Well, here it is: the last chapter. It's a whopper, so get a drink and a sandwich.

As always, hope you enjoy!

Chapter Nine

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And so, in the unpredictable way life has (especially in a land of magic where dragons are relatively commonplace and death by Questing beast a legitimate concern), great and disastrous events in this case lead to a small, innocuous matter being brought full circle, and Arthur's forgotten resolution from years ago was finally to come to fruition.

Not without some hiccups of course, for Merlin would not be Merlin if he didn't find some way to upset all of Arthur's carefully orchestrated plans. However, since the problem was something Merlin could not help, and since he inadvertently provided Arthur with an even better solution, the King refrained from complaining about it too much in future years, generally leaving off except for every third Thursday of the month and the week leading up to WhitSunday.

The sticking point, as Arthur was to discover, was the nature of the celebration itself.

Perhaps the King should have guessed; Arthur didn't know if it was a holdover from all of his years of hiding, but Merlin - despite his propensity (in the King's eyes) to say something stupid on an almost hourly basis, or to fall down in spectacularly idiotic ways, thereby drawing all eyes to him - was not always comfortable being the center of attention. In fact, Merlin was often distinctly uncomfortable, if the pained look and resemblance between his complexion and a ripe apple was anything to go by.

Then there was also the fact that, despite of his presence at the King's table as a member of the court and not a hapless servant standing at Arthur's elbow hungrily eyeing all of the food he wasn't allowed to eat, Merlin's enjoyment of such festivities had waned in the past few years as he was routinely scorned, snubbed or sucked up to due to his friendship with the King.

And, of course, finally there was the fact that Merlin's total experiences with feasts held specifically for him as guest of honour consisted of being hit by a rock before one and being viciously attacked at the other… well, all things considered, Arthur felt like a fool for not realizing that a large gathering of people sitting down to a meal might possibly frighten his Court Sorcerer out of his already marginal wits.

Especially after witnessing the warlock's bloodless face as he sat through the Yuletide feast.

Arthur, if he had spent any time at all thinking of how his former servant was going to react, it was to smile in anticipation of Merlin's enjoyment. After weeks of being stuck in a sick room, who wouldn't enjoy a good feast, especially a holiday one? The Great Hall was resplendent with greenery and holly berries and mistletoe and looked warm and inviting in the light of hundreds of beeswax candles. The tables creaked and groaned with the sheer weight of food - apart from the traditional boar's head resting in its place of honour, there was goose and duck and swan, plates and plates of venison, mincemeat and honey fig pies, along with gleaming tureens of chestnut soup and sweet peas and buttered carrots, potato cakes and flampoyntes, not to mention plum puddings, frumenty and pears in sweet wine for dessert.

As minstrels sang cheerful carols, all around guests laughed merrily as they engaged in animated conversation while lifting goblets that glowed golden in the light in dozens of toasts to each others' good health. There were to be Mummers later, and dancing, and Arthur had just caught Gwaine's cheerful (and loud) assertion that he was going to be the Bean King that night "and then the festivities will really get started", when he saw Merlin take one step across the Hall's threshold and come to a freezing halt.

The King was at his Court Sorcerer's side in an instant, while still managing it unobtrusively, remaining perfectly calm in order not to alert the entire room.

"Merlin? What is it? Are you ill?"

The sorcerer only trembled, eyes wide and fixated on the Hall full of people.

Gwaine sidled up in the next moment, with Percival right behind him. From various points across the Hall, Arthur caught the darting glances of Gaius, Gwen, Leon and Elyan - they knew something was amiss, but despite their desire to come over they knew to stay where they were, to keep the conversation in the room going and off the topic of what was happening at the entrance. Meanwhile, the two knights and Arthur gathered around Merlin and spoke normally as if they were just welcoming their friend back to his first festivities since being ill, but without even the need for words from Arthur they took positions that also formed a protective circle around the warlock, shielding him from general view as well as blocking his gaze from falling on the room at large.

Smiling, stance relaxed, still playing a part, Gwaine asked Merlin gently, "Is it the crowd, mate?"

