"Another round, Mary!"

"Are you sure you've not had enough, Gwaine?"

"Ah, Leon, you clearly don't know me well. I'm not even started!"

Merlin couldn't stop himself from grinning as his friend grabbed another tankard of mead from the barwoman, much to the displeasure of sensible Sir Leon. Since returning to Camelot, work had been ceaseless. In her short reign, Queen Morgana had caused chaos. She had separated the families, ruined the homes and taken the lives of any who opposed her. The people were wary, and the presence of the knights made them feel safer. Gwaine had been on patrol with the other knights every night until now, and he'd invited Merlin to join them down the tavern. If Gwaine was going to let his (soft and flowing) hair down, Merlin was going to be there. Actually, he really liked the way Gwaine's hair flicked as he tossed his head, either in the heat of combat or just when he was talking. He'd been quietly disappointed when Lancelot had cut his. It had made him look so innocent and youthful. Merlin wasn't a fan of it on Sir Leon though – it was just a bit bedraggled-looking on him. And yet it made Gwaine look rugged and roguish.

"Is he always like this?" Lancelot asked Merlin, suddenly stirring him from his daydream.

"Huh?"

"Gwaine."

Lancelot nodded towards the knight, who was downing his tankard.

"Oh. Er, yes."

"God help me."

Merlin laughed. He had not been this happy for a long time. His best friends in the world, Lancelot and Gwaine, were living in Camelot. No more flitting to and fro, leaving Merlin just when he'd become fond of someone.

"What about you, handsome? Want anything?"

It was Mary, the barwoman. She had met Merlin before, (and liked what she saw), when he had come to her tavern with Arthur. It had been destroyed when Cenred's army had attacked her village, which lay on the outskirts of Camelot. She had only just repaired it from the brawl Merlin had accidentally started. Mary had run to Camelot, and now she was working in the Prince's Pride, Arthur's least favourite tavern. Her liking of Merlin was obvious, and a source of teasing from his friends. He was both surprised and pleased that for once, someone had shown an interest in him. It made a pleasant change from every girl falling for Arthur.

"Oh, no thankyou, Mary," he said, slightly embarrassed, "But, er, thanks for asking."

"It's no problem, for you," Mary said, giving him an admiring look before moving on to the next table.

The knights burst into laughter as she left. Well, all except Percival, who was staring after Mary. He seemed a little confused. That wasn't really surprising; he seemed to spend his life in a haze of constant bewilderment. As Lancelot said, his body was strong, but his mind was… less so.

"You got a good thing going there, Merlin," Gwaine said, raising his eyebrows mischievously, "I didn't have you down as a player."

"I'm not!"

"A-ha?"

"Gwaine, if anyone here is, it's you," Elyan said, from his seat next to Leon.

This was met by a chorus of agreement from everyone around the table.

"I'm not that bad," said Gwaine, grinning in such a playful way that it gave his fib away, "Well… maybe. It's not my fault if the ladies can't say no."

"I feel sorry for them," Lancelot muttered under his breath.

"That isn't true, though, is it?" Merlin said to Gwaine triumphantly, "Gwen turned you down."

Gwaine shrugged.

"Yeah, well she had a better prospect than me. Who'd choose a rascal over a handsome prince?"

Merlin watched him flick his hair off his face. Me, he thought. Then, That was very enthusiastic, Merlin.

"She's done well, your sister," Gwaine said, turning to Elyan.

"I know," Elyan nodded, "I thought she was lucky to be the maid of the king's ward. Turns out she was luckier than that."

It was now common knowledge that Gwen, the serving-maid, was involved with Prince Arthur. They hadn't intended the news to be spread about Camelot, but then they were such an obvious couple. Merlin had seen them snogging in some corridor of the castle at least three times recently, which was more than he ever wanted to see. He was happy that his friends had found one another, but such open displays of affection made him feel awkward. And more than a little jealous. Not of Arthur, or Gwen. Well, not anymore. In spite of Arthur's utter prattishness, Merlin had felt something for him. The Great Dragon had told him their destinies lay together but now he knew it wasn't to be. He surprised himself at how little disappointed he'd been when he found out the prince and Gwen were together. No, he wasn't jealous of Gwen anymore, but he was jealous because he was well aware that he had no-one to show such fondness to himself. Not that he thought a lot about girls; he rarely did, and normally that was only if one had actually walked into him or done something particularly unusual, like dance on the table or win an arm-wrestling contest or try to kill Arthur. (Oddly, the most frequent of these was the last.)

