to tell you that they'll be remembering Sir Gwaine! Hur hur hur!" Gwaine ducked out for a few moments, but returned shortly with two full buckets of water and an apple stuck in his mouth. He set the buckets down and took the apple out of his mouth. With his mouth still full, he continued: "And I remember that seven-pinter, by God!"

"You tried to get me to drink that. Leon put a stop to it," Merlin remarked. He frowned at that- and the subsequent conversation, but said nothing else. Instead, he set the rake aside and gestured carelessly at one of the buckets to levitate it and dump it in the trough before a curious horse nose could knock it over. His eyes went gold for a moment, but the bucket didn't even twitch. He glanced at Gwaine to see if he'd noticed, because... quite frankly, it was a bit bewildering and embarrassing to do magic and it not work. He tried again. Nothing. Instead of picking up the bucket, Merlin just stood there and glared at it.

Gwaine watched Merlin carefully. Unless he was still drunk--which he was pretty sure he wasn't--or was seeing things, Merlin looked distant for a minute, and sad. Then, and Gwaine only noticed because he was watching him closely, his eyes went gold. Gwaine jumped, looked around, but no one else was about, and...

Nothing happened. Which was odd. "You all right, Merlin?" Gwaine decided sufficed for both questions he wanted to ask.

Merlin hesitated for a minute before answering Gwaine. He wasn’t up for starting another row about honesty. So he answered honestly, to a point. Of course, he left Leon and Galahad and all that out of it.

"Remember when we were looking for that spell? I tried to cast the one you found, but it didn't work," he said, and went to lift the water bucket. He'd neglected, however, to realize that since Gwaine had filled it, he'd filled it almost to the brim, which was much heavier than what Merlin could carry. They were big buckets...

"Or I thought it didn't. Then I couldn't put out a candle, and I thought it was because I was tired. But look," he said, and gestured a little more emphatically at the bucket, which predictably didn't do a thing. "It's like my magic isn't working," he explained a little plaintively.

Gwaine bridled, and scratched the back of his head. "Well, to be fair, I don't know what you're like really when your magic is working so..." But he bit back the 'I can't help you on that one, mate.' He'd find a way to help, even if it was being someone to talk to. "You think you cursed yourself, or something? Can that even happen?"

Merlin stopped and thought for a moment. "I don't think so. Gaius would know, though..." he trailed off. "I don't feel cursed," he added with a shrug, but he guessed he couldn't rule it out. What if he had cursed himself on accident? Finally, he was forced to admit it. "I don't know. But I've never not been able to do magic," he said, sounding more than a little frustrated, and only adding to his frustration by trying to lift the bucket again and sloshing the water out onto his boots. Wonderful. Who didn't love wearing soggy shoes? And he couldn’t just wave them dry like he might usually do.

"Okay, okay, easy," Gwaine said, diving for the buckets. "I'm sure we'll figure it out." He took the buckets in turn and dumped the water into the trough where the horses waited eagerly, before Merlin could get more irritated. "Just don't--I don't know if you can over-strain yourself as far as magic is concerned, but if anyone was going to figure out how to pull a magic-muscle or something, it'd be you, so just--" he patted Merlin gently on both arms, giving up on what he wanted Merlin to do. "Maybe it's not you, anyway. Could be something else." He shrugged. “Anyway, I better let Leon know,” he said. Merlin gave him a look that implied he had something witty to say, but wasn’t going to say it.

“Not, you know, any of this,” Gwaine waved his hand at the buckets, “But I mean, remember when we...well, let's say he just gets fussy when I don't let him know what's on. I'll make up something. Just so he can keep an eye out. As will I." With that, he grinned like a fool, chucked his apple core off the back wall of the stable and into a bucket, and ducked outside, already half-running.

Gwaine was beginning to suspect that he was still drunk, as he proceeded, half-running, back to the castle to hunt for Leon. Stairs moved underneath him, the floor tilted, and walls walked right out in front of him. At least, he hoped he was still drunk, because that would make a whole lot more sense than...

Someone...tilting the room on him?

And as for Merlin's magic not working, that definitely meant something was wrong, though he naturally didn't want Merlin to know he was worried. And he really didn't want Leon to know!

But, still, he ought to be warned.

Which didn't mean Gwaine didn't feel justified making a detour from the stables to Leon's chambers by way of the kitchens, because he desperately needed to sober up.

The kitchens were rather empty of people, quite luckily. He flirted his way past a girl sweeping at the door, snuck his way past another baking bread, and made his way to the cupboards in the back. The pre-breakfast apple made him crave cheese, and of course he would require more apples to go with. He cursed himself that he hadn't brought his cloak or was wearing much more than a loose shirt and trousers, and was just puzzling how he was going to smuggle the goods out short of stuffing the apples in his shirt and going as a woman when--

The cupboard moved.

Gwaine experienced a moment of terrifying deja-vu--remembering what he had thought was a drunken dream of his own wardrobe growling at him hungrily--as the giant wall cupboard opened its doors, growled, and moved.

Okay, I'm not that drunk! was all he had time to think before the wardrobe leapt upon him, and with one devouring bite, snapped him up and locked him inside.

Leon made his way across the courtyard, hoping to get training started a few minutes early today. He had to get ready for the dinner with Elaine tonight. Granted, dinner wasn’t for another eight or nine hours, but he didn’t exactly know how long getting ready took for something like this. He could do with a bath, and his beard needed trimming, the menu needed to be prepared…

A quick head count told him that everyone who needed to be present at training was, (except for Gwaine) but they were just sitting around chatting. It was then that Leon noticed that the sword boxes hadn’t been brought out. He cast around the courtyard for Merlin, and caught a flash of blue as Merlin moved about in the stables. Leon jogged over.

“Merlin,” he said, hoping to gloss over last night’s little conversation completely, “do you think you could get the training kit out, please? Only I was hoping to start a bit early today.”

Merlin looked up. “Oh—sorry! Gwaine came in and distracted me and—I’ll just go get it now, it’ll be ready in a minute.”

“I’ll save you a trip,” Leon said, knowing it would be more efficient if they both carried the training equipment out, and followed Merlin to one of the sheds where the practice swords and shields were kept.

“Did Gwaine find you?”

Leon shook his head. “He’s not even on the field yet. Probably still reeling from that seven-pinter.”

