CHAPTER 1
Gwaine followed Arthur into the king's rooms. "Sire, you're back! We've been worried sick. Where have you been?"
Arthur threw his pack onto a chair and flopped unceremoniously onto his bed. From behind a pillow his weary voice answered "Hunting."
"You went hunting alone? You're not supposed to be doing that, Sire."
"Believe me, I know," said Arthur.
"Merlin made me swear I'd look after you while he's gone. Do you have any idea what he'll do to me if something happens to you?"
Arthur only groaned in reply.
"Forgive me, Sire. I'll let you rest." Gwaine winced. The word "sire" was still difficult for him to say comfortably. He had lately been making a real effort to speak with due respect to the king, if only for the sake of the younger knights who seemed to watch his every move.
"No, Gwaine, please stay a few minutes. I think I should talk to you. Please sit down." Arthur got up and sat in his chair at the table. Gwaine sat down obediently.
"I just wanted to get out for a while, get some air. Gwen and the ladies have been completely wrapped up in preparations for the holiday feast. They kept asking my opinion about terribly important things like matching napkins to table linens and table linens to centerpieces."
Gwaine groaned.
"And to make things worse, any opinion I foolishly ventured was promptly disregarded. I was in serious danger of going mad. When the idea of hunting occurred to me, it was just too good to resist. I thought I'd slip out for a quiet afternoon in the woods and be back before anyone missed me."
"So what kept you away so long?"
"I got into a bit of trouble, I'm afraid. I had been tracking a deer and I followed it a little further than perhaps was wise. I found myself in a clearing. I had just decided it was time to turn back when an enormous baron wielding a huge ax stepped out of the trees and accosted me. I gave him my best, but he quite honestly beat me. He had me pinned on the ground and I could not move. Then he swung up that mighty ax and I thought that was the end for me."
Gwaine was appalled. Arthur continued.
"But the Baron stopped. He said if I could answer his riddle he'd spare me. What else could I do? I agreed to try. I must return to meet him in the woods on New Year's Day. If I answer correctly I'll go free. If not..."
Neither of the men considered any idea of the king simply refusing to return on the appointed day. Arthur had given his word, and Gwaine knew he would keep it.
"We must find the answer to this riddle," said Gwaine. We've almost two weeks. Surely we can find it by then."
Arthur groaned and rested his head on his folded arms on the table.
"What is the riddle, Sire?"
"It is (and I quote): 'Bring me word what thing it is that a woman most desires'."
It was Gwaine's turn to slump onto the table. "Oh no," he said.
CHAPTER 2
"Guinevere, I need to ask you a question."
"What is it, Arthur?"
"What thing do you desire most?"
"Whatever can you mean?"
"I mean, what thing do you want most of all?"
"Are you not feeling well?"
"I'm fine. I'd just like to know your answer."
"To what?"
"To the question."
"What question?"
"What do you desire most?"
"Oh."
"There must be something you can say."
"You've been working so hard. I insist that you to lie down. There, that's better."
"Please, Guinevere?"
"You don't have a fever. That's good."
"Can't you give me some kind of answer to the question?"
"I'm afraid I still don't understand."
"More than anything else in the world, what thing do you most desire?"
"I can't imagine what to say to that. What thing do you most desire?"
"You, my dear."
"Oh Arthur..."
Gwaine had gathered a dozen of the youngest knights for a special assignment. As they stood in the armory looking at him expectantly, Gwaine realized he was actually beginning to sweat. Best to get this over with, he thought.
"Men, you will be performing a special duty for the king. It is of utmost importance, and you will be sworn to secrecy about who has set you to this task. You will also be forbidden to reveal your identity as a knight of Camelot." At these words the young men looked genuinely excited. "You are to collect a large amount of intelligence from the people of Camelot in a very short period of time."
Gwaine handed a stack of parchment and a supply of charcoal pencils to each of the men.
"You will canvas the upper town, the lower town and most of the outlying villages. The map on the table will show each of you your individually appointed areas. You must each gather a minimum of three hundred responses, and on pain of death you must return by the end of the week."
The youthful energy in the room was almost palpable.
"I don't know how to tell you this, men. I guess I'll just come out with it. For reasons of his own, which are, I assure you, important..." Gwaine's words nearly failed him. "King Arthur wants you to ask the women of Camelot to tell you 'what thing they most desire'."