Sometimes Merlin wondered if he would ever fall in love. It seemed that everyone did at least once. Even Gaius had. But he was still alone, separated from Alice, the woman he wanted to marry. Maybe Freya had been Merlin's only chance at love. He'd cared about the pretty druid girl, felt a connection to her, and felt the power of the magic that they both possessed. But oh no, Arthur had to bloody go and kill her. He had felt her loss, and been miserable for days after. Arthur had thought he was upset because he threw water over Merlin. What a prat. Merlin wanted to yell, "No, actually, it was because you murdered my girlfriend." His anger and sadness had gone away soon enough, though – he hadn't known her that long, and well, she did turn into a hideous monster every night. She was still about, though, somehow present in the lake Merlin had dumped her body in. No, not dumped, put. He put her body in the lake, that sounded more romantic and less like he'd murdered her. (Which was what Arthur had done.) Despite Freya's continued existence, he doubted that he could really keep up a relationship with an undead entity. Maybe they'd be reunited when he was dead, that sounded nice. Or maybe they wouldn't. Who was to say they'd think to dump him in the lake too? It all seemed rather hopeless.

Merlin felt Lancelot tense a little next to him. He felt bad that he'd mentioned Gwen now, but she was going to come up in conversation sooner or later.

"I wish her all the happiness in the world," Lancelot said, his voice stilted.

Gwaine leaned over the table conspiratorially. He could sniff a secret here. Either he was very shrewd or it was a badly-kept secret. Given his state of partial inebriation, Merlin was inclined towards the latter.

"I sense a history here," Gwaine said in a low tone.

Leon looked a little taken aback.

"Really, Gwaine, I don't think it's proper to talk in that way about Gwen. I don't really think that she and Lancelot –"

He cut short when he saw the expression on Lancelot's face.

"Oh. So you do have a history?" Leon asked, intrigued in this new revelation despite himself.

Lancelot shrugged.

"It was nothing really. When I first came to Camelot, she and Merlin were very good friends to me."

"Yeah," Merlin chuckled, "Gwen was a bit of a better friend than me, though."

"Well, she was kind," Lancelot went on, "I wanted more than anything to stay here with her, and I knew she wanted me to as well. But I did not feel ready. Then, about a year later, our paths crossed again. I could not deny my feelings, but once more, we were separated. And now we meet again. It was too much for me to expect her to feel the same after I left her twice."

Leon looked heartbroken by this story.

"So you came back and she was with another?" he breathed, "The man who you looked up to as a leader?"

Lancelot nodded, and Leon shook his head in disbelief.

"That is so tragic."

Tonight is full of revelations, thought Merlin, It seems Leon's quite a romantic.

Gwaine widened his eyes.

"Well I'll be damned. Has anyone else been involved with Gwen?"

Merlin knew he wasn't expecting another man to join in.

"Er, well…" he said, running his finger around the rim of his tankard.

Everyone at the table stared in disbelief.

"You?" asked Lancelot, spluttering.

"I said he was a player!" Gwaine declared.

"We were never involved," Merlin said, "But she did kiss me once."

"How did this happen?" Lancelot pressed.

"I'd been poisoned," Merlin said, as if this was a normal occurrence, because it was for him; near-death situations involving himself and Arthur happened at strangely regular intervals, occurring almost every week, "It took some time for Arthur to find the antidote. Gaius and Gwen took care of me, but it looked like I was a goner. They gave me the antidote, but they thought I'd died. When I woke up, Gwen just suddenly kissed me. She didn't give me a chance!"

Gwen was his closest female friend, so he could tell that, despite her happiness at being with Arthur, she was at a loose end. She was a lady's maid and now there was no first lady of Camelot. Gwen had always been close with Morgana, and she was still hurt by her betrayal. Upset and idle, Gwen was now doing odd jobs, helping Gaius in his workshop, Elyan in his forge, and Arthur in his conferences. Merlin knew she wasn't settled; he thought she needed an occupation. Like Merlin, she was from a peasant family, so she was used to hard work. Being without some employment threw her off kilter, and she was now trying to adjust to the very different situation she now found herself in.

"Well, it's understandable that Gwen kissed you," Leon said, "It's natural to be more affectionate towards a friend if he nearly died."

"Oh, so that is why you were cuddling Elyan when he was wounded by Morgana's immortal men," said Percival, as if something had just clicked in his brain.

"It wasn't cuddling!" Leon protested.

"It looked like it to me," Percival said, adamant.

Gwaine clapped a hand on Elyan's shoulder before he could join the cuddling debate.

"You need to keep tabs on your sister," he advised him.

"She certainly seems to be getting around," Elyan said in agreement.

"I'm sure she will make a fine Queen," said Lancelot, loyal to the last.

Leon nodded, remembering his sensibilities.