“No, I mean, he said he was looking for you. He, er—said he had to talk to you about something.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sure he’ll be down—“

Leon stopped when he saw a kitchen maid running across the courtyard at breakneck speeds towards them. She didn’t appear to want to stop any time soon, and ran full-on into Merlin, who just managed to catch her despite the fact that she knocked the breath out of him.

“Oh! Sorry!” the kitchen maid said, obviously flustered.

“No problem,” Merlin gasped, clutching his solar plexus.

“What is it?” Leon demanded.

“Oh, Sir Leon,” the kitchen maid stammered, “I didn’t know who else to turn to…”

“What’s happened?”

“Only Sir Gwaine—you do know how Sir Gwaine likes to get into the kitchens, sir—he sneaked in this morning when he thought I wasn’t looking, and, well, he’s gone and gotten himself locked in the bread cupboard!”

Merlin gave a sort of cough, which Leon presumed was his attempt at breathless laughter. Leon looked at the kitchen maid in despair. “What??”

“We did try to get it open, sir, but it won’t budge!”

“Yeah, I bet he’s *holding* it shut,” Leon growled. He glanced at Merlin, who was now rolling on the grass laughing his head off. “I’d better go deal with this—do you think you can manage?”

“Hahaha—oh yeah, sure—hahaha!....”

"I'm really rather worried," the kitchen maid continued as Leon and she made their way back toward the kitchens, "That cupboard doesn't even have a lock! There's some odd things been going on in this castle..."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Leon offered, over Merlin's distant laughter.

This was mad. Why the hell--how the hell--had the cupboard just come to life like that? Had he not been that drunk when his wardrobe moved at him night before last? Did this have anything to do with why Merlin's magic didn't work? What's next, the gargoyles on the awnings come to life and eat people?

This was annoying. All he wanted was a bit of cheese, and now he was stuck in this small, dark cupboard. He was probably sitting on a loaf of bread, which was a shame. He'd still eat it, anyway.

This was ridiculous! He slammed his fist--again--against the door, but it didn't budge. He was a Knight of Camelot, not the bloody tin soldier! He couldn't believe he let it catch him, much less keep him! This was an insult to his...to loads of things!

This was terrifying.

Oh, not that he'd ever admit it, of course. Gwaine didn't go in much for honor or glory, but he did have pride, which was different. It wasn't the dark that was the problem, or even, really, the smallness of the space. Um, okay, maybe it was a bit of that. It was the being stuck, being trapped, that--

Well, he didn't like it, anyway.

He pounded against the door, sitting back to strike it with both feet, gaining nothing but sore knees. He didn't call for help, exactly, oh no, not Sir Gwaine, but he was sure his struggles--the banging and the pounding and the cursing--could be heard for miles.

It took him a moment, then, to realize that someone on the outside was speaking to him.

"All right, Gwaine, stop messing about!"

"Leon!" Gwaine leapt up, or, you know, would have, if he wasn't being squished. The air smelled funny in here. "Leon, the bloody stupid thing's trapped me in here!"

"Gwaine, this isn't funny--"

"You bet it's not! I can't get out!" He hoped Leon missed his voice breaking. It was noticeably stuffy here, now, and he wasn't sure breathing in did anything for him.

"Well, how did you get in?"

"The bloody thing ate me, Leon!" Gwaine bellowed, exasperated, banging against the door again. "It just--it moved, and it just snapped me up!"

There was no response from outside.

"I ain't jokin', mate!" Gwaine insisted, desperate not to sound desperate. Even if he was getting ready to start rocking back and forth until the cupboard tipped over.

"Leon, this isn't funny, you great oaf, I'm serious!"

Leon covered his mouth as a laugh escaped his lips. This sort of thing never happened—and to be happening to Gwaine of all people!—it was just too perfect!

“Of course, of course—Gwaine, not to worry, we’ll, er, think of something.” He silently gestured to one of the kitchen maids to get a crowbar.

“Isn’t there a bloody key or something?” Gwaine said. He sounded almost manic! Leon could have some fun with this.

“Oh, there’s no key to this door,” Leon said, tapping on it. “I think it must be stuck or something.” He glanced around the edge of the door, surprised to find that nothing was jammed in the door. That was certainly a little odd—he’d gotten into this cupboard dozens of times, and the doors couldn’t stick unless something was jammed in it. Maybe it was jammed from the inside somehow…
Gwaine kicked at the door again. “Well, break the door down!”

“Gwaine!” Leon said, in his reprimanding voice, “This is cupboard is made of hand-carved mahogany!”

“Leon--!”

“Oh, no, I’m afraid we may have to leave you in there for some time, until we fetch the carpenter to take all apart. Look on the bright side—you’ll miss training!”

Leon was having so much fun with keeping Gwaine at the disadvantage like this, and he did not notice Gwaine’s strikes against the inside of the cupboard had stopped. Now it was quiet. Oh, no—he hoped he hadn’t made him mad…

He sighed. “I’m only joking, son—we’re getting the crowbar now.”

No answer.

He knocked on the cupboard, getting nervous, now. “Gwaine?”

Still no answer.

“Gwaine?!” The kitchen maid rounded the corner with a crowbar, and Leon took it quickly and fumbled desperately to get it in the door. It was a tight seam, and the shaft snapped back in his hands without catching. He tried again, his hands shaking. Oh God, what if he’d been suffocating this whole time—while he was *playing around*….?

“Come on!” he snarled, and, fed up with trying to get in by hand, forced the end of the crowbar into the seam with a kick, and hauled backward. With a sharp crack the door popped out. Leon let out a relieved sigh. “Gwa—ah!”

As he knelt to haul Gwaine out, Gwaine jumped out himself, and gripped Leon like a vice. Leon stiffened, thinking for a second that Gwaine was going to tackle him for teasing him. But Gwaine just hung on, his arms tight around Leon’s ribcage in...a...hug?... Leon could feel Gwaine's heart beating at an abnormally high rate.

“You alright?”

“Fine,” Gwaine lied from somewhere around his armpit.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Leon tried to shift, but Gwaine’s grip didn’t loosen. “You want to let go, now?”

“Nnnnope!”

“O...kay.” After Gwaine's breathing had steadied out somewhat, Leon gently managed to guide Gwaine off of him.

“All right?”