"It's… it's just like…" Merlin panted.

Arthur cursed himself; why hadn't he thought of that? Dozens of people at table, feasting… it would have been just like this the night Merlin was attacked in Dyfrig. Fancier perhaps, but all of the elements were the same.

"I know, Merlin," Percival said. "I feel it too."

Arthur saw the way Merlin stared beseechingly at Percival, as if desperate for the hope that Percival's admittance meant the knight knew how to alleviate the sudden, awful coldness in his belly.

"Me and all," Gwaine confessed. He thrust the tankard ever present in his hand forward so that Merlin could look into it. "See that?"

"What?" Merlin asked.

Gwaine leaned forward, one hand cupping around his mouth as if he were whispering a great secret to Merlin. "It's water!" he confessed.

Merlin gaped. "Water?"

"Bloody water! Can you believe it?"

"I can't," Arthur put in.

"But… but why?" Merlin asked.

Gwaine's dark eyes took on a serious cast. "Because I was drinking that night, Merlin. I drank their damned drugged wine and so I wasn't able to watch out for you."

"Gwaine…" Merlin began, pained at his friend's guilt, but just then Gwen strode regally up to them.

"Merlin! How wonderful to see you here tonight!" she announced, not loudly, but plainly enough that it reinforced the idea of a simple greeting to those around. She took his hands in hers and planted a chaste, brotherly kiss on his cheek, asking more quietly, "Are you well, Merlin? If you're not up to this… after all, you've been quite ill. There'd be no questions if you left, people would just assume you hadn't recovered enough yet."

For a moment, they thought Merlin would take Gwen up on her offer of a convenient explanation. But then he drew himself up taller, stiffening his resolve and announced he would stay. "I'm not going to be afraid of bloody feasts, of all things! It's the only time Arthur gives me enough peace to eat a full meal," he told them and they smiled in approval. And though his gaze as he looked around the room was still a bit wild-eyed and glassy, and he appeared as if he were going to keel over any moment, they proceeded to ignore it for his sake, as Gwen lead him over to sit by her and Gaius.

But the night was hard on Merlin. Arthur didn't fail to notice the stiff way he held himself, the fake grin he gave to the people beside him that made it look as though the sorcerer was suffering from some sort of rictus rather than smiling, the fact that he was drinking more than eating yet in no way becoming more at ease. And though Arthur could not leave the feast until the end, he heard the next morning of how Gwaine and Percival had had to carry the warlock to bed when he passed out of the stairs, the weakened man finally collapsing half due to drink and half due to the exhausting effects of sitting for hours in rigid fear. The two men (apparently wracked by unnecessary guilt and maybe even suffering from bad memories of their own, proving Merlin wasn't the only victim), stayed the night and were there for Merlin several times when he awoke screaming with nightmares.

"So…" Arthur said to his co-conspiring "Give the Idiot a Birthday" committee the next morning, "Feasts then… Right. Out. I presume?"

The others - the surviving members of the Round Table minus one, who was currently dosed to the gills with Gaius's sleeping draught - nodded grimly in agreement.

"But what can we do to celebrate?" Elyan asked. "Feasts are out and Merlin doesn't care about Tournaments or watching skills competitions."

"Let's take him to the tavern!" Gwaine suggested.

"I think after last night he's had enough drinking for a bit," Arthur said warningly.

"But other than those minstrels and mummers from last night, there's not much we can get in the way of entertainment at this time of year," Leon said. (Though, truthfully, he would not have mentioned knife-throwers even in summer, considering the tragic events that last time Arthur ever celebrated his own birthday.)

"What about that bard who used to sing the Ballad about the Green Knight?" Gwaine asked. He loved that one.

"I think his last audience pelted him to death with rotten turnips at having to hear that awful piece one more time," Leon muttered.

"You're just jealous," Gwaine told him.

"Children, please," Arthur said. "We're here to discuss a party for Merlin, not argue over the dubious qualities of wholly inaccurate drivel."

"I think it should be something simple," Gwen said. "The celebration, I mean."

"I agree. Let the party suit the man," Arthur replied.

