Mithian, carrying a sword, walked onto the training field dressed in a plain white tunic and brown trousers .The princess turned the blade from side to side as it glistened in the summer sunshine. She attempted to familiarize herself with the foreign weight and feel of the weapon. The spacious, green field was littered with weaponry and occupied by Arthur and a few of his knights whom eyed her curiously as she passed.

"Where are you off to?" Arthur asked, wiping sweat from his brow before reaching for a mace.

"I'm going to meet my instructor for some practice in swordplay," she answered cheerily. "If I'm ever caught in skirmishes again than I want to be able to defend myself."

"Who might your instructor be?"

"Merlin."

Arthur nearly dropped his mace and he swung his head back, laughing loudly. His laughter rang out, echoing across the wide, open field, and was accompanied by a few snickers from Elyan and Percival.

Mithian thrust her sword into the soil and then placed her hands on her hips, gazing at the men with the same disapproval that a mother would express toward her naughty children.

"Merlin is a fine swordsman," she said firmly. "And I'm certain that I will greatly benefit from his teachings."

Arthur was red faced and gasping by this point. "He can hardly handle a blade without stabbing himself in the foot."

She picked up her sword, heading further up the field. "We shall see, my lord."

A chorus of laughter echoed as she departed.

Gwaine lay in the grass crossed-legged with his hands folded under his head, enjoying the way the sunlight warmed his bare chest. Merlin was sprawled out beside him, lying in a similar position. The two friends decided to take a break from sparring.

The knight tilted his head, squinting in the bright light.

"Is that your woman?" he asked, spying the princess in the distance.

"My what?" his friend sputtered dumbly, looking up.

"You heard me."

"No. We're just friends."

Gwaine glanced over at him, smiling wickedly. Merlin frowned as he sat up and reached for the blue tunic that lay beside him.

"Don't start."

"You just seemed to be a little extra courteous."

"I'd do the same for anyone. You know that."

"Maybe," Gwaine said, settling back down. "But I wouldn't be in such a hurry to put your shirt back on. She might like what she sees."

"Shut up." Merlin stood up fully dressed, dusting dirt and bits of grass off his tunic. "Speaking of shirts, why don't you put yours on and go back to training with the prat?"

"Alright, alright," he said, laughing. "Just take some advice from a friend who knows a great deal about women. I can always tell when a woman wants a man, and she wants you. By the way, the topless routine always works."

"Will you shut up?"

The knight gathered his sword and tunic, leaving his blushing friend behind. He managed to stifle his laughter long enough to greet the princess when she passed by.

"Hello, Merlin," she said, smiling as she approached him.

"Good morning, princess," he said, returning her smile. The young warlock knelt and picked up his sword. "Are you ready?"

Mithian positioned herself into a fighting stance, lifting her sword.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Her enthusiasm made him smile. "Let's begin."

They practiced their general routine of beats, parries and hard blocks. Sweat trickled down her brow causing her dark locks to cling to her flushed cheeks as she blocked his blows.

"Mind your stance," he advised before she caught him off guard with a wide swing, causing him to stumble backward. She dropped her sword and reached out to steady him.

"There's no courtesy in fighting, Mithian. You can never let your guard down, but thank you."

"I know," she breathed, smiling.

He returned her smile. "Let's take a break for now."

They sat down in the grass, sharing a water skin.

"You're doing well," Merlin said, breathing heavily. He brushed his sweat soaked hair away from his forehead, unknowingly shaping his hair into a cowlick. Mithian burst into laughter, nearly knocking over the water skin that lay beside her. He eyed her strangely.

"You look ridiculous," she said, giggling. Piggish snorts escaped her lips causing her to cover her face in embarrassment. "My laugh is horrid. I'm like a squealing piglet."

Now it was Merlin's turn to laugh. He reached out, pulling her dainty hands away from her reddened face.

"At least you're a very attractive piglet."