It only took two threats of insubordination and one reminder that time in the stocks did not help toward swift advancement in the ranks. Ultimately, all twelve of the knights promptly departed toward their assigned destinations. There were a number of unpleasant jobs that were commonly meted out to the youngest of Arthur's men. Gwaine fully recognized that this assignment had just sunk beneath them all.
"May I ask you a question, ma'am?"
"Yes, what is it?"
"What thing is it that you desire most?"
"How dare you! I'll flog you for that, you young, disrespectful..."
"Ow! Wait, I didn't mean... Ow!"
King Arthur and Sir Gwaine spent three days pouring over the survey results, searching for a trend, a common thread, a tangible answer to the riddle. The responses were surprising, amusing, frustrating and sometimes heartbreaking. They were as varied as the women who had given them. And there was absolutely no apparent trend.
"To be loved."
"A good husband."
"To be appreciated."
"A servant."
"A room of my own."
"Spending money."
"A new roof."
"No nagging husband."
"A faithful husband."
"A baby."
"To be left alone."
"A day off."
"Better health."
"Grandchildren."
"I really don't know."
"A better life for my children."
"A little peace and quiet."
"A pantry full of food."
"A good harvest."
"For my husband to come back."
"A stable for these animals."
"A gold necklace."
"A fine dress for feast days."
"I wish I knew."
"To feel young again."
"A mild winter."
"To get the last word once in a while."
On New Year's Eve the king and the knight compiled all of the pages and enclosed them in a sheaf.
"Arthur, I honestly fear the answer we need is not here."
"It must be, Gwaine. We have nearly 4000 of them. Surely one of these must be right."
"I do hope so, since we leave tomorrow at first light. But something tells me we haven't solved this riddle correctly. I feel it in my bones."
"Now you're sounding a bit like Merlin."
"Too bad he's not here."
"And what exactly does Merlin know about women?"
CHAPTER 3
On the morning of New Year's Day, Gwaine and the king departed for the meeting place.
As the two men rode across a moor, they found themselves approaching a lady sitting between an oak and a holly tree. She was clad entirely in scarlet. Her form was slender and maidenly, but as they drew nearer it became clear that the lady's face had been horribly disfigured. Her eyes were misaligned, her crooked nose was turned outward, and her mouth stood foully awry. Neither Arthur nor Gwaine had ever seen a more pitifully formed face. At the sight of her, the men averted their eyes and made to ride past without greeting, but the lady stood up and hailed them.
"My lords, a word if you please!"
Arthur and Gwaine reluctantly reigned in their horses, but neither of them were eager to speak.
"What sort of knight are you, that you will not speak to me? Do not be dismayed by my ugliness, King Arthur Pendragon. I have spoken to you courteously. Though...", she considered them both, "you have not replied at all."
Arthur dismounted, and Gwaine followed his example. "Forgive me, lady," the king said, and bowed low with great deference. "You deserve better than I have acted. I am sorry."
Gwaine bowed too. As he straightened, the lady surprised him by reaching out and for a moment, delicately fingering the pendant that he wore at his neck. Then she took two quick steps backward and abruptly turned away.
After a moment of apparent indecision, the lady took up a veil and pinned it into her hair so that it covered her face. Then she spoke. "It was my hope that you would ride by this way, my lord. I have it in my power to ease your pain. I know the answer to the riddle that worries you."
"Lady," said Arthur, "I would be very grateful to hear what you have to say."
"The Baron is my brother, and I know his riddle well. But... I must ask a price for the answer," said the lady hesitatingly. "A heavy price."
"I am listening," said the king.
"My price is," she inclined her head toward Gwaine, "that this knight who rides at your side must marry me."
"Marry Gwaine?" Arthur had to stifle a laugh. "I am sorry lady. I am afraid I haven't the right to bargain for another man's hand in marriage." The king could not suppress an innocent grin. "Much as the idea does intrigue me." The king had suddenly begun to enjoy this encounter. "Come, lady. Tell us your name."
"I am Dame Ragnelle."
At this name, Gwaine gave such a start that he nearly lost his balance, but Arthur did not notice.
"Could we perhaps discuss some other form of compensation for the answer to the riddle?" Arthur entreated her kindly.