"Yes. Arthur needs the support of a strong woman."

"Especially now," Elyan added.

"Hmm, he's a bit dreary at the moment," Gwaine said, "All speeches and treaties and ordinances and counsellors."

"He's under a lot of stress, Gwaine," Leon argued.

The knight was resolute.

"Yeah, but can't he loosen up a little for once? It's Yuletide soon!"

"I don't imagine this Yuletide will be too lively," Leon said resignedly.

"Thank God, for Gwaine's sake," Lancelot murmured into Merlin's ear.

"Whyever not?" Gwaine asked, "After all his subjects have been through, don't we deserve a knees-up?"

"I don't think we're going to get one," Leon told him.

Merlin saw Gwaine's point. Everything had been so bleak recently. He loved Yuletide – the colours, the dancing, the music, the food… He would have liked Lancelot and Gwaine's first Yuletide in Camelot to be a merry festival. Last year's had been marred by Uther's grief at Morgana's absence, but the year before, Merlin's first Yuletide at Camelot, had been breathtaking. They had celebrated it back in Ealdor, and he had always loved it, (even if his dancing left something to be desired), but that was nothing to the explosion of colour and movement and sound in Camelot. He remembered helping Gwen to make decorations, and it had gotten him into a festive mood, full of anticipation. He had not been disappointed by the city's Yuletide spectacle. Just thinking about it made him long for the festivities. But as Leon pointed out, that was unlikely to happen this year.

Gwaine twisted around in his seat to face the bar.

"Mary!" he called.

"Oh, no," said Leon, "That's enough for tonight."

"Aww, Leon!" Gwaine whined, "Just one more?"

Leon shook his head firmly.

"We're knights of Camelot. We have to show a good example to the people. Arthur's already warned you to especially responsible, seeing as strictly speaking, you are still banished from Camelot."

Gwaine pouted.

"That's not fair. Why should I have to stop and no-one else?"

"Oh no," said Leon, "We're all going home now. Pay up, we need rest for tomorrow's patrol."

The knights groaned.

"I know it's boring, but we've all got to do it," said Leon, "Come on, everyone. Bed."

"Yes, mum," said Elyan.

"I don't like your prudence," said Gwaine decidedly to Leon, "I don't like your joy-killing. And I don't like your hair."

He's got a point. Leon ignored him as they all started to get up. Well, Gwaine tried to get up, but he stumbled and crashed heavily onto the person standing next to him, which happened to be Merlin. They both ended up on the floor, Gwaine shaking with laughter. It was infectious and soon Merlin was joining in. Leon rolled his eyes. Gwaine stopped laughing and looked at Merlin seriously.

"Merlin, did I ever mention you have pretty eyes?"

"Oh God, he really is drunk," said Lancelot.

Percival grabbed onto Gwaine and pulled him up, and Merlin crawled to his feet.

"Miss Hill, can we pay?" Leon called.

Miss Hill. Leon was so proper and formal. It was actually quite sweet. Mary bustled over.

"Call me Mary, love. Are you leaving already?"

"Yes. How much do we owe you?"

"That'll be two groats apiece, gentlemen."

The men fished inside their pockets and handed Mary their coins. All apart from Gwaine, who was too drunk to really realise what was going on.

"You know Percy, I once had a horse like you… If I was any more drunk, I think I'd try to ride you right now…"

Bad imagery, Gwaine, bad imagery. Merlin dug into Gwaine's pockets.

"Whoa, where are your hands going, Merlin?" he asked as Merlin searched for his money.

Merlin's fingers closed around the coins and he passed Gwaine's two groats to Mary.

"Thankyou for your service," she said cheerfully, as they started to leave.

Merlin walked a few steps before he realised Gwaine wasn't with them. He turned back to see him still leaning on Percival, who awkwardly hung a little behind.

"Something I can do for you?" Mary asked, after the tall man had stood looking at her for a few seconds.

"Er…" he began, "Thankyou, Mary. I like being in your tavern."

Mary smiled, a little perplexed.

"That's alright, big man."

Percival looked at her a little more, before Merlin cleared his throat.

"Er, Percival?"

The knight was so surprised that he let go of Gwaine, who fell onto the person standing in front of him, which yet again happened to be Merlin. He hit the floor hard.

"Ah, Merlin. You're such a good friend to me. Did I mention you have nice eyes?" Gwaine said as he looked down at the boy.

The other knights, who were at the door, heard the crash and turned to see what was going on.

"Don't make that a habit, you two," said Lancelot, laughing quietly in amusement.

Percival yanked them to their feet and they stumbled out of the tavern.

