Chapter 5: The Yolk You Wear

"Gwen, ahm, I could really use your help."

A loud clang.

Guinevere winced and turned around in time to see Merlin drop most of the armor he had been carrying. He stood in the open doorway, holding only the helmet now. Which he tossed to the floor too. He hung his head, sighing. "Do you understand any of this?"

She set down the tunic she had been darning on the table and got up. She grabbed the rest of the armor from the floor. Even from across the room, she could tell the craftsmanship of the armor was fine. Probably belonged to Prince. Poor Merlin was his manservant. No one deserved that job.

"I do." Guinevere set the armor on the table next to her sewing and bent to pick up the helmet.

Merlin did too.

And they knocked heads.

"Ow!" Guinevere laughed and backed away.

"I'm sorry." He stuttered. "I'm so sorry." He picked up the helmet and held it out to her. "I'm rubbish at this."

"Nonsense." She smiled and set the helmet next to the rest of the armor. "You've only just started. Look, I'll show you how it goes on."
"Really?" He sighed, but smiled big and wide. "You're saving my life. I've been up all night, trying to-"

"I know you'll understand it soon. Have a seat." Guinevere pulled a stool a little closer to the boy and he plopped down into it, sighing again. "That tired?" She smiled.

Merlin laid his head down upon her table. "You have no idea."

"I may." Guinevere smirked and moved the tunic she had been working on. It could wait. She ladled some well-water she had collected earlier into a kettle and set it over the little fireplace. Would be boiling soon…

"I'm sorry!" Merlin sat up, rocking back in the stool. "Of course you know what it's like. You've worked here longer than me. How-... How long have you…?" He trailed off, frowning and looking up at her.

"How long have I...what?" Guinevere asked as she set some brown bread and hard cheese on the table. "Hungry?"

"What? Oh, yes." Merlin took some bread. "How long have you been a servant here?"

"Not long." She thought about it. It had been long. Almost as long as her mother had. Almost. "About ten years. Something like that." She stood by the table and began to untangle the mess of leather straps and clasps that would fasten the armor to a body.

"Ten years!" He exclaimed, a little muffled though, since he had just taken a bite of bread. "That's a lot!"

She laughed.

Of course he turned beet red and tried to stutter out apologies through the crumbs. "Oh, sorry, I- I didn't mean- What I meant-"

"It's okay."

"Sorry."

Guinevere shrugged. She pulled a small wooden box off a shelf, opened it, and tipped a few of the dried flowers that lay inside into two horn cups. "Doesn't bother me."

A small sigh. "Thanks."

She set the cups on the table to wait for the boiling water. "So!" Guinevere put her hands on her hips. "What's the problem?" And she nodded at the armor she had set on the table.

The black-haired boy put his face in his hands. "I've been at it all night but I just can't figure it out, where the pieces all go." Merlin rubbed his eyes before looking up at the armor again. "Arthur's going to kill me."

Guinevere picked up the helm again. It was very finely made, and polished pretty well. Could be a bit better. A couple spots had been missed. Her father probably had some lanolin oil around here somewhere she could use. Otherwise, it would rust. "Arthur's not going to kill you." She began to look around her father's workspace; it was cluttered.

"Yes, he is."

"No, he's not." She found the pot of oil, a rag, and set to work. "I'll help you." Guinevere sat down on the other stool, across the table from Merlin

Merlin was watching her. After a minute or so, he spoke again. "Thank you."

A few more minutes passed until finally she finished. Then she held the helmet out to him across the table. "Here. Where does that go?"

Merlin smiled and lowered his eyes. Maybe a blush. "Um, yeah, on the head."

"Correct!" Guinevere looked to the hearth and noticed her kettle was boiling. She got up and grabbed it with a thick rag. It steamed. Warm. Damp. Poured out the water into the two cups. The dried flowers floated to the top. "See? It's not a lost cause."

"I suppose not." He shrugged.