"Arthur!" Gwen remonstrated. "You're trying to do something nice here, remember."

"Yes, Queenie, this could be the one noble thing you ever do. Don't muck it up too badly."

"Rotten turnips give me an idea. Perhaps Merlin might be entertained by throwing some at a certain Knight in the stocks? Call it a party game of sorts."

"How'd you ever get voted King with an attitude like that?" Gwaine complained.

"You don't vote for Kings."

"How'd you become King then?"

"The Lady of the Lake…. Oh, never mind, you idiot!"Arthur yelled in exasperation. (1)

"Arthur, I'm fully behind your idea to give Merlin a birthday celebration, but I do have patients to see to."

"My apologies, Gaius. You're quite right - let's return to the matter at hand. Personally, I agree with Gwen. The party should be small and simple. If there's one goal we should keep central in our minds when trying to cheer up a friend, it should be to not unduly terrify him."

"So a small gathering then?" Gwen wished to clarify. "Perhaps just all of us and Llacheu?"

Arthur smiled. "Actually, I have one more special guest in mind."

-x-

The first day of January dawned wet and miserable. The skies were grey and a cold, raw drizzle was turning the snowdrifts to colourless slush.

"Well, now, Llacheu my lad," the Court Sorcerer said to the little Prince, "this just won't do at all!"

The baby looked up at him and blinked, then turned to look at the window. "Foo?"

The warlock waved a hand at the window. Merlin grinned at the baby and held a finger to his lips. "Shhh, don't tell!"

Outside, the rain changed into a soft fall of fat, fluffy white snowflakes.

-x-

The first person to know of Merlin's plans (or at least the first person to know who could actually tell someone about it) was young Llacheu's favourite nursery-maid, Rannilt. A sweet-natured peasant girl, and charming in a shy way, she had a round face, honey-coloured hair and a rather large crush on Sir Percival.

"Ah, Rannilt, there you are! Just the person I wanted to see. Come and help me dress the Prince in his warmest clothes."

"But why Lord Merlin?" the girl asked, already doing his bidding.

"Because I've got a big surprise planned for him!"

"A surprise, Lord Merlin?" Rannilt looked worried. She was not at all afraid of the Court Sorcerer - a fact which endeared her to her King and Queen - but she was young and a little timid, and so anything that altered her routine with the infant prince made her feel very unsure.

"That's right. We're going to have some fun, him and me. And why don't you come along too, Rannilt?"

"But the Queen…"

"We'll leave her a note."

Rannilt bit her lip, nervous over her sudden involvement in this impromptu kidnapping. However, when Merlin smiled at her and asked, "Have you ever been skating, Rannilt?" curiosity got the better of her. (2)

-x-

Speaking in terms of pure aesthetics, Merlin's quickly hobbled together contraption would win no praise. However, it fit its purpose down to the ground.

"Well, what do you think?"

Llacheu wrinkled his nose and looked at it with some doubt. The thing looked like a child's sled cut in half - leaving like a miniature chair with runners - and with the rod and handle put on the wrong end. Instead of pulling the infant along behind as one walked, a person was meant to push it in front of them.

Merlin snorted. "Just like your father…" he muttered, but his cheerful grin belied his complaining. "Give it a chance, my imperial highness. Wait till you see it in action!"

With that, Merlin picked up the strange push chair and carried it in one arm while Llacheu dangled like a sack of potatoes in the other and off they went.

-x-

Creating the ice was barely the work of a moment. A hand to the ground and the moisture was drawn from the slick, wet stones of the courtyard and pulled together to form a small skating rink. Merlin then lined the patch of ice with a ringed bank of snow to separate it from the newly dried stones so that people would know where it was safe to walk.

"I know some people won't like it," he told Llacheu as he bundled the baby into the push chair, placing a bar across the infant's lap so he wouldn't fall out, "but I'm tired of worrying about such nonsense. I've been stuck inside for weeks and weeks, so now I'm going to enjoy myself and have some fun with you."

Llacheu reached up to grab at Merlin's nose, which he suddenly found fascinating. "Rurr!"