"I fear I must ask this price and none other," said she.
"Sire," said Gwaine most unexpectedly. "Since it is my future that seems to be in question, might I have a word alone with the lady?"
Surprised but amused, Arthur nodded his head. "By all means."
Gwaine took the lady's hand and led her several paces away to stand beside the holly tree.
"I see that you do remember me after all, Gwaine." said the lady quietly.
"Yes, I do," he said. He was not so rude as to ask what had happened to her. It saddened him that she was so different from the pretty, red-haired child he had known over fifteen years earlier. It was clear to him, however, that this unfortunate woman was indeed the same person.
She spoke next. "I honestly didn't know you until I saw the crest that you wear. I recall the day your father gave it to you."
"I did not recognize you," said Gwaine. "I'm sorry." His apology referred to more than his forgetfulness.
"Where have you been, Gwaine? I always thought you would keep the promise that you made to your father, but you never came."
"Everything changed. My father died and everything he had was gone. I have no lands, no house, no money, no people. I had nothing respectable to offer you. I never imagined you'd want me to come back."
"You still have your name. And I have a claim to it. Do you deny this?"
"I can't. It is as you say."
"For the sake of your king, I ask you to be faithful to our parents' arrangement. We both agreed to it once."
Gwaine could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Can I not dissuade you?"
The lady stood motionless, looking at him through her veil.
"I will tell you honestly," he said. "I would be a terrible husband. I bring nothing to the table. I'm not terribly smart. I have few friends. I have no fortune. I cannot provide much at all for you. Living with me would not be pleasant for any lady. The knights tell me I actually stink." At the last he wanted to make her laugh, but she bowed her head.
"I know marriage is a solemn matter," said she, "and not something to trifle with. I know that I ask much of you. But still I must ask it. My house is a worthy one. It is my face alone that will bring shame to the union."
Gwaine suddenly felt pity for the girl.
"A face is a shallow thing to honor or despise. In the long run it's a person's deeds, not appearance nor name, that make the difference. When you look at it that way, I fear I am the one who should be ashamed." He tried to lighten the mood. "And somehow, in spite of everything, Arthur saw fit to curse me with knighthood. I didn't deserve it and I couldn't get out of it." He paused and looked at her. "Destiny seems intent on changing me."
She waited, not speaking.
"Are you sure this is what you want, lady?"
"I am."
It took a long moment, but at last the knight said "Alright then." He led the woman back to stand before Arthur. "My lord, I now give my solemn word that I will marry this lady upon our return to Camelot." He took off his necklace and removed a gold ring from it's place by the pendant.
King Arthur vehemently protested. "Gwaine, I cannot ask this of you. It isn't right!"
Gwaine laughed as he placed his pendant again round his neck. "Why not? Better men than me have laid down their lives for Camelot. You have to admit this is a better deal." He knelt formally. "This ring was my mother's. It is dear to me." He placed it on the lady's finger. "Dame Ragnelle, I now pledge to you my troth."
With surprising emotion the lady whispered. "Thank you, Sir Gwaine." Then, after a moment, she stepped forward to face the king. "Sire, you need only two words to correctly answer my brother's riddle. They are these: HER WILL."
Two hours later the king, Sir Gwaine and the lady arrived at the appointed clearing. The Baron was there, ax in hand, silent and expectant. The party dismounted and approached him.
"Good morning, brother," said the lady.
"Do not hail me so brightly, sister. For your sake I hope you have not been making mischief for me, but I'll wager that you have. You'll regret it."
"Your business is with me, not the lady," said the King. "I have polled my kingdom for you." He held up the sheaf of answers. "I believe I have what you require."
The Baron laughed menacingly and knocked the file from Arthur's hand, sending pages scattering everywhere. "This is no answer. You are mine for the killing!"
"I will solve your riddle," spoke the King firmly. He glanced at Gwaine as if to apologize for the price that had been paid, but stood boldly before the Baron. "You asked what thing it is that a woman most desires. I now answer that it is: 'her will'."
At these words the Baron flew into a rage. "An early vengeance be upon you!" He turned toward his sister. "You misshapen whore! For your interference I will fry you!" At this, his ax blazed red hot and he ran full long at the veiled girl.