"It's a start." While the infusion steeped, she looked over the armor. Now, she had to remember what the Prince commonly wore in tournaments. Guinevere called to mind the number of times she had seen a man dressed, piece-by-piece, in armor. She closed her eyes. Tried to visualize each piece. Tried to-

"So… So your mother was a- a sorcerer?" The boy asked.

Guinevere opened her eyes again and thought for a moment about her answer. "In a way." She eventually admitted. "Not like you though."

"How so?"

The infusion was probably ready by now. Guinevere got up from the stool and removed the dried flowers out of the hot, fragrant water with a slotted spoon. "She used it like her mother used it, for small things. Little spells, little charms." She set one of the horn cups, full of steaming sweet-smelling water, in front of Merlin. "Maybe some words to protect a house during the night before solstice. Certain plants for certain hurts and sicknesses. Things like that."

Merlin took the drink in both hands, staring up at her, mouth hanging open. "Wow."

Guinevere sat down again and sipped from her cup.

"And you? Your mother? You were never caught?"

She swallowed the brew. It tasted of last summer's sunshine. "No." Guinevere shook her head. "Not yet, I suppose."

"Do you think she, your mum, would she teach me?" Merlin took a sip too and his eyebrows flew up and disappeared into his bangs. "This is amazing." He grinned and pointed at the cup he held. "I can't- I can't even describe it."

Guinevere smiled. "Wildflowers from last year."

"Anyway. I'm so new to… this, but I've love to have a teacher. Gaius he-" He stuttered to a stop and cleared his throat. "He doesn't know."

Guinevere nodded and set down her drink. The armor on the table gleamed beside her, a warm glow from the firelight of the hearth and a cool reflection of the pale morning light sliding through the doorway. "I'm sorry. My mother passed some years ago." She smiled at the boy. He'd be embarrassed now for asking.

Merlin's ears turned red. "Sorry." And he lowered his eyes. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

Guinevere shrugged and stood again. It was about time for the armor lesson anyway. Time to move on. "I would be happy to show you what she taught me though. It wasn't much, but I remember quite a bit."

"Really?" He perked up, like a thirsty plant does after its been given water. Sat up. Grinned. "I would love that, really, I-"

"But first." She interrupted, picked up the pauldron. "We have to teach you the finer points of armor."

"Oh." Merlin frowned, then sighed. "Right."

She narrowed her eyes, watching him. He had better not drag his feet now. He had asked for her help after all. "And when is this tournament, Merlin?"

He let his head fall back to the table, into his arms. "Today!" Came the muffled reply.

"And how much time do you have?"

"An hour!"

"Well, then. We had better get started."

The boy seemed to pull himself to his feet and soon after Guinevere found herself rattling off the years of impromptu lessons her own father had given her. It all felt well rehearsed. Well worn. Comfortable. And It was soon clear to her that Merlin had forgotten a few key pieces of the Prince's armor. For one, the gambeson, hauberk, and tunic with the Prince's sigil were all missing. All Merlin had brought was the pauldron, gorget, and the vambrace. And of course, the helmet.

No matter, she would simply have to describe the missing pieces as best as she could. So, Guinevere stood Merlin in the middle of the room and one-by-one explained each piece of armor that the Prince would have to wear that morning.

"First the gambeson-" She began.

"What's that?" His voice was a little squeaky, probably from nerves.

Guinevere handed him the pauldron and gorget together. "The gambeson is that padded coat, right? You put it on first so none of the armor accidentally cuts into the Prince's skin."

He took the armor from her hands, frowning. "Funny how you have to protect yourself from your own armor."

"I guess." She hadn't really seen it that way.

"Anyway." Guinevere continued. "On top of that padded coat - the gambeson - right?"

"Gam-be-son." He repeated.

"Good, so, on top of that goes the hauberk. The hauberk is that big coat of chainmail, remember? You didn't bring that one either, though."

"Sorry." He bowed his head a little.