"Yes," she said, ruffling his hair. "And your cowlick is quite becoming."

A startling realization struck him. He was flirting with the princess of Nemeth, and she was flirting in return. Maybe Gwaine was right about there being a spark of an unspoken attraction between them. He quickly put the thought out of his head because it didn't matter. She was a princess, and he was the bastard son of a peasant.

"What's the matter?" she asked, noting how his expression darkened.

"Nothing", he said a bit too quickly.

"I don't believe you." She stood up, pulling him with her. "But maybe a swim will help brighten your mood. I know of a creek not far from here."

The princess took his hand but he pulled back. "I can't."

"You're going to let your piglet wander through the forest alone."

"I'm serious, Mithian", he said, gazing at her intently. "We can't do this. It's unseemly. I don't want to harm your reputation. Your potential suitor wouldn't want …."

"But yet you will encourage a king to marry a blacksmith's daughter," she interrupted coolly. "Is that not unseemly?"

He winced at her words, but she didn't enjoy the small victory.

"That's different. You know it is."

She bowed her head sadly. "I have always done the proper thing. It's what others expect of me."

He lifted her chin, making her look at him. His gentle blue eyes captured her gaze.

"Then why risk it all for the sake of a servant?"

"I don't care if you're a servant."

"But others do."

"When did you begin to worry about what others thought?" she asked heatedly, pulling away from him. But she departed before he could answer, leaving him to stand in the field and watch as the growing distance between them caused her lithe form to grow smaller with every stride.

Merlin scowled at the full tankard of mead set across from him on the worn, wooden table in the tavern. The sounds of laughter and clanking cups echoed around him but he paid little heed to it all.

"I don't know why I let you talk me into this," he said sourly, glancing over at Gwaine as his friend helped himself to a third tankard.

"No matter what a court physician says," the knight shouted merrily. "Mead is the remedy to cure all ills. Good mead and beautiful women are two things a man can't live without."

"Yes," Merlin grumbled. "I managed to gain one out of the two."

Gwaine set his half empty tankard onto the table and then reached over to ruffle Merlin's hair.

"I told you to use the topless routine. It never fails. Now we'll have to face extreme measures to get your woman back."

He shoved his hand away, patting down his hair.

"There is no we."

The young warlock watched in amazement as his friend downed the tankard's remaining contents in what seemed like scarcely a minute. Golden droplets trickled down his dark beard, but then he brushed them away with the back of his hand.

"Nothing can come of this because I'm … "

"No. I won't hear anymore rubbish about you thinking you're aren't good enough," Gwaine interrupted. "Trust me on this one. Just show up by the creek tonight, and I'll take care of the rest."

The moonlight guided Merlin through the forest's winding paths leading him to the glistening creek. He spied a large wicker basket covered with a red cloth lying on a patch of rocky soil. If Gwaine had left the basket for him then he could easily guess what was inside. He pushed the cloth aside to reveal a bottle of red wine, bright green apples, several white candles and two silver goblets sitting on top of a dark blue blanket. Apples were his friend's third greatest and alcohol came before it. The thought brought a smile to his lips as he emptied the basket. He spread out the blanket and then set the candles in the dirt using magic to light them. After he set out the wine-filled goblets, there was nothing left to do but wait. He watched a few fire flies hover above the creek before flying off into the forest's depths. The night air was warm and a bit humid thus making the flowing water appear twice as inviting.

Mithian emerged from the shadowed foliage clothed in an olive green dress.

"How lovely," she cried in delight. Her dark eyes shone in the flickering candle light as she sat down beside him on the blanket.

She fidgeted with her dress, giving unnecessary attention to what few wrinkles existed. Her mind drifted back to what took place in the afternoon while Merlin regarded her quietly, lost in his own thoughts.

"About what happened earlier…?"

"Let it be water under the bridge," he interrupted, handing her a goblet.