With one last apprehensive glance at the wardrobe Gwaine cleared his throat and drew himself up, though he folded his arms across his chest and kept them there. "Right. Fine," he said, shaking his head as if to clear it, "just--"

“--Could happen to anyone. It's fine.” Leon smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, we’d better get out to the field.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, there,” Gwaine said, grabbing onto Leon's cloak as he turned away. “Aren't you at all fussed about what just happened? I mean, there’s something odd going on here! You saw it!”

“What do you mean?”

“That cupboard bloody attacked me!” Leon must have accidentally been giving him a look, because he added, “Hey--I was right about the goblins, remember?”

Leon sighed. “Fine. What’s so odd?”

“The castle, mate--haven’t you noticed it? Things coming to life, like that--“ he glanced at the cupboard again and stepped further from it, “--that thing. Merlin’s noticed it, too. Something odd with the castle.”

“Merlin? Why didn’t he say anything?”

“Well, who would believe it?”

Leon swallowed, and thought for a moment. “Why don’t you go talk to Gaius--maybe he has some idea of what it is. I’ll go let the knights know that they should get started with training.”

Gaius flipped through a few old tomes while Gwaine paced anxiously around the physician's quarters. He felt much better after a change of clothes and a meal--Gaius was better than a mother hen at these things, and had filled him with tea and porridge, and had given him some of Merlin's things to change into, in addition to bandaging up his knuckles where he'd pounded them bloody trying to escape the cupboard--and though Gwaine was still agitated, he felt much better here.

"Hiya, Merlin!" he beamed as Merlin trudged in, looking a little disheveled from horse-mucking.

"So they got you out, then," Merlin chuckled, but just as Gwaine's smile transformed into a frown, he cried out, "Hey! That's my favorite shirt!"

"Ahh, here we are," Gaius said, pointing to a page in a book. "Apparently there are some kinds of magic so powerful they can effect an entire building or citadel."

Gwaine and Merlin gathered around. "Are we even sure it's just Camelot?" Gwaine asked. "I mean, if could be to our borders, or it could be the whole land?"

"Unlikely," Gaius said. "I have a feeling we'd have more problems than just..." a smile spread across Gaius' face, and Merlin followed suit.

"Look. I told you to bloody forget about it: it's not funny!"

Gaius wiped the grin off his face quicker than Merlin, so Gwaine gave him a shove, suddenly less concerned that he was apparently wearing Merlin's favorite shirt.

"Well, we can't exactly forget about it, Gwaine," Gaius said. "It's evidence as to what's gone wrong with the castle. I myself have had a deuce of a time finding anything in my apothecary, though I thought it just might be Merlin not cleaning up after himself."

"Hey!" Merlin protested, but Gaius continued over him.

"You say your bedroom wardrobe moved as well?"

Gwaine frowned. "Yeah."

"Perhaps it's limited to wardrobes?" Merlin wondered.

"Maybe I'm cursed!" Gwaine moaned, still feeling panicked from being locked in the cupboard. "Your magic didn't work around me!"

"No, the first time I couldn't get the candles to go out I was alone."

"Okay, well, look, here's an idea," Gwaine said irritably, "why don't we skip this bit and look ahead to what might be causing it and how to stop it?"

“Merlin! What are you-“ Gaius exclaimed when Merlin so non-chalantly mentioned that his magic not working didn’t seem tied to whether Gwaine was around or not. Both Merlin and Gwaine turned their heads to look at the Physician, momentarily confused. Then Merlin figured out why Gaius was spluttering and looking so concerned, and grinned. It wasn’t often you could catch Gaius so completely off guard as to startle that bewildered expression out of him.

“Oh, right. Gwaine knows I can do magic, now. I didn’t tell him, he figured it out,” Merlin said. Gaius still looked a little flabbergasted, so Merlin added reassuringly, “Don’t worry, he’s not going to tell anyone.”

“He said if I did he’d turn me into a frog,” Gwaine added helpfully.

“I did not! I was only kidding,” Merlin answered, sounding a little aggrieved. Gwaine, of course, knew this, but still… he had to get Merlin back for the cupboard remarks somehow. The knight opened his mouth to reply, but Gaius cleared his throat and he fell silent instead, looking over with a slight smile still on his face.

“No, I don’t imagine he would. You wouldn’t have told him otherwise,” Gaius said finally to Merlin, still watching the both of them. Gwaine did his best to look honest- which, okay, wasn’t all that terribly hard, he had a very good honest face that he could produce at a moments’ notice. And Merlin looked uncertain, as if he were fully expecting a lecture for some reason or another.

“So! What causes a spell like this? And how do we stop it? I’d rather not be eaten by any more cupboards,” Gwaine said after a moment.

“Eaten by a cupboard…” Merlin muttered under his breath, and then laughed, again. Gwaine was never, ever going to live this down. Ever. But Gwaine looked like he was about ready to throw a boot at him, so he stopped sniggering.

“A spell could cause this. Or an enchantment,” Gaius said. But he couldn’t be more specific, since they didn’t know what exactly was going on.

“Could I have caused it?” Merlin asked hesitantly. The Physician looked up from contemplating one of the books they’d scattered around and raised both eyebrows at him.

“Have you been casting spells to awake castles?” Gaius asked mildly.

“Not exactly,” Merlin answered, and Gaius thought about asking him what spells, exactly, he’d been casting in his free time. But he didn’t, and instead shook his head.

“No. Generally, this sort of spell requires some intent by the caster. If you had cast it on accident, you would know. Have you ever accidentally cast anything?” he asked when Merlin didn’t look entirely convinced. But finally, Merlin shook his head. No, he’d certainly never cast something by accident.

“Great! So it’s not Merlin. How do we find out what it is?” Gwaine broke in.

“We need more information,” he said, and Merlin slumped a little, making a face. Gwaine looked confused, until Gaius grabbed two huge books and handed one to Merlin, who took it and sat at the table they usually used for breakfast, shoving dishes he hadn’t cleaned out of the way. The other he handed to Gwaine, who wrinkled his nose at the book before realizing that wouldn’t make it burn to cinders, before going to sit across from Merlin with a very dramatic sigh.

Leon took the long hall to the courtyard, glancing through some of the very creative chirographs George shoved into his hands on his way out of the kitchens, while his mind clicked through a few possible explanations for the odd occurrences around the castle. More goblins, perhaps? Maybe someone from the town brought some piece of magic to Camelot without knowing what it was.

George’s chirography was painstakingly done, like little parchment snowflakes you make when you’re a kid. Except that these actually looked like snowflakes.