"Don't worry, don't worry." Guinevere tried to reassure him. She certainly didn't want to discourage the boy. "So to review…" And she nodded at him.

Merlin stared at her for a moment, silent, then- "Oh! Yeah, yeah. Ahm, the gambeson on first."

"Why?"

"To protect the person in the armor."

"Yes! And then?" She prompted.

"The hauberk?"

"See? You're doing great." Guinevere took the pauldron and gorget from his hands and slowly eased it onto his right shoulder, fingers going to the leather straps smooth as silk. A memory in her fingers. It would have been harder to stop from automatically buckling the fastenings.

"Really? Do you think so?"

Her eyes were on the straps but she could hear the smile in his voice. "I do. So, after the hauberk you put that bright red tunic on so everyone knows who the Prince is."

"He's not hard to miss." Merlin muttered.

Guinevere swallowed her grin. "So gambeson, hauberk, tunic. And now, for the best part." And she stood back to survey the pauldron and the gorget that Merlin now wore.

Merlin shrugged a little, probably noticing how heavy and clunky armor actually was. "How do I look?" He asked.

"Exposed." Guinevere picked up the vambrace from the table. "So what you are wearing is the pauldron." And she touched the semi-dome that covered the boy's shoulder. "And the gorget." Then she tapped the collar that protected Merlin's neck. "So, tell me all of it so far, please."

"Okay, okay." Merlin closed his eyes, thought a moment, mouth a thin line. "I can do this. Ahm, gambeson goes first, it's the big coat. Then the hau- hauberk? The chainmail, right? Then the tunic. Then these things." He nodded down at the armor he now wore. "The pauldron and the gorget." He pointed at his shoulder and then at his throat.

"Wonderful!" Guinevere darted forward and began attaching the vambrace to Merlin's right arm. As she was fastening the leather straps, she ended up tugging on Merlin's sleeve, pushing it back, revealing a few well-made bruises. Dark and purple. "Where did you get these?" She asked. Though, she had a good idea how he had gotten them.

"Hmm?" Merlin looked down to where she pointed. "Oh, those. Arthur."

Guinevere recalled seeing the two of them out in the training fields, sparring. "I see." She nodded. "Don't worry, the more practice you get, the more likely you'll be to knock him on his royal- Well, you know."

"Arse?" He offered

"Yes."

"Thanks, Guinevere." She had just finished fastening the vambrace in place and Merlin lifted his arm to inspect it. "And this is?"

"The vambrace, it covers the lower arm and the forearm, with a bit of a joint at the middle to protect the elbow. It goes on the dominant arm, the attacking arm, as extra protection. Since the other arm has the shield on it." She folded her arms and looked Merlin over. "Usually. Don't forget the shield."

"Right, so…" Merlin trailed off for a moment, then soon began to list everything she had taught him so far. "Gambeson, hauberk, tunic, pauldron, gorget, and then…" He waved his armored arm around a little. "The vambrace?"

"Yes." She smiled. "Just one more piece to remember."

Merlin frowned, his smile vanishing. "What have I forgotten?"

"You haven't." Guinevere took the helmet from the table and handed it to the boy. "I guess you know what to do with the helmet."

He took it. "Ahm, yeah. Yeah, that was the only bit I'd figured out." And placed it on his head.

Guinevere giggled a little. He looked quite...intimidating? Well, if by intimidating she meant in danger of falling over and not being able to get up by himself, then yes. Something like that.

Merlin sighed and shrugged. "How come you're so much better at this than me?"

"I'm the blacksmith's daughter." She answered, giving him one more glance to see if she had missed anything. Everything looked correct. "I know pretty much everything there is to know about armor, which is actually kind of sad." It was useless knowledge for a maid.

"No, it's brilliant!" His voice echoed around inside of the helmet he wore.

She smiled. "Thanks, Merlin."

Merlin kicked at the door before him, as gently as he could really, and called out. "Hullo, Gwen-...nevere. Ahm, are you in?"

