A/N: Well, here it is Monday again, time for a new chapter! I want to give a special shout-out to the two Guest commenters, Nance and ddd, who have taken time to post such wonderful comments on this story. Since I can't reply to you directly, I'll just say it here: Thank you very much. Your input has been really encouraging!

For those who posted comments and haven't heard replies from me, I apologize. I recently found a really good book that I've been deeply buried in, and haven't been online much. Bad excuse, I know, but it really is a very good book. Anyways, enjoy!

Chapter 3- A Tour

The mist hadn't lifted much by the time the sun rose the next morning. On reflection by Merlin, it was almost eerie. Fortunately, he had gotten a considerably better night's sleep than what he'd gotten in the woods and was feeling considerably less jumpy. Gwaine's story was beginning to fade into the back of his mind as just that: a story. Once the morning light came out, chasing away the previous night's storm clouds (save the fog that still sat stubbornly over the seaside village) the clouds of fear from Merlin's mind seemed to have been chased away too, and after a good breakfast from Urie, even the idea of a day of nothing but political relations and talks with the councilors of Halen didn't dampen his spirits that badly.

Arthur had denied Merlin's pleas to stay behind whilst Arthur, accompanied by Leon and Gwaine, spoke to the council. Merlin figure it was simply for the fact that Arthur was being his typical early-morning surly self. Merlin would ask again later in the afternoon, when he was sure to get a better reply.

Although Arthur had been prepared to meet with the leaders of the village immediately, it had soon been relayed to him that the councilors would not be set to convene until later this afternoon. This made Arthur slightly annoyed, as Merlin could tell. But it seemed that the leaders of this town worked by their own schedule, one that did not even change for the King of Camelot. Merlin didn't find this too surprising: this far from the center of the kingdom, these people were more used to working without a king than with one. They were less likely to rearrange their schedules for the appearance of a monarch that rarely affected them.

However, Matthew, the man who had led them to the inn the night before, suggested he take the king and his knights (plus Merlin, of course) on a tour of the village. It wouldn't take long, they all knew, but it was better than just sitting in the inn, quietly betting each other how much Gwaine could drink before he told another insanely inappropriate joke (it didn't take that many) and being generally useless.

And, just as expected, there wasn't that much to see.

Halen was slightly larger than Ealdor, where Merlin had been born and raised. And, despite the smell of fish and salt that hung in the clammy air, Merlin didn't find it much different than Ealdor, either. Nowhere near as big as Camelot, the town of Halen consisted of stone or weathered wood buildings practically built into a cliff. The steep, dirt or stone streets led down to the docks, where the fishing vessels owned by the men of the community were tied when not in use. However, on a day like today, most of the vessels were out on the water. The fishermen left early in the morning, explained Matthew, so as to gather as much fish as possible before the sun set and the danger of storms rose.

The view from the top of the cliff was spectacular. Matthew led them up there, and though the path was slick from the fog and the previous night's rain, Merlin was glad for the dangerous hike. He'd never seen anything like this before, and knew he probably never would again.

The view from the top of the cliff was outstanding. The fog had parted slightly by the time the small party reached the lookout point, allowing a clear view of the slate grey ocean that spread out in every direction before them. It was eerily calm today, a silver mirror broken only briefly every so often by the ripple of waves, or a fish jumping. Merlin could just make out the tiny dots of fishing boats off shore, almost too far away to see. The cliffs surrounding the sea were equally impressive, but came with a sharp warning from Matthew.

"These cliffs," the man explained. "Are the death of many fishermen, even the wisest. The sharp rocks at their base can crush a boat in moments, if a hardy wind springs up, or a man isn't cautious about the current. I've seen many a life lost, crushed against these rocks."

"Is that what happened to Maria's husband?" Arthur asked. Matthew's head jerked up in response to the question.

"Where did you hear about that?" he demanded. Arthur's blue eyes gazed steadily at the old fisherman.