Leon was so used to Camelot’s halls that he didn’t look up as he put a hand out to open the door at the end of the hall, and stumbled forward awkwardly when his hand hit nothing. He looked up, and found that he was only half-way down the hall. He must have been more distracted than he thought.

As he started walking again, he started to feel a tight knot forming in his stomach. The door, for some reason, wasn’t getting any closer. He glanced behind him, and the door he entered through seemed even farther away. There was no one else in the hallway with him.

“Oh no.”

He walked a little faster, then a little faster still. The door remained quite far away. It was—stretching…. The effect it had on Leon’s sense of perspective made him dizzy for a second, and he stopped until the vertigo subsided. He went to a nearby window and looked out, but it was extremely dirty and he could see nothing out of it.

What the hell is going on? He thought, turning back to the hall, and his gaze fell on a door which he knew only led to a storage closet. He glanced down the hall again then cautiously approached the door. As he touched the handle he heard something move beyond the door, something like a scrape or a snarl. He drew his sword and, pausing for a moment with his back to the wall beside the door, threw the door open and leapt inside.

His vision was obscured by a bright light, and when his eyes adjusted he found himself not in a storage closet, but in an empty octagonal room. He sheathed his sword and looked around, but there was not much to see. It was bright—far too bright, lit from what appeared to be a skylight blaring sunlight down upon him. Besides that, music from some unknown source was reverberating around the room, making his head spin.

He turned and, finding that the door had closed behind him, opened it to get back into the hallway.

But it wasn’t the hallway anymore—at least, not the same hallway. It was dark and narrow. He squeezed through it quickly.

There was another door at the end of the hall, and when he opened it he found himself back in the room with the bright light and loud music.

The knot in his stomach had become a festering tangle. He was starting to know what Gwaine felt like.

“Calm down,” he said out loud, and leaned against the door frame. But it wasn’t quite where he expected. He stumbled back to find—the same ruddy hallway he started in!

He glanced at the room of light, which was still behind him, then at the hallway. The music rose in pitch, building to climax.

He made a mad dash for the door, running headlong with all the speed he could muster. But every step seemed to only take the door farther away into the distance. He ran what felt like a hundred yards flat out, wall-hangings rustling as he rushed past but ever repeating.

He collapsed outside another identical door to the one he had entered before, heaving. The door seemed to be watching him silently. Leon glared at it, then, with less confidence, opened the door and peeked inside. Light and music came blaring out. He shut the door gently. He could have sworn the door was smiling at him.

He jumped up and smashed the window on the other side of the hall with the hilt of his sword. It fragmented, but didn’t break—and Leon actually let out a yelp when the glass fragmented into a mirror. He covered his eyes, and muttered, “Ok, ok, ok….think.”

This was some serious magic. Very serious. It was tying Camelot in knots behind his back! Or—just when he wasn’t looking?—He quickly took his hands off his eyes and tried not to blink. But he couldn’t look everywhere at once.

Or could he?

He grabbed a fragment of mirror-glass from the window, and, holding it in front of his face, angled it so that he could see over his shoulder at the hallway behind him. Careful not to take his eye off the mirror, He grinned at the door, then reached out and opened it.

“Leon? What are you doing?”

In the second that he glanced away from the mirror to see Gaius, Gwaine and Merlin standing in Gaius’s apothecary, the mirror’s image changed to reveal the ordinary hallway that led to Gaius’s quarters. He put the piece of mirror in his pocket, and, without risking a glance back, shut the door, and leaned on it.

“You know, I think there’s something odd going on with the castle.”

Merlin, Gwaine, and Gaius stared at Leon as he stood leaning against the door like an exhausted scarecrow. He looked inordinately relieved to have found himself in the apothecary, which might have explained why he’d just said there was something wrong with the castle. Gwaine was the first to react, leaning against the table and then sitting non-chalantly on the book he’d been reading.

“I told you the cupboard ate me! And you didn’t believe me,” he said with mock injury. Next to him, Merlin glanced back at the books, realized why Gwaine was sitting on his, and leaned almost too casually so that most of his was blocked from Leon’s view. Gaius went and started clattering around with a kettle and some mismatched cups, apparently making more tea. This seemed like a very emergency-tea sort of afternoon.

“Well… I’m still not sure about that,” Leon said in response to Gwaine, and Gwaine realized he was actually trying to be funny. Leon was so often serious that the other knights sometimes didn’t always recognize his sense of humor. Gwaine, though, just laughed a very short laugh.

“Right! So why did you walk in here backwards, holding a mirror?” he asked. Leon looked embarrassed.

“I… got lost in the hall. Upstairs,” he asked. This made Gwaine laugh again, this time in disbelief. Leon had been wandering these halls for many years, and him getting lost was as ridiculous as Gwaine getting eaten by a cupboard in the kitchen.

“No, I did! It kept getting longer, and all the rooms were playing music. Are you sitting on one of Gaius’ books?” Leon added in protest.

“What? No, of course not,” Gwaine said.

“Gwaine, I can see the book right there. You are sitting on it,” Leon stated, stepping closer as if he’d like to see why Gwaine was sitting on a book. Gwaine looked down to his side at said book, and shrugged one shoulder.

“Oh, well, yes. I am,” he admitted, and didn’t move.

“Well, what is it? Gaius isn’t going to be very happy with you,” Leon said, squinting as he tried to read what of the book he could see. Gwaine frowned and crossed his arms across his chest, and hopped off the table. Instead, he leaned back against it, one ankle crossed over the other. This blocked the book even more effectively.

“I don’t know. It’s a boring medical book,” he said.

“Just because it doesn’t have pictures doesn’t mean it’s boring, Gwaine,” Leon jested, and Gwaine opened his mouth to respond, but before the two could lapse into an argument, Gaius came over with the hot kettle and four cups.

“Gwaine, are you sitting on a book?” he asked the knight innocently. Gwaine jumped away from the table, because when Gaius or Geoff asked you a deceptively simple question about what you were doing to a book, you bloody well stopped doing it, or anything like it. Under the guise of clearing the table off for tea, Gaius gathered the books into a pile along with several interesting papers and dumped them well out of the way in Merlin’s room. There wasn’t room, after all, on the shelves and tables in the room, and it made sense. Also, Leon was less likely to pursue the books if they were out of sight and out of mind.

While Gaius went about moving the books, the two knights and one manservant sat around the table with much clattering and nearly-breaking of mugs and kettle, but eventually managed to get tea poured.