A minute later the door whooshed open, stirring Guinevere's hair, and it floated around her wide eyes. "What's the matter? Is everything alright?"

"Oh!" Merlin shifted the pack on his back a little, arms beginning to ache. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to thank you, for earlier, I mean. And Gaius almost caught me. Can I come in? Have you have dinner, also?"

She was quiet for almost a whole minute but her mouth opened and closed a few times. Finally, Guinevere stepped back to let him in. "Please, uh, come in."

"Thanks!" Merlin's bag clanked as he stepped over the threshold. He set it down as carefully as he could but it still made quite a bit of noise. "I asked about and they said you went home after the tournament. Are you hungry? I brought dinner? It's just Gaius's cooking, though. Sorry." And he opened the bag and brought out the cloth napkin he had stuffed with roasted root vegetables and salted pork that Gaius had cooked up for dinner. He set it on the table.

"Umm, Merlin?"

"Hmm?" Merlin looked up from pulling the rest of his things out of his pack.

He had piled his chores that Arthur had asked him to do in there and brought them over. Since Gaius had caught him doing them with magic, it made sense to do it all here. Guinevere wouldn't mind, probably.

Guinevere still stood by the door, but she had closed it now. "I'd like you to meet my father."

A man sat at a small table on the other side of the room. Merlin saw the bowl in front of him. He had been eating. But he had stopped. And he was staring at Merlin.

Whoops. Merlin swallowed hard and got up from his crouch. "Oh, hullo!" He strode across the room, past Guinevere, and to her father, holding out his hand. "I'm Merlin. I'm a bit new here."

The man, who was quite tall and not entirely friendly-looking, looked at Merlin's hand, then up into his face. He was a big fellow. Big in the sort of way that he could probably rip Merlin's arms off. And he looked like he was thinking about it. But soon the man's face eased into a smile, then a grin, then he took Merlin's hand and shook it warmly, standing up from his seat. His entire hand completely enveloped Merlin's.

"Well, it certainly is nice to meet you, Merlin. Welcome to Camelot. I was just on my back to my forge to finish up a few things for the night." He grabbed a coat and pulled it on. "You two enjoy dinner." And he slipped outside and into the evening.

"So." Merlin turned back to Guinevere. "He seemed nice." He was actually quite relieved to meet another friendly person. They were few and far between here in Camelot.

Guinevere's face was in her hands and when she finally looked up her cheeks were really red. "He thinks- Oh god's teeth!" And she covered her face with her apron.

Merlin frowned. "What does he think?"

"Nothing!" Guinevere came over and sat at the little table they had sat at earlier in the day. "Th-thank you for bringing me dinner. I hadn't had the chance to eat yet."

Merlin walked back to his pack and sent a smirk her way. "Don't thank me just yet. Gaius cooked it."

Guinevere laughed a little and wiped her eyes. She was still really red.

Merlin set down the little bundle of food he had brought along with a loaf of brown bread that he had filched from the kitchens. Gaius had already sent him on a few midnight raids of the kitchens when the old physician was hungry during a long night when they were up late making remedies or treating patients. Gaius had said it was allowed. So Merlin just went along with it.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, eyeing her again. Maybe she didn't feel well. "Are you sick? You're really red." He unwrapped the food.

"Yes, yes!" Guinevere nodded. "I'm fine. Really fine. I'm fine!"

They began to eat. Merlin chewed silently, staring into the little hearth fire that crackled away merrily in the small house. It had been a long day. And he still had so much to do. Especially since Gaius had interrupted him when he-

"So what's at that for?"

Merlin looked down his pack, which Guinevere was pointing at with a crust of the brown bread.

"Oh." Merlin popped a chunk of roasted turnip into his mouth and reached down. He undid the rest of the clasps and a few things spilled out onto the dirt floor: the Prince's shield, his bright red cloak, his helmet, his boots, and his extremely fine sword. And amongst all that, a large, darkly bound book as well.