"Well, goodnight, gentlemen," said Leon, before stepping down the road to the knight's quarters.

Lancelot and Merlin smiled grimly as they lugged Gwaine back with them to Gaius' chambers. Elyan and Percival walked on to Elyan's forge. Percival was staying there, as he didn't mind sleeping down in the stable with the donkey that turned the wheel for the furnace.

"I'll see you in the morning," he said, as he turned down the road with Percival, who dumped Gwaine onto Lancelot and Merlin, "If you're all recovered from tonight, that is!"

Gwaine would have a terrible hangover for tomorrow's patrol, and having him in a bad mood was not something to be taken lightly. Especially not when they were all staying in Gaius' chambers, which was becoming quite a squeeze. Lancelot was in a spare bed in the workshop, whilst Merlin and Gwaine shared Merlin's room. (Gwaine had slept in the workshop, but he kept knocking things over so Gaius had turfed him out.) Gaius was at his wit's end. When Gwaine had upset a vial of foot balm, the tenth thing he'd managed to break so far, the physician had angrily told Merlin, "Do not allow any more foolish young men to roam willy-nilly around my workshop! It's bad enough having one as a permanent fixture, let alone three."

They crept into the chambers as quietly as they could to avoid waking the old man, which wasn't very quiet as Gwaine was spouting drunken nonsense, Lancelot and Merlin were almost falling over as he jerked around, and the door to Merlin's room squeaked noisily. They dumped the intoxicated knight onto Merlin's bed.

"Will you be alright?" Lancelot asked Merlin.

"Yeah, fine. He'll get to sleep quickly, the state he's in."

Lancelot smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder.

"Goodnight, Merlin."

"'Night."

Lancelot left the room, and Merlin sighed, looking at his semiconscious friend. He was slumped in an awkward position, so Merlin rearranged him whilst Gwaine mumbled incoherently.

"Leon's such a mother hen," he murmured, "'Go to bed, Gwaine', 'Clean your armour, Gwaine'… even told me to cut my hair! I told him to look in the mirror!"

Merlin laughed softly. He finished putting his friend in a more comfortable position and perched on the side of the bed, looking down at him. He looked so sweet as he lay there, no longer the wayward warrior Merlin knew.

"Oh. Have you finished tucking me in?" Gwaine asked, disappointed.

"Yes. Now go to sleep."

"Don't I get a goodnight kiss?"

"I thought you said Leon was the mother hen."

Gwaine's eyes flicked up to Merlin.

"I had nothing motherly in mind regarding you."

With that, he yanked his hand, pulling Merlin onto him. The boy lay sprawled on the bed, Gwaine's (firm and muscular) body under him.

"Hello there," said Gwaine, his voice low.

Merlin blinked.

"Hello."

Gwaine rolled over, so that he was lying on top of Merlin. He was heavy and Merlin felt pressed in, held down.

"You know what I've always liked about you, Merlin? You pull the most adorable faces. Especially when you're confused. Like now."

Merlin felt his stomach churn. Being so close to Gwaine was intoxicating. Or maybe that was just the alcohol.

"Gwaine… I…"

"Ssh."

Gwaine put a finger to his lips, and the young servant bristled at his touch, staring at him.

"That's another thing I like about you. Sometimes you look at me like I'm naked and you want it."

That's not intentional. Merlin wasn't nearly as drunk as he should be to pass out, and yet he felt like he was about to do just that. The same applied to doing something with Gwaine that he'd live to regret. This has come out of nowhere.

Gwaine licked his lips. Slowly and deliberately.

"What's it gonna be?" he asked, his voice a husky whisper, "Want to see what I can do to you? Or do you… you know… I would…"

Gwaine fought to keep his eyes open as he stumbled on his words.

"Eurgh… I…"

Then he passed out. He fell heavily onto Merlin for the third time that evening.

"Gwaine?"

No response.

Well that was disappointing. Merlin sighed and somehow, after a lot of pushing, got Gwaine off him and rolled off the bed. He pulled the covers over the knight before settling down in the crumple of blankets on the floor. It was meant to be a temporary measure, until Gwaine and Lancelot moved out. Merlin tried to make himself comfortable on the hard floor. In his bed, Gwaine grunted in his sleep. Gwaine. How had Merlin even entertained the idea of him and Gwaine? The man was drunk – he obviously didn't really mean what he'd said. And what if he had gone through with it? Merlin would have no idea what to do. His mother had told him the facts of life, but she didn't cover 'What to Do When a Handsome Knight Asks You to Bed'. Even if she did, Merlin guessed the answer would be to say 'no'. He groaned and rolled over on his side. Tonight had been a night of revelations indeed.