The lady screamed and cowered, but Gwaine and the king moved immediately to her aid and a terrible fight ensued. At last Gwaine and Arthur began to best the mighty Baron, but suddenly the girl cried out in anguish. "Don't kill him! Please do not kill him! He is under an enchantment. Destroy the ax and all will be well!"
Upon hearing this, Arthur pinned the Baron's arm to the ground while Gwaine took a mighty swing at the blade of the ax. In an explosion of red flame it shattered, then all was quiet. The lady ran and threw herself down upon her brother's neck.
"Sister?"
"I am here. Are you all right? Please tell me you are all right!"
"Forgive me, sister."
"There is nothing to forgive." The lady lovingly helped the Baron to sit up.
"I must thank you," said the Baron to the other men. "I was doomed to that foul temperament by an enchantment. I could not help myself."
Arthur and Gwaine nodded courteously.
The lady talked with her brother for a long while, as if to reassure herself that he was indeed well. At last she urged him to return to their mother and bring news. "Tell her that I am well. Tell her that I have gone to Camelot." This the Baron promised to do, and they bade each other farewell.
The danger was over, and King Arthur was transparent in his relief as he prepared for the ride home.
The lady waited quietly and watched Gwaine from behind her veil. At length he approached her and held out his hand. "Shall we go?" he asked.
"You mean to keep your promise, then?"
"Of course I do," he said, leading her to his horse. Then he spoke softly, so that only she could hear. "But I have tried to warn you that I'm no catch. I'm sure you can foresee that our sudden marriage will likely come as a shock to many of my aquaintances. Are you quite certain?"
"This must be," she said almost mysteriously, and made no further reply. So he simply helped her astride.
"Let's get home, then," said Arthur, and with that they began the ride toward Camelot.
CHAPTER 4
It was mid-day when the trio arrived at Camelot, and New Year festivities were in full swing. The knights and ladies of the court were enjoying a traditional light lunch, plentiful ale, and the ample talents of a gifted bard. The king, Sir Gwaine and the lady joined the company and were seated among the party-goers. When the musician stopped for a break, Arthur stood and addressed the assembly.
"My friends," said he, "I have an announcement which will come to many as nothing short of a miracle. Tonight, after the New Year's Banquet is served, Sir Gwaine is taking a wife."
There was an uproar of merriment at these words, and a general shouting ensued from the knights. "Who's the unlucky bride?" they wanted to know. "Show us the bride!"
Arthur took the lady's hand and led her gently to the dais. "I would introduce to you Dame Ragnelle." There was a cheer, but then silence reigned as the lady curtsied but remained veiled.
The lady stood looking out at the audience for an uncomfortable moment, and then begged permission to speak. "Lords and ladies," she said in a strong voice, "I am compelled to reveal to you my face. You will see it now, and none will be left in doubt about my nature. Forgive me."
The lady lifted her veil, and there was an audible gasp from the assembly. Many of the ladies turned away in horror.
King Arthur stepped forward and took the lady's arm. "Dame Ragnelle has rendered service to our royal person. She will be most welcome among us." He said this last with a hint of decree in his voice. Then he kissed her hand with great respect and returned her to Gwaine's side.
That evening at the banquet the intoxicants flowed freely. Gwaine, who had long since learned not to overindulge in good company, abstained. The knights, however, drank loudly, and the subject of nearly all discussion was Gwaine's impending marriage. Guinevere, who sat beside the bride, winced at snippets of overheard conversation and endeavored to keep the lady's attention from it.
One fatal conversation, however, was impossible to drown out. Sir Kay, a hotheaded knight who was barely past 20 years old, was heard saying to a crowd of young idiots: "Bed her? Never! He won't so much as kiss her. What man could kiss that?"
A moment later Gwaine tapped the lad on the shoulder, and the room fell silent. "Kay," said Gwaine softly, "what are you saying about my wife?"
Kay was a bit too mirthfully drunk for his own good. "I was saying... that I have my doubts about anyone being man enough for your fine lady."
Gwaine took a firm hold of the lad's chain mail shirt and lifted him unceremoniously off of his bench. "We could talk about your manners," said Gwaine, "but I think I'd rather just teach you some."
It was said later that Kay took the first swing, and that Gwaine took the second. Of a great many. Sir Kay was young, fast and formidably scrappy, but Gwaine was ...Gwaine.