She eyed the items, a moment passed, then she looked back up at Merlin. "Why do you have these?"

Merlin chewed a moment, working his way through a particularly stale part of the bread, and swallowed. "Gaius. He almost caught me- well, he walked in when I was…" He lowered his voice. "Using magic to do my chores."

"Merlin!" Guinevere hissed. She sounded angry, but Merlin knew she wasn't. She was smiling. And she lightly hit his arm. Very lightly.

Merlin grinned. He wasn't really ashamed, but he felt he should look it, so he lowered his head. "Just a little bit."

"That's very dangerous." Guinevere sighed. "Wish I could do it though." She added afterward, softly, like she was talking to herself.

"Oh, I could show you." Merlin leaned down and picked up his tome of magic that Gaius had given him. He could barely bear to be parted from it during the day and had been reading it hungrily each night until his daily candle ration ran out of wick. "In here." He opened the book, turning pages. "There's spells for everything-"

But Guinevere had taken both sides of the book and slammed it shut, almost crushing Merlin's fingers. "Hush!" She wasn't red anymore. She was pale. "Merlin, you can't just- You can't do that. Not here. Not anywhere."

"Gwen-"

But she shook her head, hands falling away from the book. "You can't."

Merlin almost laughed. He was confused. Wouldn't she want to, of all people, want to know more about magic. "But Guinevere, what's the point of having it if you don't use it."

Guinevere looked a lot smaller right now. She looked tired. Hunched over. "I'm sorry. It's dangerous."

"It's okay." Merlin opened the book again. "I promise. Here, I'll show you a little. Just a little."

A pause. "Just a little."

"Just a little." He repeated.

"Just for a moment."

"Really quickly." He turned to the right page. Then Merlin looked to the boots and the brush he had brought with him. Gave them a meaningful look. Hissed a few weird words. And the boots rose into the air, along with the brush, and the brush began to polish the leather boots. The bristles softly scraping the leather was the only noise in the little house.

A few minutes passed. And Guinevere finally spoke. "It's...it's quite...wow." But she kept glancing toward the windows. Finally, she got up and closed the curtains.

"That's nothing. I was doing five things at once earlier."

Guinevere whirled around. "Really?"

"Yeah."

She smiled, it was a small one, but still a smile. "I bet you're bragging."

"I'm not." He laughed. And within a minute or so, the dents in the shield were being hammered out, the cloak was washing itself, the helmet was polishing itself along with the boots, and the sword was sharpening itself.

Guinevere just stood there, mouth open, eyes moving from one enchanted chore to the other. "How did you learn to do all this?" She walked back to her chair and sat down again.

"From the book."

"Where did you get it?"

The mouthful of bread in his mouth turned a little sour. What should he say? Merlin chewed quickly and swallowed. He didn't want to tell Guinevere that Gaius gave it to him, because, well, if something happened… He didn't want Gaius to be blamed. It was better if no one knew that Gaius "knew". Merlin forced a smile and shrugged. "Found it."

Guinevere had been smiling, watching the boots polish themselves, but now she turned, smile turned crooked, to face him. "Found it where?"

"Around."

Terrible lie. Would it really be so bad to tell the truth?

Guinevere laughed a little. "No really, where did you find it? Knowledge like this, it's all been lost for a long time, hasn't it?"

Merlin shrugged again. "I-" Cleared his throat, choking on his lies. "I've got a spell in there to do-" He looked around the small house. Spotted some sewing in the corner, sitting on a stool, the bone needle gleaming dully in the firelight from across the room. "To do sewing, wanna see?"

Guinevere frowned and followed his eyes, looking to the sewing in the corner. "Oh no, that's alright." She shrugged. "I can do my own sewing."

"I'll show you."

"No, it's-"

Merlin stared at the sewing across the room, hissed a little, and the tunic rose into the air, needle moving in and out of it. "There, easy."