Merlin snickered. "I'm glad you agree. So what do you say? Are you ready for a ride?"

Llacheu jiggled up and down. "Gah min!"

"I'll take that as a yes."

Merlin put on his skates and got behind Llacheu and grabbed hold of the handle. As the warlock pushed off with his right foot, the clouds cleared and the crisp, shining light of a perfect winter's morning came out. In long flowing glides, Merlin moved faster and faster, thrilling with pleasure at the joy of speed and the warmth of exertion and the flood of childhood memories coming back to him. For the first time in a long time he felt his heart lift within his chest. Up and down the ice they flew and Merlin the warlock laughed with utter abandon at the sight of Llacheu spreading his arms open wide and squealing with baby bliss at the breeze against his tiny face.

And though neither knew it at the time, it was from this one innocent moment of enjoyment that large changes for the better would start to flow.

It started small. To be precise, it started with two small heads bobbing behind the rink's wall of snow, popping up to gape open-mouthed and then dropping down again a second later in fear of being spotted.

Merlin came to a stop. "Feel free to join in," he called out, a grin tugging at his cheek. "We don't mind."

Two blond heads poked up over the bank. Merlin recognized Urfrey and Aelith, two of Rannilt's youngest siblings. Turning to each other, they discussed it between them without saying a word to the sorcerer, as if he were a puzzling alien creature and they were debating the merits of getting closer.

Urfrey, who Merlin guessed was about six, asked with the hope ringing clear in his voice, "Can we really join you and the little Prince, Lord Merlin?"

"Of course. Did Rannilt tell you to bring skates?"

With gap-toothed grins that very nearly matched, brother and sister each raised a hand to display a pair of bone skates.

"C'mon on, then!" Merlin said, and waved them over the snow bank. Tumbling over it like a couple of wriggly puppies, the two fell at Llacheu's feet, causing the baby to giggle.

"Ignore him," Merlin told the two. "Now let's skate."

And they did. Scrambling clumsily hither and thither on too-stiff legs with arms nearly straight out to the side, they still managed to go back and forth and all over the ice, circling around the sorcerer all the while trying to win Llacheu's attention and make him giggle again. The Prince however, wanted to go back to his fast ride and so Urfrey and Aelith hung on behind Merlin and shrieked with delight as they played 'crack the whip'.

It wasn't long before they were joined by Rannilt, who had gathered a couple of her young friends. And then more children - utterly powerless against the irresistible sight of so much fun being had without them - ignored their parents' cautions and clambered onto the ice, skates or no. And soon their parents, as well as others, were helplessly drawn to the scene as well, spontaneously guided by sounds of raucous merriment.

-x-

Inside the castle, Gwen was just waking up. Something was different. The light, she realized. It was much brighter than she was used to upon awakening, and higher in the sky. Wondering that the baby had let her sleep so late, she went into the nursery only to find a note resting in Llacheu's cradle.

He's with me in the courtyard. Come and join us. Merlin.

Bemused, Gwen went to the window and looked out. She clasped a hand over her mouth in amazement and then dashed back to the King's chambers to yank on Arthur's arm and pull him out of bed, like a little girl trying to get her parents to come and see, come and see!

"Arthur! Get up! You simply cannot miss this!"

Arthur tried to focus the one bleary eye that was open and Gwen had a sudden appreciation for Merlin's talents as a servant. Even after three years, she still found it a struggle to get Arthur to a point of coherency in the morning.

"Arthur, I'm telling you, you must see this!"

"Whazzat?"

She smiled and tugged him over towards the window. "Look at that."

"What in the world… is that Merlin?"

Gwen sighed contentedly. "It is. And they're actually enjoying his company. Isn't it marvelous?"

Arthur smiled with satisfaction, more pleased than he could have imagined. Well, at least until he saw who was with Merlin.

"Did that idiot take Llacheu out with him without telling us?"

-x-

Though Arthur would spend the rest of his life denying it - it being apparently a cripplingly girly flair for party-planning ("It's political strategy and use of resources, that's all," the King claimed) - it was his idea to move the party outside and to have the kitchens make enough refreshments for all of the people gathered.