"Urie told us, last night. She said he disappeared."

Matthew sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Thomas was my son-in-law," the man replied. "Maria is my daughter. What Urie said is true. Thom disappeared, in the night. Never came back."

"What do you think happened?" Merlin suddenly asked. Arthur glanced at him, but didn't stop his servant from speaking. Matthew shrugged and looked out at the water.

"I'm not sure," he said. "But…." The old man trailed off, as if considering his words. Finally he took a breath.

"He was taken by the sea," he said, but he said it in a way as if he'd been taught to say it, like a parrot. "The whim of the sea."

Arthur opened his mouth to say something, but the man's head snapped up.

"Let me show you the docks," he said, his demeanor completely changing. Merlin narrowed his eyes. He'd seen a similar reaction from Urie last night. As if there was something below this calm veneer, something that no one wanted to discuss, hiding just below the surface. Merlin could feel it, in the back of his mind, a slight warning from his magic, but something he couldn't put off. There was something going on here, but he wasn't entirely sure what. Just his imagination?

A brief movement caught his eye. Merlin glanced down at the rocks below the cliff, which the water, churned into a foam, lapped against. Had he been mistaken, or had he, for just a moment, seeing something dive between those rocks? He squinted and stared at them, trying to see it again, but there was nothing. Just the licking of the sea foam against the dark rocks, turned almost black by the perpetual moisture.

"So, Merlin, you just going to stand here all day then?"

Gwaine's teasing voice broke the black-haired warlock from his trance, and his cerulean eyes snapped up to where everyone else was a few paces away, waiting for him. Merlin glanced down at his boots in embarrassment and ran to catch up with the rest of the party, avoiding meeting Arthur's eyes. He really didn't want to hear what the blonde had to say about his sudden moment of….well, untethered-ness.

"Next time we'll just leave you up here," Arthur told him.

"Yes, Sire," the servant muttered, still obviously distracted. He didn't catch the odd glance Arthur gave him. Instead, he glanced back over his shoulder at the retreating cliff outcropping where he'd seen whatever he had seen. Of course, it could have just been nothing. These waters were probably populated by many creatures. It could have been simply a fish he had seen.

Then why was his magic jangling in his mind the way it was?

Merlin shrugged, trying to force off the feeling as Matthew led them down to the docks.

"Watch your step, Your Highness," the fisherman warned Arthur. "The docks can get slippery after a rain."

Arthur gave his thanks for the warning and the knights, Arthur, and Merlin proceeded on to the wooden planks that stretched out into the water beyond. A few boats were tied there, mostly the ones that might have needed some repair. A few looked like the storm the night before had done them some damage.

A young woman and a man stood off to one side of the dock, standing close and talking softly to each other. Matthew nodded as he passed and stopped a few feet away from them.

"Our boats aren't much to look at," he apologized. "Especially the ones tied here. But these are what we use to bring in the fish that we trade. The fish is our main source of income, and, I have to say, one of the key issues in our disagreement with Bayard's kingdom."

Merlin scrutinized a boat tied nearby. He frowned.

"They don't look very seaworthy," he noted. Arthur smirked.

"Well, Merlin, we'll put you in one and you can test it out."

"Haha," Merlin muttered dryly.

"I've been in one," Gwaine said. "That was an interesting night. We caught three narwhals that night! Three! And I swear, the feathers were not my idea…"

"Yes, well," Leon said, stopping Gwaine's story short. Merlin studied the long haired knight with something in between bemusement and amusement. As usual, he could not tell whether or not the knight was making it up or not. Although, with Gwaine, one may never know.

"Maybe the council will be ready to convene now?" the other, older and more serious knight said.

"They might be. I'll take you to them," Matthew agreed. Merlin and Arthur shared a glance that confirmed they were both thinking the same thing: saved from another one of Gwaine's stories.

A/N: Shorter chapter this time. More of a bridge with some relevant details. Hope to see you again next week!