He watched Guinevere tip-toe over to the sewing, she walked around it, looking at it from all angles. "Amazing." She sighed.

"What other chores do you have?" Merlin giggled.

Guinevere shook her head but he could see she was smiling. "Nothing for tonight. But thank you, I think." She crossed her arms. "You'll have to show me how to do that."

He closed the book again. "Definitely." He couldn't hide the grin.

Guinevere stretched and yawned. "Sorry, but-"

Merlin stood quickly. "Should I go?" He had probably annoyed her long enough. "I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's-"

"Sorry." He began grabbing all the enchanted objects out of the air.

She began doing the same thing, gathering the cloak and helmet. "Really, it's okay, I just-"

And they knocked into each other again as they were stuffing the chores back into Merlin's satchel, each item twitching and hopping a little with residual magics. Half the stuff fell onto the floor.

Merlin laughed and began to pick it all up again.

Guinevere stepped again. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Merlin finished packing up his bag. "Thanks." And he smiled, smiled without thinking about it, smiled without helping it. He couldn't help it.

Guinevere smiled back. "Shall I see you at the lists tomorrow?"

Lists? That word sounded familiar. Merlin thought back to the Prince's hurried lessons during their sparring practice. Oh, the lists! Where the tournaments were. "Ahm, yes. Yeah, definitely."

"Good luck." Guinevere stepped forward and opened the door for him.

Merlin nodded. "Thanks." Almost walked through the doorway, thought better of it, and stepped back inside. "I guess I'll see you too, then?"

"Yes." She nodded slowly. "Yes, I'll be with the Lady Morgana."

"Right, right." He sighed and stepped out again. "G'night, Guinevere."

"Get some sleep, Merlin."

One, two,... Guinevere counted softly. Three… And where was four? There had to be at least four. She frowned. Pushing aside a bit of hay. Ah! There was four. She gently wiped the egg on her apron. She and her father owned seven fat, little chickens and they had better be laying. Because she fed them well enough. She had even built them a little coop out of wattle and daub.

And there was number five. She snaked her hand into the nest a little further and brushed a few downy feathers off the egg. Slipping the fifth egg into her apron pocket, she began to look for the sixth one, if there was one. And hopefully, a seventh. She squinted in the half-light of evening as she searched.

The tournament had ended hours ago but she was still reliving it in her mind's eye. True, it was a test of strength and skill, and violence was the point of it all. But still…

She shuddered, thinking back to poor Sir Ewan.

Guinevere soon found the sixth egg and set to finding the seventh.

The poor boy had collapsed after fighting with a visiting knight, then had been dealt a finishing blow. From where she had been sitting with the Lady Morgana, it seemed as though Sir Ewan had some sort of fainting spell. He had just crumpled to the ground without so much of a scratch. Strange.

Guinevere sighed. She couldn't find the seventh egg anywhere. It was probably hidden. At least one of her hens had taken to hiding eggs. Or at least, laying them in odd places.

Perhaps Sir Ewan had overexerted himself. Perhaps it had been the heat. Some people fainted from that. But it hadn't been very hot today. She instinctively shook her head, trying to shake away the scene in her mind. But she couldn't.

She reached and reached, fingers touching the back wall of the coop. Nothing. Perhaps there wasn't a seventh egg.

He collapsed and did not get up. What could cause that?

Finally, her fingers over something smooth and hard.

Instead of a fainting spell, or some hidden wound, Sir Ewan looked more like someone who had taken something poisonous. Eaten the wrong mushroom or berry. He had vomited into the dirt of the arena.

Guinevere drew back, pulling the little egg with her. Speckled and thick-shelled. She smiled.

Yes, some kind of poison maybe. Given to him before the tournament. Or during.

Her grip slipped.

Maybe through food. Or an open wound.

Crack!

Guinevere looked down on the broken egg on the ground before her. She was ready to curse, but held it back. Her mother had always mentioned not crying over broken eggs. They were broken and that was that. Might as well take this chance to read them.