She thanked him and accepted it, gazing at the surrounding candles momentarily before meeting his gaze.

"But what does this all mean?" she asked, gesturing around them with her free hand. "I need to know where we stand. You were against the idea of us being together before."

"A good friend helped me see things differently," he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I see," she answered thoughtfully, beginning to smile. "So I take it this means we are courting now?"

"If you will have a servant….?"

"Of course I will."

She sipped her wine daintily, enjoying the smooth, rich flavor as the liquid washed over her taste buds. The tingling warmth traveled from her head down to her toes, making her smile contently while she gazed at Merlin. His eyes seemed bluer and far more captivating when accented by the flickering candlelight and the soft, silvery moon light shining above in the dark star filled canopy of night. They sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the wine and each other's company.

Merlin wasn't quite sure how it happened. Maybe it was the wine pulsing through their veins that caused such a lapse in sensible judgment? But somehow he and the princess of Nemeth plunged into the creek, swimming, splashing and laughing like children. He still felt the giddy rush when he emerged from the water to clumsily chase after Mithian as she clambered onto the shore. The dirt molded against his bare feet like clay while he continued to pursue her, only to fall onto the picnic blanket because he tripped over an apple core. The young warlock landed square on his bum, laughing foolishly. He laid there, heart racing while water trickled down his half -naked body. His trousers were rolled up to his knees and at the moment he hadn't the slightest inkling as to where his tunic might be.

She stopped before reaching a winding path that led further into the forest when she noticed he was no longer behind her. Then she turned back toward the creek, spying him sprawled out on the blanket, surrounded by a few half eaten apples and an empty wine bottle. Mithian scowled at the glistening bottle in disappointment and then made her way toward Merlin. The princess staggered forward, laughing at nothing in particular. She decided that he would make a comfy chair so she straddled him, letting her arms hang loosely over his shoulders. Her stringy, wet hair clung to her face and neck. The white shift dress stuck to her lithe body just like a second skin, highlighting every dip and curve. And her pale green corset was all that provided any semblance of modesty. A pleasurable heat spread throughout his body, and he nearly groaned when she pressed herself against his bare chest. She gently tugged at his ears with a mischievous smile that made him blush.

"Your ears are glorious," she cooed, turning her attention to his jaw to trail a single finger over his pale skin. "And your cheekbones are nearly heavenly. Our children will be beautiful."

"Children?" he sputtered.

But before he could contemplate such things, Mithian leaned in to kiss his jaw then pressed a trail of kisses along his skin until she claimed his full lips. His mind was clouded by lust at this point, and all he could think of was kissing her breathless and letting his hands wander over every inch of her beautiful body.

Gwaine grinned broadly when he greeted his friend in the corridor the next day.

"Did you bed her?"

Merlin sputtered indignantly and nearly dropped Arthur's lunch.

"Gwaine! That's private, and will you keep your voice down? Do you want the entire castle to hear you?"

The knight frowned as he reached for a slice of ham, but Merlin backed away, keeping the tray out of his reach.

"I gave you my prize wine and best apples, and you can't tell me if you got any?"

"Will you be quiet?" his friend hissed as a young servant girl passed by. The tender hearted young man refused to let himself feel guilty. He knew Gwaine`s tricks after all.

"I do appreciate everything you've done for us."

"So did you?" he asked. Clearly the man had a one tracked mind.

Merlin released an exasperated sigh.

"You're not going to let this go are you?"

His friend's devilish smile was a good enough answer. The young warlock glanced from one end of the corridor to the other before stepping closer and leaned to whisper in his ear.

"I knew it!" Gwaine exclaimed, grinning madly. "Toplessness, apples and wine does it every time. Do you know what this means? I have to give you tips for the next time."

"Will you hush?" Merlin whispered, blushing fiercely.

"You know women like it when men …"

"Shut up, Gwaine!"

Merlin briskly headed toward Arthur's chambers before he could offer anymore advice.