“Have either of you noticed anything odd?” Leon asked Gaius and Merlin when the physician had returned and taken a seat just across from him.

“Several of my ingredients and medicines have gone missing, and Merlin insists it isn’t his fault… and since they are really nowhere to be found, I believe he is right, this time,” Gaius answered, while Merlin scowled. Why was it always his fault when things went missing?

“And the candle in my room wouldn’t go out last night,” Merlin added.

“I could be an object that brought it into the castle, or an accidental spell. I don’t think it’s the work of a real wizard, it’s far too general,” Gaius said. Merlin, Leon, and Gwaine looked at each other. Leon and Merlin looked at Gwaine in unison.

“What? I haven’t done anything!” he said, leaning back from the table and gesturing so wildly that he almost threw tea all over Leon. Merlin gave Gwaine’s borrowed clothing a pointed look. He liked that purple shirt. He especially liked it in a state free of tea stains.

“Alright, if Gwaine hasn’t done anything…” Merlin said dryly, and grinned unrepentantly at his friend’s glare.

“Has anything been brought into the castle recently?” Gaius asked. Well, of course things had been brought in. But would someone seriously have enchanted a garden vegetable? Merlin gave this a moment’s thought. Yes, he could just imagine a potato coming to life and wreaking havoc. But no, he didn’t think so.

“Well, there’s the table,” Leon said thoughtfully, and everyone looked at him.

“Oh, no,” Merlin said, a look of dread growing on his face. Gwaine, however, thought this was fantastic.

“Great! So we get the table out of the castle, and everything is fixed. Right?” he said, and swallowed the rest of his very hot tea in one gulp. Merlin blinked, and looked at his own cup. If he’d done that, he’d have spit it out all over whoever was across from him, and his purple shirt that Gwaine was wearing would have been ruined.

“The round table? Yes, that would make sense. It is certainly large enough to support such a spell,” Gaius said thoughtfully. Merlin sighed, and sipped his tea carefully until it was gone, by which time Leon and Gwaine had found a piece of paper to draw how best to get the wretched table out of the castle. As they left the apothecary to go take care of the table, he remembered something that would at least pass the time. Also, it might drive Gwaine crazy, and that couldn’t be anything but amusing.

“I have another riddle, Sir Leon!” he said. Gwaine rolled his eyes and sighed. Leon looked over and down at the shorter young man.

“Let’s hear it, then,” he said eagerly.

“When you see me, you instantly recognize me. I will turn everything around, but remain absolutely still. I tell you truth that can hurt, but if you try to kill me I just multiply.”

"Em...." Leon trailed off as he sized up the table. "I'll have to get back to you about that one when we're finished, I think."

Merlin looked the table up and down. "Is it just me, or does it look heavier than before?"

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this, Gwaine."

"I can."

"Shut up, Merlin."

"Yeah, shut up, Merlin, and push."

"Waitwaitwaitwait!" Leon gripped the table hard, which was on its side, being rolled carefully through the castle until it stood, now, in the doorway at the top of the back stairs. This way led down to the training ground, a nice flat area which Gwaine thought would be easiest to roll the table across, easy as rolling a coin across a table. But Leon looked at the stairs apprehensively. "Maybe we should just sort of carry it down, rather than--"

"Oh, you've got to be joking!" Gwaine whined. "Look, there aren't even enough stairs to pick up the speed to damage anything. The only thing that'll be hellish is getting it up again once it falls over. On three now."

Merlin wasn't looking like he was going to be able hold up his end for much longer anyway, so Leon's shoulders sagged and he nodded.

"Right. Three!" Gwaine said, and let go. The other two released their holds.

The table rolled, just as it ought, clanked down the stairs, but stayed upright. It didn't even chip the last stair, which Gwaine secretly had been a bit concerned about.

The table rolled, out to the grass, and it kept rolling. It crashed through a tent, and Leon's head whipped around to glare at Gwaine, as if this was his fault. "Oh, don't get your tunic in a twist, darling," he replied, "it'll stop in a minute, and that tent wasn't doing anything, I'll even put it back up, if you're going to fuss."

The table rolled as he talked. Curiously, it didn't teeter, or slow. In fact, it seemed to be...

"I, ahm, I think it's picking up speed," Merlin pointed out.

"No, no," Gwaine insisted. "Just give it a minute, it'll stop."

The table rolled on. It was almost to the edge of the training grounds now. Beyond that was the lower town.

"When?"

The table rolled.

"Any minute now."

The table rolled...

The table had not stopped rolling.

Leon, who was the fastest of the three of them, ran after it hollering for people to move out of the way, while Gwaine and Merlin ran after him. For the second time in as many days, an odd sort of train made its way through the lower town. Thankfully, this time it did not end in a pub, since the great stone table probably would have crashed right through the Rising Sun’s front door. The owner was tolerant, but he would not have appreciated the new furniture.

“It should have stopped by now, shouldn’t it?” Merlin asked, and nearly tripped over a rake that someone had dropped in their hurry to get out of the way of the rolling table. Gwaine, who at least had the good sense to look worried, no matter if he was cackling with childish glee on the inside, shrugged.

“Leon seems to think so,” he replied, watching the tall knight thunder on behind the table. It rolled into a broad, open plaza and they saw a shower of vegetable matter and wood as it crashed through what had apparently been a vegetable stand. Gwaine jumped over the wreckage and Merlin paused to apologize, but the stand owner seemed only to want to wring the collective necks of the three following the table. He went after Gwaine in a hurry, the man’s angry cursing following him.

“Goodness, Merlin, making friends?” Gwaine asked when he caught up, having stopped a good distance down the road to wait for him, and Merlin just shook his head. They were almost out of the lower town, and they saw Leon waiting for them up ahead. He glared at Gwaine as they caught up, and then pointed down the road.

“Does that table look like it has stopped rolling?” he asked angrily.

“No,” Gwaine replied, looking after the table. There was no catching it now. It was almost to the gate, having taken out another cart on its way. The owner was starting up the street for them, shouting and waving her hands.

“Whoops. I think I’ll go, uh… see to that table,” Gwaine said, and tried to dodge around Leon, hoping to avoid the wrath of the large woman who could be heard a full half-block away.

“Oh no, this was your idea. You can apologize this time,” Leon said, reaching out and neatly grabbing the back of Gwaine’s shirt, spinning him back around right into the path of the oncoming one-woman war party. Merlin was about to sneak off back up the road to the castle, wanting no part of this fireworks show, but Leon saw him at it.