She squat down, the six eggs clicking and rolling in her apron pockets, sounding very much like her joints. And leaning in, she examined the yolk of the broken egg. Her mother said things could be read in eggs. The future. The present. Good news or bad news. The yolk had broken though so it was running in a little rivulet. Long and thin.

Poison could be fed through an open wound. Or a bite.

The yolk flowed into the shape of a snake.

Guinevere blinked. Something fell into place.

She had to tell Gaius. Tell him something was wrong about all of this. Guinevere stood from her crouch and took her six eggs inside, leaving the broken one there. Supper would have to wait. Her Da would understand. Took off her apron, tossed it on the table, and swung outside.

Sir Ewan hadn't looked like a wounded knight, he had looked very much like a man bitten by something, perhaps a snake. Guinevere had seen it before. Or at least, her mother had.

The streets of the town were becoming empty, but not quite yet. She dodged inbetween people on their way home, or on the way to the tavern. Striding, making her way uphill, up to the castle. Finally, she slipped into the physician's chambers.

"Gaius?" She closed the door behind her. "Gaius?"

No answer.

Guinevere spotted the unconscious Sir Ewan, lying on one of Gaius's spare beds. He looked terrible, even from a distance. Guinevere closed that distance, passing by a pile of the Prince's armor on a table. So, Merlin had been here. Guinevere knelt by Sir Ewan's side and looked him over. He was paler, and sweating. His body was very still, but his breaths rattled. He was having trouble drawing a full breath. It wasn't long before Guinevere noticed his neck. How could she not? It was a swollen, red, and bruised mess, with two puncture wounds in the middle of it all, though she had to squint in the dim firelight to see them. She sat back.

So it was a snake, or something like a snake. But how could-

"Hello?! Who's there?" Gaius appeared from the back room. "Gwen?"

Guinevere got to her feet, grimacing. "I wanted to see how he was."

"Yes." Gaius nodded but the old man turned away and begun to fuss with the fireplace, poking the embers.

"These two marks on his neck, I think-"

"A snakebite, perhaps? That's what I thought too."

"What else could it be?" Guinevere stared down at the knight, who wheezed with every breath. Her heart twisted a little. Something about that fight had not been fair.

"It's certainly very strange. And for the life of me, I can't think of how to treat him save with an antidote." And Gaius sat down in a nearby chair, the old thing squeaking with his weight. He sighed.

Guinevere looked around. "Where's Merlin?"

"Oh, off somewhere. Probably chores." A pause. "He was in a hurry."

She frowned, thinking back to the tournament hours before, staring into the little fireplace. Sir Valiant had snakes on his shield. A bit of it a leap, but Sir Ewan had been fighting him when he fell prone. Perhaps Sir Valiant had some sort of poison on his blade. Or something to prick an enemy with, covered in snake venom. Perhaps.

She looked back to Gaius again, who shrugged.

"It looks like a nadder's bite." Guinevere offered.

Gaius sighed. "Thank you, I noticed."

"Stithe leaves boiled in water and left to sit might help…" Guinevere swallowed. "Might help with the swelling."

"Stithe?" Gaius got up from his chair.

"Nettle, stinging nettle. Sorry, that's what my mother used to call it. Stithe."

But Gaius smiled. "Then it must be one of the old words. I remember now, thank you."

She nodded and moved towards the door, putting her hand to the latch. "I'll go find Merlin, we'll be back."

He waved a hand. "Yes, yes, do make sure he isn't getting himself into trouble again."

Guinevere slipped back out into the corridor and stood there a moment. Where would Merlin go? She wasn't sure. But she knew where she would go. Heart pounding, Guinevere set off into the castle. Her soft shoes were silent and certainly no one could hear her over the gentle hissing of the torches in every corridor. She moved closer and closer to the guest chambers, ascending a staircase, tip-toeing past an open door, and finally rounding a corner.

