Lost in Albion 3 (Merlin) - Completed

Chapter 15: The Deep

Chapter 15

Arthur's braying stopped after a few days, thanks to Merlin who extended it for our own entertainment. The King's hair grew back, but I will admit; bald wasn't a bad look on him. Arthur had taken the goblin box, hiding it in a place that even I don't know about. Hopefully not the vaults because people break in there all the time.

Merlin and I remained innocent after the ordeal as nobody else but Gaius new we released it – but I was prepared to throw Merlin under the bus if I was dragged down. It has already provided for a few goods stories that I'm sure I'll keep telling for the next decade of my life, even if Arthur threatens me with the dungeons each time.

I watch from the window as Merlin and Arthur leave to go on a solo hunting trip for a day. They had asked me if I wanted to tag along, but Leon and Castor both had a few days off and they were right in saying I hadn't spent much time with them lately.

Meeting them down in the Square, I hook my arms around their elbows.

"Well, I think we should go for a ride," I suggest. "Ride off the road. See where it takes us."

"Are you suggesting we purposely get lost?" Castor chortles. "Because I'm so up for it."

"I'm not sure if that your best idea," Leon says, concern hinting through. "We might actually get lost."

"I thought you were a tracker," I tease, cocking my head to the side. "Besides, we're not going to go far. And I already have the horses ready."

Leon makes an exasperated face but doesn't argue. As if on cue, another servant leads the horses over. I shrug innocently at him, mounting my mare. Leon shakes his head, curls tumbling around his face as he also mounts his destrier as Castor does the same.

We ride out of Camelot at a slow pace, not bothering with any need for speed so we fill the time with general chatter. We exit the city and the sounds of the people die out until it is only the sounds of the breeze and our voices filling the world. A bubble.

"You saddle," Leon says slowly. I look down at it, smiling. "I've never seen that before."

"Arthur gave it to her," Castor says. I turned to him with raised brows.

"How did you know?"

"Because he asked me to decipher some of your writing," he teases. "You have a messy hand."

"I would have written it neater, but I didn't exactly think someone else was going to be reading it." Leon's eyes flicker back and forth, having no context to the conversation. "It's a different type of saddle, back from my home. I drew it in hopes that one day I could have it made," I say to him. "But Arthur decided to take that into his own hands and stole the picture."

"That was kind of him," he notes. I nod, smiling wider.

"Extremely. Saddles are not cheap, especially one custom made like this." I look away from the boys to the scene in front. "Oh, look. Here we are."

Of course, I wasn't actually leading the boys on a random trail. Castor had picked up on that since he was originally the one to show me, but Leon remained oblivious throughout the entire ride.

A beautiful lake, small enough to see all the edges, but large enough to stretch the capabilities of the eye. The high sun casts a reflection on the soft surface, a small family of ducks the only thing disturbing it. It is almost a scene from a movie. Overhanging branches, water flowers. Even in the cooler Autumn months, the breeze is still warm enough to tempt visitors to wade into its waters.

And I am ever so tempted.

Castor and I dismount, tying the horses off to a tree, but Leon moves slower, taking in the lake for the first time.