“Merlin,” he called out just as Merlin thought he’d made good on his escape. He turned and tried to look like he hadn’t been beating a hasty retreat.

“I was… er… it hit a vegetable stand up there. I thought I might… see if they needed help?” he said. Leon gave him one of those looks that implied he’d heard better excuses from George, who everyone knew wouldn’t know a good excuse if it walked up and chewed his leg off, and Merlin returned.

“We should go check on the table,” Leon said, and Gwaine looked at him hopefully.

“Not you, you’re going to stay here and help-“

“YOUR TABLE JUST RAN OVER MY CART!” the angry woman shouted as she finally reached them, and Leon practically threw Gwaine at her. Gwaine stuttered and stumbled back a few feet.

“At least she doesn’t have a rolling pin,” Merlin couldn’t resist commenting under his breath before he jogged off after Leon, who’d already started striding down the street toward the castle walls. Hopefully the table had found the grass more of a challenge than cobblestone roads, and would not be making mutton of the fat, slow sheep that grazed outside the castle walls.

As a consequence of the runaway table, Leon lost track of time, what with all the apologizing to irate merchants, getting the pigs back into their pens, and picking up the debris from more than one cart. When he managed to check the time it was almost sundown, and he all but ran through the marketplace to grab some new clothes he thought were suitable, wash up (no time to wash his hair, but it wasn’t horribly manky yet) and get ready.

Well, he did have a few minutes to spare….

He found Gaius’s apothecary easily enough this time, and thanked God that getting rid of the table had done the trick. It was now sitting placidly by the town gates. But when he stepped inside he did not find Gaius. Merlin was sitting at the table eating soup.

“Oh. Sorry. Do you know where Gaius is?”

“He’s taking a bath.” Merlin cocked his head. “What are you holding?”

“Er—“ Leon coughed, wrapping the bundle of new clothes up in his arms. He wasn’t really sure if this was the sort of thing you could ask…but Merlin was his friend, after all, and he trusted his judgment…. “Do you know, um, what—what kids are wearing these days?”

Merlin laughed at that, until he realized Leon was actually completely serious, at which point he tried to cover the laugh with a cough. Merlin probably knew what people wore—he was out and about enough to have noticed things here and there that seemed to be popular. And he'd certainly washed enough clothes to know what Some People thought were fashionable. Also, the slightly pleading look Leon was sure he was giving without meaning to probably made Merlin take pity on him.

"Um... I might? I can try to help.” He pointed to a screen in the corner that Leon was eyeing. “Is this for that dinner Gwaine got you to agree to?" he asked.

"--Yeah," Leon said, relieved to find that Merlin didn't laugh too hard at him. He dove behind the screen and changed quickly. "I was going to ask Gaius--I don't wear plain clothes very often, so maybe you can just let me know what you think...ladies like to see that you try, don't they?" He came out wearing one of the first outfits he picked out—it stood out to him because it was a very bright yellow. It was a lot of yellow. But yellow was a good, color, wasn't it? "Now, tell me honestly--is this too flash?"

Merlin blinked, and then blinked again, because the effect of the yellow and maroon together was making his eyes do funny things. He tactfully did not ask Leon if he was planning on joining one of the traveling minstrel shows. "It's very yellow. Maybe something less bright?" he said instead.

Leon looked down, trying not to get blinded himself. "You're right. Something darker!" He tried this next, feeling quite suave and sexy in the next outfit. He pulled the hood up and struck a pose. "How about this? Sort of mysterious, eh?"

Merlin looked at Leon for a moment, wondering where he had acquired the clothing of a woodsman. Or perhaps an outlaw. Maybe both, now that he thought about it. And what was with the hood? "The color isn't bad, but I'm not sure about the hood..." he said.

"Really? I thought it was sort of..." Merlin glared at him. "Alright, fine." He tried this next, thinking the bright red tights really accented his legs.

Merlin actually jumped back. “Whoa!”

“What?”

Merlin recovered, unable to take his eyes off the scarlet fabric. "Did you find anything that doesn't have hose? I haven't seen anyone wearing those. Except maybe George, at feasts," he said, "Sorry."

Leon blinked. "What, no?"

"Definitely not. No hose."

Leon pursed his lips. “Well. At least I can return it.” He then snorted like an indignant child and sulked off to change. It was the last outfit. "Now, I know you can't object to this. I've seen Gwaine wear this exact thing."

This time, Merlin snorted- but not in indignance, in amusement. "But, Leon, Gwaine doesn't care what he wears. That just looks like you couldn't be bothered," he said. “Still, at least there’s no hose. Maybe you could cobble something together out of it all?” He picked up the clothes Leon had discarded, which were heaped on the table. Leon looked over his shoulder as he considered them. It didn't look terribly promising.

"Maybe we should ask Galehaut….”

“—Yeah, maybe you’re right…”

Galehaut turned out to be surprisingly helpful. He had an extensive wardrobe he was only too willing to share, and with a combination of his clothes and the ones that Leon had bought, they came up with the outfit that Leon now stood in front of the mirror wearing. It started with his dress boots, which were still a little scuffed from the Friday Knights but still cleaner than his work boots. He rubbed the toe of one feverishly on the back of his calf in a vain attempt to get it clean. He was wearing Galehaut’s trousers, which were almost as tight as hose and were a bit short, but that didn’t matter because they were tucked into the boots. Then it was the loose white shirt he had bought to go under the yellow jacket, but instead of the jacket he wore a dark green tunic, another addition from Galehaut. It hung to somewhere just below his…

“It’s too short,” he said, tugging the edge of the tunic down as he continued to try to clean his boots.

“Goodness me, you’re shy!” Galehaut said with a laugh.

“I think it looks good,” Merlin said, sounding somewhat surprised.

“I look like a pirate!”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“It’s not—ARGH MY BOOTS ARE DIRTY AND I CAN’T GET THEM QUITE ALL THE WAY CLEAN--”

“Leon, Leon, Leon!” Galehaut grabbed him by the shoulders as Merlin hurriedly bent down to clean the smudges off the boots. When Leon looked up Galehaut was grinning. “You’re going to do fine.”

“He’s right,” Merlin said. “Just take a deep breath and be yourself.”

“I can barely breathe in this tunic,” Leon said, shifting petulantly.