Merlin was in too much of a whirl to notice what was going on until the tables were set out and being laid with cakes and honey rolls and mulled cider and other treats. (To be fair though, the warlock was preoccupied with getting the shy Percival onto a pair of skates so he could join the fair Rannilt - with whom the large knight was just as smitten with as the maid in question was with him - and so was very distracted.)

"Arthur!" Merlin called and skated over to the King (having left Llacheu with Percival, since Rannilt loved babies and Percival could balance by pushing the little chair), "when did you get here?"

"Sometime ago, you idiot."

"I didn't see you."

"I figured. And you call me unobservant!"

Gwaine skated by them just them, chasing a teasing Katherine, the red-headed tavern maid from the Rising Sun, with a lecherous look. "Happy birthday, Mate!" he said, slapping Merlin on the back so hard Arthur had to reach out and steady him.

"Happy Birthday….?" Merlin turned a perplexed gaze to Arthur but before he could ask if Gwaine had been at the ale, Leon, arm in arm with his lady Elizabeth, skated elegantly by and said, "Happy Birthday, Merlin." Elizabeth, both refined and warm-hearted, wished him, "Many Happy Returns, Merlin." The warlock smiled, pleased that Leon's lady had finally grown comfortable enough around him to drop the "Lord", but he still didn't understand what was going on.

"Arthur," he said, "I don't understand. Why are people wishing me a happy birthday?" He cocked his head in puzzlement, noticing the servants at their task for the first time. "And why are tables been laid outside?"

"Hmmm, so dense today aren't we? Well, I'll explain it to you, Merlin. Today is the first of January."

"Court astrologer tell you that, did he?"

"Merlin, you idiot, we don't even have a Court astrologer!"

"So it was Geoffrey then?"

"Shut up, Merlin. I'm trying to do something for you."

"Really? And you're doing it so nicely too. Telling me to shut up and everything."

Arthur sighed windily. "As I was saying, today is the first of January. Does anything strike you as special about that date?"

"Not particularly."

"Not even that it happens to be a day that falls less than a fortnight after the Winter Solstice?"

Suddenly a dim memory of a conversation from years ago ghosted across Merlin's consciousness. One eyebrow shot up as an idea began to form.

"A day when say maybe when the horrible event of your birth might have been inflicted on your poor, unsuspecting mother?" Arthur continued, smiling gently now. The look in Merlin's eyes - surprised and happy and almost too afraid to hope that this was what he thought it was - filled Arthur with immense pleasure.

"Sire…?" Merlin asked softly.

Arthur raised his voice slightly to proclamation volume: "Merlin Emrys, of Ealdor and Camelot, I hereby declare that today, the first day of the month of January, is now and forever more to be celebrated as the anniversary of your birth. Happy Birthday, my friend! May you have many, many more!"

Merlin, who had been staring at his King, hadn't noticed the audience gathering around behind him and was startled badly when they began to clap and cheer.

-x-

It was a day of marvels and a day of simple joys, or so it seemed to Arthur. Certainly it was a wild success as a party, at the very least. Dozens of scenes left their indelible memories that day: Merlin laughing happily with the townspeople; the comical look of terror on Percival's face when Gwen took Llacheu away for his nap and powerful knight was left to make his own lumbering attempts at skating; the dour baker's wife smiling and starting off a round of song; Merlin winning the skating race between him, Gwaine and Elyan and Merlin making sculptures out of ice and snow, magically making it appear as if they were flowing straight out of his hands. There were crystal-like dragons and griffins and strange creatures Arthur had never even heard of, like the incredibly tall and gangly spotted thing he called a camelopard. (3)

"A what?"

"Camelopard. It was in one of Gaius's books."

Arthur was going to inquire further, but then a humungous snow creature with a ridiculously long snout bounded by, covered in a wild gang of children clinging to its sides.

"And what was that?" Arthur demanded with a shout.

"An elephant," Merlin informed him, saying it as if it were something everyone should know.

"You're making these things up."