Long before a clear victor could be determined, the fight was broken up by none other than King Arthur. He cast his glare on the entire group of knights. "I am quite honestly disgusted with you. For a little foul sight and misliking you've forgotten all courtesy and paid insult to a lady who has done no wrong to you, and great good to your king." He glanced across the room at the girl, who's head was bowed. "She deserves better."
The banquet resumed, but the feeling of festive merriment was slow to return. An hour later, as the evening's events drew to a subdued climax, the bride and groom were summoned to the dais for the wedding ceremony. Geoffrey performed the handfasting, simple vows were exchanged, and a beautiful blessing was pronounced upon the couple. Then Guinevere and the ladies took the bride away to prepare her for the wedding night.
Sir Percival clapped Gwaine on the back, nearly knocking him over. "Never thought I'd live to see the day," said the big man. "I'm happy for you, Gwaine. Marriage is one of life's greatest blessings." Gwaine punched his friend affectionately and took the cup of mild mead that was proffered. The meaning of Percy's gesture was not lost on him, as he suspected the man had once been a bridegroom. The two stood talking quietly for a little while, but it did not last. Suddenly Leon, Elyan, and a few others appeared, and Percival grew mischievously boisterous. "Let's do this right, men! We've a duty to perform!" Suddenly Gwaine was mobbed by the knights, who lifted him unceremoniously off the ground.
Shouting bawdy blessings the entire way, the knights of Camelot carried Gwaine to the bridal chamber.
CHAPTER 5
Gwaine was tossed into the bridal chamber, but had great difficulty getting the door shut behind him. The exuberant knights were proving quite a hindrance. He had managed to keep both his linen shirt and trousers on during the journey up the stairs, though it had been no small feat. "Get out, you bunch of morons! Let it be!" After bestowing a number of bruises upon his mates' various limbs, the door was finally shut, and Gwaine wasted no time in slamming the bolt into place.
The room was dimly lit by a few candles and the glow of the fireplace. She sat on the floor by the hearth, veiled in white and wearing a delicate sky-blue dressing gown. Gwaine took a few hesitating steps forward. "Lady, I am so sorry for the hurt my friends have done you."
"I am not hurt," she said.
Gwaine sat down beside her. Neither of them spoke. The fire was warm, and they both watched it dance. After a few minutes Gwaine put his arm around her waist so that her back rested against his chest. He waited until she seemed to relax, and then he spoke quietly into her lavender-scented hair. "I wish I could offer you a better life than this." He pulled the hair away from the back of her neck and kissed her there. She sat very still, so he kissed her again. And again.
"Gwaine," she whispered, "you are a man of honor." Then she turned, wrapped her arms around his neck, hugged him tightly, and began to cry.
This was not the reaction Gwaine had been working to achieve. He held this warm, soft, confusing woman in his arms and said the only thing he could think of, which was "Hey, don't cry." For some reason this made the girl laugh, and she laughed through her tears as she clung to him.
Again, this was not the reaction he had been seeking.
The girl let go of his neck and leaned back to peer up at him through her veil. "Gwaine, you have just broken half of a terrible enchantment. Oh, I thank God for you!" She hugged him again and then stood and walked a few steps away. He watched as she unpinned the veil from her hair and slowly, shyly pulled it away from her face.
Gwaine was thunderstruck. The visage that emerged was perfection. It was without doubt the same face, but now everything that had been wrong about it was right. Her eyes sparkled with tears and her entire form radiated with beauty. "You have saved me," she said.
She ran back to him and threw herself into his arms, kissing his face, his neck, his chest. For a moment Gwaine tried to understand what had happened, but when the girl found his lips he was obliged to turn his thoughts to her alone. For the next several hours he lost himself in her joy.
"Gwaine?"
Gwaine slowly opened his eyes. The lady's cheek rested on his breast, and her red-gold hair cascaded across his chest. Heaven, he thought. This is heaven.
"Gwaine, it will be morning soon. I must speak with you before day comes." The lady sat up, pulled on her dressing gown, and walked to the east window. She opened it and stood looking at the horizon. Gwaine, already missing her closeness, pulled on his trousers and went to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
"The enchantment is half gone. But I must still endure the disfigurement half of the time, either by day or by night. A choice must be made before dawn." She turned and peered up at him with a terrible, serious look in her eyes. "Will you have me beautiful when you come home to me by night? Or will you have my better face at daytime to represent you to the world?" She turned away to face the horizon. "You must answer."