“Chin up, Leon," Galehaut said. "No, really—you have terrible posture. Up, up! You’ll be able to breathe just fine if you stand up straight….”

Gwaine was a Ladies’ Man. Everyone knew this. Heck, he was the Ladies’ Man!

He was probably being too hard on Leon, if he stopped to think about it. You couldn’t expect someone as emotionally stunted as old Leo to suddenly turn into a smooth-talking stud, so Gwaine assumed that there would be some rough patches in his quest to make Elaine and Leon an item. The fact of the matter was that one learned the most about these things from experience, and as a matter of fact he had been thrown into the deep end to be taught how to swim and had turned out all right. So Leon could buck up and do the same.

Or so Gwaine thought.

The sight of Leon gussied up like a peacock, flanked by Merlin and Galehaut would, at any other time, have been hilarious. But this evening it sparked off a memory and a realization that made his heart skip a beat--

That was tonight!

“See, what did I tell you?” Galehaut said, gesturing to Gwaine.

Gwaine panicked further, though was pretty sure he kept it more or less together. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, feigning nonchalance while his mind raced to think up a legitimate excuse as to why he was in the very clothes he had trained in today and was currently lady-less with a half an hour to go before the very important dinner. He would just have to say he lost track of time (which was true) and he couldn’t care less that he was running late (which wasn’t entirely true) and he could blame his wardrobe on his general roguish contempt for custom. Yes, that would work: that sounded just like something he’d do!

“It just looks like you can’t be asked,” Galehaut said, with obvious disdain. Gwaine quite liked Galehaut, in spite of his painfully aristocratic demeanor, and had pegged him as one of those types--not that there was anything wrong with that--the moment he clapped eyes on the ginger-headed nobleman. That wasn’t a problem, but Gwaine certainly didn’t appreciate Galehaut’s self-assumed role as fashion watchman. He was probably the reason Leon looked like a turkey.

“Well, maybe I can’t,” Gwaine snapped, then, as Leon paled, decided to go easy on the lad and change tactics: “Only joking, mate, just on my way to change—what’s everyone in a fuss for? Am I late?” he added, sounding carefree and slightly lost.

“Um. Yeah,” Merlin piped up.

Gwaine glared at him. “Well if you don’t mind, I was just about to collect my guest for the evening, so unless there was anything else? Good. Back in a jiff, Leon, I’m sure you can manage opening conversation without me—haha, again, joking—I’ll be back in time!” he shouted down the hall, excusing himself as quickly as he could. It was a good thing he had a reputation for being rude, because he was pretty sure they all had something further to say to him, but as soon as he rounded the corner, Gwaine broke into a sprint.

He reached the stables in record time and pulled himself up onto Pussy’s back without bothering to saddle him. Studly snorted at him to be so ignored, but Gwaine didn’t have the time. Actually, really, everything was good. If he planned this just right, and--

“Cora, Cora!” Gwaine shouted, dropping down off the steed and holding tight to the skittish horse’s mane. “Wait, wait, don’t close up shop yet! Please tell me you’re open!”

Cora looked at him, bemused. “And what can I do for you, Sir Gwaine?”

Gwaine didn’t even fuss about being called “Sir” in this end of town. His eyes darted around the half-packed-up cart of shinies and pretties. He was going to look ridiculous, but--

“That black shirt, there in the back. How much?”

Cora eyed him warily. What is it with people wanting to tell him how to dress? Maybe he wanted to look cheap! “For you? Gwaine, that one’s far too small, you’ll--“

“I know, look like a harlot, I know.”

“I was going to say ‘pirate’, but--“

“Just give it to me.”

“Something the matter, Gwaine?” she chuckled, plucking the silk shirt from its hanger.

“Matter? What, me? Hardly! And that bundle of roses, I’ll take those, too. How much?” Sir Gwaine stripped his shirt off right there, taking the new shirt--more of a costume than a practical shirt--and pulling it over his chest. It was just a little too tight, but he figured he could probably pull it off as though he meant to buy his shirt too small for the sake of fashion or irony or something.

Anyway, the girls packing up the shop couldn’t stop staring. Gwaine decided to think that was a good thing, and he flashed them a wink that sent them all into giggles.

“Twelve pence,” Cora growled, eyeing him eye the younger girls--and did her own gaze rake him up and down, as well? That was a good sign!

He raised his hands in mock-surrender and gave her thirteen pence before leaping back up onto his white steed and galloping towards the Rising Sun like a madman.

He had, thank you very much, not completely forgotten about the dinner, and yesterday evening had asked one of the twins, Mari--no, Cadi--no, definitely Mari--at any rate, the blonde one--to join him for dinner. She had readily agreed, and he had only to collect her.

There was one place where the twins could always be found: the Rising Sun. And sure enough--

“Cadi, my love!” Gwaine spied her immediately upon entering the throng, spun her around, and kissed her hand.

“I’m Mari,” she giggled.

“Oh--“

“No, she’s not!” the other one appeared--Mari, surely, now that he had them side by side--and tugged her sister’s hair.

“Ah, but can you blame me? It's a wonder I don't go blind from your beauty every time I look at the pair of you!” Gwaine said in his defense, grinning widely and, plucking the bouquet of roses into two behind his back and handing each girl a bundle of flowers.

“Oh!” they squealed, in unison, snatching the roses up and smelling them.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Ready?” Cadi said.

“Ready?” Mari said.

“Em, yes. Dinner?” Gwaine tried, more tentatively. At least he wasn’t the only one who had forgotten!

“Oh, yes, that’s right!” Mari exclaimed, turning to her sister. “Sir Gwaine is taking us to dinner at the castle!”

“Ooh, but I’ve nothing to wear!” Cadi complained.

“Actually, I--“ Gwaine tried, and the pair looked at him. For the second time tonight Gwaine’s heart skipped a beat in horrified realization. He hadn’t meant to take the both of them! Then again, he couldn’t well tell Cadi “no” now, could he? No, he would have to make this look good. And how could you not make having Camelot’s finest matching set on either arm look good, I mean, really? Leon might fuss a bit, but he’d soon get used to it, and the more the merrier, of course! “I…think you look ravishing, as always!”

“As do you,” Mari growled, running her fingers along his chest and the silk shirt covering it.

He took her hand, laughing, and ushered them out. “Come now, we don’t want to keep the others waiting.”

“Ooh! He’s come on the white pony!”

“Hello, Pussy Willow!”