"No, I'm not! Just because your education has been frightfully constrained doesn't mean everyone's has."

Aithusa stopped the argument, stomping around them like he was on parade and singing,

"I'm a rover, seldom sober,

I'm a rover of high degree!

And when I'm drinking, I'm always thinking,

How to gain my love's company!" (4)

"Gwaine!" Merlin yelled and those around started to hoot with laughter. "Did you teach him that song?"

"I may have done. I can't recall," the knight said.

"I'll teach you to corrupt my dragon!"

Gwaine yelped. "Aithusa! Protect me, my friend!"

"I'll save you, Gwaine!" Aithusa declared, galloping over.

"Halt!" Gwaine ordered Merlin. "You may be a powerful sorcerer, but I have a mighty dragon to protect me!"

"Was that your mighty dragon giggling just now?" Leon asked.

Aithusa looked around from behind Gwaine and spotted his foe. "Oh, Gwaine! It's Father. I can't protect you against Father!"

"Nonsense, mate! You just haven't got enough cider into you yet. That's the wonderful thing about being drunk - then you stop worrying about listening to stupid nobles. Here, have another tankard."

"What!" Merlin bellowed. "Gwaine, you irredeemable reprobate! You're not getting him drunk again? And just who are you calling a stupid noble?"

"Lord Merlin," Gwaine smirked.

"Sir Gwaine," Merlin answered back.

"Oi, you two!" Arthur demanded, joining into the act. "Since when did being a noble become a bad thing, you ungrateful rabble? See if I ever elevate the two of you again!"

Gwaine snorted. "If you promote Merlin again, you'll have to make him bloody King!"

Arthur shot the two men a glare that sent them both reeling back.

"I think I'm going to throw in my lot with you two," Merlin said to Gwaine and Aithusa.

"Good choice, mate! Now here's a little ditty I know about a jolly butcher…"

Arthur chuckled as the two draped an arm over each other's shoulder and stomped along behind Aithusa as the dragon started on his parade again and all three started singing about a sailor who "roved it out one morning in search of company". And, in fitting with the merriment of the day, they soon had a large following behind them. (5)

The best moment of the day, however, was the arrival of Kilgharrah, for on his back, along with Gaius who had gone as escort, was Hunith. Merlin stood frozen where Arthur and Gwen had lead him just outside the castle, his mouth gaping open like a little boy's and his eyes glistening with tears.

"Mam?"

Hunith hurriedly dismounted from Kilgharrah (who was smiling, despite his former protests about "not being a horse"), and her gaze immediately narrowed in on her son.

"Merlin!" she cried and ran to him. "Oh, Merlin!" Arthur and Gwen and numerous others all watched with soppy grins on their faces as mother and son embraced.

-x-

And so it was that Merlin the warlock was given a birthday. Unbeknownst to all, Arthur had indeed picked the correct day, but though all would remain ignorant of this fact, it did not matter because, though he had been Court Sorcerer for three years, whenever Merlin looked back he reflected that this was the first day when he truly felt accepted as such.

For it was on this day that a simple and rather more human magic took place: the people truly saw their Court Sorcerer for the first time. They saw a man who entertained the children and chuckled when a baby spread honey on his face, who laughed when he got hit with snowballs and got rosy cheeks in the cold and blushed when he got a birthday kiss from Katherine the saucy tavern-maid. A man who was as grateful for a jar of preserved peaches as he was for the fine new steed the King had bought him to replace the one lost in Dyfrig.

A man who cried when he got to see his mother.

Therefore, as the day went on and the people observed Merlin, their magical protector, it became harder and harder to see him as an evil sorcerer. It did not change every mind, nor give reassurance to those who wanted a powerful and mysterious sorcerer ready to kill their enemies, but it did cause the majority to dismiss most of their fears.

"Do you think they enjoyed it?" an exhausted and more-than-a-little-tipsy Merlin asked Arthur as his King helped him to bed and bent to pull off the warlock's boots.

"Did who enjoy it?"

"The people!"

"The point was for you to enjoy it, you idiot."

"It wasn't though, was it? Not entirely, I mean."