Gwaine looked at her for a long moment, then sighed. "That's a quandary. For myself I know what I would choose. I'd have you to myself as you are now. But I know it would be a selfish thing."
She still did not look at him.
At last he put a hand gently under her chin and made her eyes meet his as he spoke. "It is you who must live your life. You make the choice. I'll support it. Whatever you decide," he hesitated, "...I'll love you."
At those words her eyes filled with tears and she buried herself in his embrace. "God bless you, Sir Gwaine," she whispered.
Just then, the first rays of golden sunlight shot through the window, making the lady's hair glow like fire. She went on clinging to him until the room was filled with sun.
"It's morning," said Gwaine at last, looking at his bride. "So you've made your decision then? Beauty by day?"
"No," she said, leaning against him.
"Will you have to change back soon?"
"No," she murmured.
Gwaine was a bit confused.
At last the lady looked up at him adoringly. "You've done it, Gwaine. You've ended the whole enchantment."
"I did?" Gwaine asked, certain he had missed something. "What did I do?"
"You gave me my will."
CHAPTER 6
Sir Kay, who was no longer able to distract himself, had resorted to pacing outside the council room. At last the door opened and the king emerged.
"What is it now, Kay?"
"Sire! It's nearly dark and Sir Gwaine and the lady have not opened their door even once since last night!"
Arthur eyed him. "Kay, please don't take this the wrong way. You're an idiot. What are you thinking? Do you suppose that the lady has murdered him?"
"Of course not, sir!"
"Then why not leave them in peace?"
Kay looked down at his feet. "I need to apologize to the lady, my lord. I'm going to go mad if I can't do it soon."
"Then go and knock on the door, for goodness sake! It might open. Heaven knows it's been long enough. Gwaine will want more than bridal cake for supper, I'll guarantee you that."
"Thank you, my lord!" Kay made a far-too-quick bow, then ran for the stairs.
The bridal chamber door opened just before Kay's fist could make contact, giving the youth a terrible start.
"Kay, what are you doing here? We were just coming out."
"Sir Gwaine, I just want to tell you I'm sorry. My behavior last night was deplorable."
"Who's there?" came the lady's voice.
Kay immediately dropped to his knees and abased himself, bowing his head. "Ma'am, I beg you to forgive my terrible words. I regret all of the hurt I have caused you. To make amends, I pledge to you my service. I promise to defend your honor until the day I die."
Gwaine suppressed a chuckle. "You never do things part-way, do you lad?" He winked at his wife. "What say you, lady?"
Kay remained on the floor, head bowed humbly.
"Sir Kay, I accept your service. I now require that you look upon my face."
Looking up, Kay let out a surprisingly girlish squeak and fell backwards.
Gwaine nearly died laughing. The lady, amused but concerned, helped a gawking Kay unsteadily to his feet.
"That was worth all that came before," said Gwaine. "Are you all right?"
"Y-y-yes," stammered Kay.
"You're far too concerned about appearances, lad. It's something you need to be letting go." Gwaine clapped him on the back. "Come. Kiss my bride, brother Kay, and all will be amended."
The young knight shakily obeyed.
Then Gwaine took his lady's hand. "Shall we go and cause a mild uproar at supper then, wife?"
"Yes, husband," she said, and smiled.
"Cozen Gwaine," sayes Sir Kay, / "Thy chance is fallen arright, / For thou hast gotten one of the fairest maids / I ever saw with my sight."
"It is my fortune," said Sir Gwaine; / "For my unckle Arthurs sake / I am glad as grasse would be of raine, / Great joy that I may take."
Sir Gwaine tooke the lady by the one arme, / Sir Kay tooke her by the tother, / They led her straight to King Arthur, / As they were brother and brother.
King Arthur welcomed them there all, / And soe did Lady Guinevere his queene, / With all the knights of the Round Table, / Most seemly to be seene.
King Arthur beheld that lady faire / That was soe faire and bright, / He thanked Christ in Trinity / For Sir Gwaine that gentle knight.
Soe did the knights, both more and lesse, / Rejoyced all that day / For the good chance that hapened was / To Sir Gwaine and his lady gay.
THE END
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