Of course, the dumb brute was behaving for them.

“All right, up you go!” Gwaine said, lifting them onto the horse and pulling himself up between them. He might have been concerned with over-burdening the white palfrey if the two girls hadn’t been half his size and a third his weight combined.

“Are we ready, ladies?”

“Yes, hurry!” Cadi giggled.

“What? Why?” Gwaine said, urging Pussy onward.

“We didn’t pay our tab! Teehee!”

It wasn’t that Leon had *no* experience with courtly dinners, even dinners with ladies. For a time Uther had insisted on having such dinners on a regular basis, for Arthur’s instruction. Leon had been to many of them, just as window dressing for Arthur, really. At least Leon had been permitted to wear whatever he liked, so he usually wore his livery and enjoyed sitting back and listening to the conversation. But the whole thing could become a bit…intimidating. The ladies unwaveringly dominated the conversation, and, well, girls like to talk about certain things. Their conversation could be very interesting, if somewhat more intense than he was used to. Arthur found it all very boring, but Leon would have gladly joined in if…well, he could usually think of a good reason to not join in.

But here he had no choice. He would have to provide at least a quarter of the conversation. Fine. He actually had a lot to talk about, should the conversation turn to court gossip—more still if they started in on the subject of music. He wasn’t used to being the center of attention, though.

He was fiddling with the silverware when Merlin entered, holding the door open for Elaine. Leon jumped to his feet, a movement that either resembled a pirate leaping at the beat to quarters, or, more likely, a hare that had accidentally backed into a thorn bush.

“I’ll see where Gwaine is,” Merlin said, obviously trying not to laugh, but he scampered off before Leon could glare at him, leaving the two of them alone.

She looked absolutely perfect, as always. Her dress puffed and cinched in all the right places. He noticed it was one of those low-back dresses as she took off her shawl--somewhat reluctantly, he also noticed. Was she nervous, just like he was?

Why did he always feel like a frightened giraffe whenever she was looking at him?

While he was wondering this she greeted him, smiled at him, asked him how he was and sat down. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that she appeared right at home in this kind of situation. He just managed to push her chair in for her so that he didn’t look like a complete ass, and sit down opposite her.

“Am I early?” she asked.

“No, no,” Leon said. “Just in time, actually.” And by God, it turns me on.

“I thought that you would have to cancel dinner, what with getting the Round Table back into the castle.”

“Oh—yes,” Leon said.

“I saw you running after it this morning. I wonder how it got rolling like that!” she said, grinning.

Leon forced a laugh, but couldn’t for the life of him think of a way to change the subject without looking obviously evasive. As the seconds ticked by he looked even more evasive. He was getting distracted by her smile.

“…Are you going to be able to get it back in time? For Arthur’s return?” she asked. Her encouraging smile was becoming hesitant, and he felt he’d better say something.

“Mm, perhaps!” he said. He swallowed hard, and started picking at the base of his wine goblet with a fingernail. Oh, no. The silence. He had forgotten to say something that she could respond to.

Their eyes met for a moment. Elaine broke into a giggle, and Leon found himself laughing as well.

“We aren’t going to get very far like this!” she said.

“I guess not,” Leon said. He picked up the jug of wine and poured for her. Their eyes met again, but this time it was intentional, almost flirtatious. It made him feel young and capable, impressing her with his epic wine-pouring skills. Under her sweet gaze he felt himself beginning to relax, like he could actually talk to this woman for five minutes without help….

“The party don’t start ‘til I walk in!”

And with that attractive self-announced fanfare Gwaine entered, also looking like a pirate in clothes that were too tight for him. He was grinning—but Leon recognized *that* grin. Oh, no—what did he do *now*?…. He set down the jug, ready for anything.

Anything, except a shrill chorus of laughs exploding from the hallway. A second later two very indecently-dressed women that Leon unfortunately recognized from the Rising Sun entered. Gwaine joined in with the laughter and said, “You know Cadi and Mari, don’t you? They’ll be joining us for dinner! Isn’t that lovely?”

Leon’s mouth shut, and he stared at Gwaine for a moment. No. No, no, no. He couldn’t have gone that far. He couldn’t possibly have invited them *both*…Oh, but it would be just *like* him, wouldn’t it?...

Gwaine’s smile flickered at Leon’s expression, but only slightly. “Merlin!” he shouted over the twins’ giggles as Leon forced a bow, “You’ve forgot a place-setting! Come on! Don’t keep Mari waiting!”

“That’s Cadi!” Mari said, already sitting at the table beside Elaine.

Gwaine laughed as if it was all a big joke, and, when Merlin got an extra place-setting and shot Leon a pitying glance, Leon realized he was the only one still standing and sat down quickly.

“We were just talking about court fashion,” Gwaine said.

“*Men’s* court fashion!” Cadi and Mari said together, again bursting into peals of laughter. They talked about it all through the soup course, with Gwaine and Elaine bravely attempting to contribute despite the twins’ apparent authority on the subject. Leon, who couldn’t manage to even dress himself, sat quietly.

Until he felt something brush against his leg. Not just anything—a foot. A stocking-ed foot. A woman’s foot. It tickled his calf very purposefully.

He squirmed back in his seat, his eyes darting to Elaine. Was this her way of trying to make him relax? But she only looked at him with confusion, no blush betraying her deed.

Another brush against his leg, this time higher up, in between his knees.

“...What’s wrong, Leon? I should have thought all men preferred trousers to hose.”

Cold horror passed through Leon as his gaze turned to Mari, who had spoken to him. She was leering at him, and he could have sworn he saw her wink. What--? *She* was--! But, she was Gwaine's--!

“They’re--fine, ma’am,” Leon said. He tried to surreptitiously brush the foot away under the table.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter what *we* think,” Gwaine said, “It’s the ladies that get to—Jesus, Leon!”

Leon barely managed to keep from spilling wine everywhere as the toes of the unseen foot gave his leg a hard pinch. Mari and Cadi giggled. Elaine and Gwaine looked concerned.

“Sorry,” Leon mumbled, coloring deeply as Merlin appeared out of nowhere to clean up the spill. He managed a quick glance below the table but the mysterious foot had vanished. When he looked up Gwaine was rolling his eyes, and the conversation drifted to drinking, jewelry, and other things that Leon knew nothing about. All of his conversation topics would have been as appropriate for this audience as philosophy would be for horses.

And this was what people did for fun? Yeah, right.