Something solid.

Guinevere fell back, hard, onto her behind. Ow.

She gasped a little at the pain, trying to stay silent. She began to apologize for her clumsiness.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. Are you hurt? I wasn't looking- I'm sorry!"

Merlin stood over her, ears bright red.

Guinevere smiled and held a hand out to him.

"Oh, right, sorry." And he grasped her hand in his, pulling her to her feet.

"Thank you."

"Are you hurt?"

"Just a little bruised. I was looking for you."

His eyebrows rose into his hair. "Me?" He was panting a little. Had he been running? And Merlin began to walk away, back the way Guinevere had just come.

"Yes." Guinevere followed him. "I had an idea." And she lowered her voice even more, leaning towards Merlin as they walked. "About Sir Ewan." They seemed to be going back to Gaius's chambers.

"Mmmm" Merlin nodded, looking over his shoulder, walking a little faster.

Guinevere struggled to keep up. She looked over her shoulder. Nothing was there. "Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"What's going on?"
"Oh, nothing." His voice was mostly a squeak.

Guinevere leaned in again. "Is this about, perhaps, the knight that fought against Sir Ewan?"

Merlin stayed silent. But he nodded, eyes wide.

Guinevere felt a little thrill. She had been right. She must have been. Something else was going on here. "I thought so." She murmured.

"Yeah."
Guinevere glanced around. She hadn't seen any servants or guards for a while. Good. She took the sleeve of Merlin's tunic and gently pulled him towards an alcove. "Merlin." She whispered. "What is going on?"

"Snakes." Was all Merlin said.

She nodded. "Yes, we guessed that. But how? Did you see?"

"Yes."

"Well?"

"I don't think he saw me."

"The knight?"

"I hope he didn't." She saw Merlin stick his head out of the alcove and look up and down the corridor.

"The snakes." Guinevere reminded Merlin. "Tell me."

"Oh, he's got some." Merlin swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing.

"And?"

"They're in his shield."

She snorted. "Well, yes, they are painted on, but-"
"No." Merlin shook his head. "There are real, live snakes in his shield. The painted ones, they come alive."

"Sorcery." Guinevere sighed.

"Sorcery." Merlin groaned.

RESEARCH NOTES

Hello again, here are some notes on the random things I ended up researching.

1.) Reading Eggs: Divination is possible anywhere, in any object. In my research, I found some precedent in Ancient Greece for telling fortunes with egg yolks. If the yolk formed a certain shape, a fortune would be based on that. Guinevere uses this process in a more intuitive way, since magic does actually exist in this world.

2.) Nadder: The term "nadder" is an archaic reference to an "adder", a type of snake. At some point, the "n" was dropped and "nadder" became "adder". Another example of this is the word "apron", which used to be "napron".

3.) Adder's Bite: The snakes in Valiant's shield are magical, but just for a reference point, I made them the Common European Adder (Vipera berus) since it would have populated the area at the time. The symptoms of an adder's bite are as follows: pain at bite site; swelling, redness, and bruising at bite; nausea and vomiting; itchy and/or lumpy rash; breathing difficulties due to swelling lips, mouth, and/or throat; mental confusion; dizziness; fainting; and irregular heartbeat. I tried to incorporate some of these symptoms and keep the original ones listed in the show.

4.) Stithe or Stinging Nettle: Stiðe, or as I wrote it phonetically, Stithe, is an Old English word for Stinging Nettle. Stinging Nettle, or Urtica dioica, is a common plant on many continents and in several biomes. This includes the UK. The Stinging Nettle's claim to fame is its tendency to deliver a stinging sensations whenever someone is unlucky enough to just brush against it.

5.) Properties of Stinging Nettle: The Stinging Nettle had been used medicinally for quite a while for a wide range of ailments. Reportedly, one of its properties is that it can be an antihistamine. This would, theoretically, help with any swelling a patient may be experiencing. (Of course, I'm no doctor.)