"Yes, actually. It was to give you a birthday - something I wanted to do for years - and to say thank you for deciding to stay on as Court Sorcerer. The townspeople joining in was just a lucky happenstance."

"As was you seizing the opportunity that let them," Merlin smirked, not quite as drink-addled as Arthur had assumed.

Arthur snorted and threw Merlin's foot down. "If you're still that sober that you can work that out, you can take off your own bloody boots."

"Oh, please, Arthur! I could get used to having a King as a servant. And it's a nice start to paying off your debt for all the years I did it for you."

Arthur rolled his eyes but gave in. "Don't get used to it, imbecile. This is a one time thing. And it's only because you over-tired yourself. You may be mostly better, but don't think I didn't see how shaky your legs were getting by the end of the night."

"Pff! That's just the effects of that stuff from the north Gwaine got a hold of. What did he call it? Whiskey?"

"Uh huh. Let's see how you feel tomorrow when that 'whiskey' kicks in."

"No, really, Arthur. I'm ready to go back to work tomorrow."

"Don't even think about it! Your mother is visiting. Spend some time with her."

"Ha! I think your son has enchanted her. She's not going to want to visit with old me when she's got little Llacheu to make a time over."

Arthur smiled; he'd been extraordinarily pleased at Hunith's effusive praise of Llacheu and the baby had taken to her as quickly as he had Merlin. (The whole event had taken some of the sting out of how complacently Hunith had apparently taken to riding Kilgharrah - a thing Arthur had only done once and had sworn he would never do again.)

"But you think the people did enjoy it?" Merlin asked again, circling the topic back around to what it had been.

"Yes, I think they enjoyed it. The children especially."

"I think that's where our hope will lie."

"I think so too."

"It's the start of a new year, you know," Merlin said with a sleepy smile.

Arthur snorted again. "Now who's got the big head?" he asked. "The new year doesn't start for three months yet. We're not going to change it just because you had a birthday." (6)

Merlin closed his eyes, still grinning. "We'll see who's right in the end, prat."

.

1) Sorry, rampant, utterly shameless stealing again. I'll leave you to guess the source of this one, though.

2) According to Wikipedia, skating has been around for thousands of years and likely originated with the Finns, who would have used skate blades made from animal bones. However, the first skate to use a metal blade (using a thin strip of copper to fit it to the underside of a shoe) was found in Scandinavia and dated to 200 AD, so they would have been around in Merlin's time as well.

3) A giraffe. It was originally called this because people thought it was the offspring of a camel and a leopard.

4) The title of this song is "I'm a Rover" and, while I believe it's an old folk tune (though I doubt it's from the sixth century), I'm quoting the lyrics used by the Newfoundland group "Great Big Sea". There are some videos of them doing it at concerts posted on Youtube in case you're interested. I find the CD version is a little more lively, but it's worth checking out because - seriously - I dare you to hear this song and NOT think of Gwaine.

5) "The Jolly Butcher" is another song by Great Big Sea, and like most sea shanties, seems to involve a sailor looking for company. However, in this song, said sailor gets caught out at the end! Perhaps Gwaine should take it as a warning.

6) Traditionally, the New Year began in March, sometimes on the 1st, but most often on either the 21st (the vernal equinox) or the 25th, (the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary or "Lady Day"). In England, Wales, Ireland and the future United States, March 25th was the first day of the year until the adoption of the Gregorian calendar in 1752. Admittedly, the dates don't mean much in the world of Merlin where anachronisms abound and being too historically accurate can actually take you out of canon, so basically just think of this as me using minor trivia for my own purposes.

Author's message:

Well, that's it, I guess. I'm thrilled to have finished it, yet sad that it's over because it was a hell of a lot of fun to write! But now hopefully I can get back to "Little Bird" as well as start the character piece that's been kicking around my head the last week.

In any case, I want to thank each and every one of you - reviewers, people who put the story or me as an author on their favourite lists or story alerts, and even just those of you who simply read it - I'm grateful to everyone who took the time to look at my work and I sincerely hope you got as much pleasure reading it as I did writing it. Thank you.