Hello dear readers. Sorry for the long wait, I had some trouble with my computer and then, I had tons of projects to finish and some finals to survive.

In this chapter, I introduce a made-up language. If that language is spoken, the dialogue will be written in bold. I hope it won't be too confusing, but I think it's easier this way instead of acutally constructing an entire language system and adding all the translations somehow. :)

Enjoy.

Evan, third son of the Baronness of Wremon and aspiring squire in the service of King Uther, sighed deeply as the glorious city of Camelot came into view. Even if their mission had taken only three days, he was glad to return home.

A shrill whinny split the air, followed by loud groans and grumbles. Evan turned in his saddle and sighed. They had retrieved almost a dozen horses from the raiders that had killed those villagers. And while most of them were well-trained and calm, a few were still wild and nervy. One more so than the others. A chestnut colt with a white star and three black socks proved to be almost impossible to lead.

Sir Morstan uttered a curse as the unruly horse reared up once more. "How he hasn't been broken in is a mystery to me", he rumbled in his deep voice.

"Because he is a demon in disguise", Sir Rupert chimed in from the back of the line. "A beautiful creature, well-bred, but with terrible temperament."

As if he had understood, the colt snorted and tossed his head. Evan shook his head and nudged his own steed into a faster trot. He wanted to reach the city as soon as possible and hand the retrieved horses over to the Horse Master.

...

Meanwhile, a frantic tension buzzed in a few of Camelot's residents.

When Finnja had suddenly taken off, Gaius had dismissed the idea of following her almost immediately. The little girl was far too quick for his old legs. Instead, he had sent the nearest servant to find Merlin. Then, he asked the guards to be on the look-out for the child and to notify him instantly should they spot her.

Morgana approached him, her lips pursed in a worried frown. "I merely wanted to ask about Finnja", she explained. "She looked so lost and frightened."

With a sigh, the Court Physician relayed to the Lady how his new charge had fled.

"Oh, the poor thing!", Morgana exclaimed, delicate hand covering her mouth. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Gaius tried dissuading her, she was a lady, after all, but the head-strong woman wouldn't have it. "I cannot imagine how she must feel", she said before insisting: "She mustn't be left wandering alone in Camelot, especially not in her state."

Eventually, the wisened physician relented and gratefully accepted Morgana's help.


The large paddocks for the knights' and nobles' horses were located right beside the tournament grounds. Apart from the Horse Master and the stable hands, not many people could be found there. It was a perfect place for anybody who sought solitude and quiet.

Finnja climbed the wooden fence and plopped down in the grass, leaning her back against the fence post. Her heart slowed its thundering pace and she felt her shoulders slump as the overwhelming emotions drained from her.

One of the horses perked up as it caught her scent. A few of its peers continued grazing while others followed his lead, raising their heads and flicking their ears.

The small girl watched as the curious yearling, a beautiful skewbald filly, slowly trotted over to her. She stayed still as the filly huffed and sniffed her, soft muzzle nudging against her. "Hello", she murmured, a small smile gracing her youthful features as the horse inspected her outstretched hand. A disappointed whinny made her smile widen and she responded with a gentle apology, rubbing the filly's cheek.

As soon as the words left her lips, her face fell. With Isa no longer here, she would never get to speak that language to anyone again.

The filly let out a soft nicker and rubbed her head against the child's shoulder. Finnja sighed. "Our horses would understand", she said, mind straying to the animals she had helped care for. Metis, Ruby and Portia, the mares. Rovan, the prized stallion the baron had bought four years ago. Iruleen and Obsidian, the fillies that had been intended for the children of a noble. Angus, Lahena and Thorn, the yearlings Isa and Finnja had reared on their own. And Saban.

Saban was the last foal that Maeve had helped into the world. The birth had been difficult and nobody had believed that the foal would survive. But Finnja had refused to give up on Saban and ended up raising him by hand. He was energetic and wilful and so far, he had only let Finnja back him.

...

By now, word of the child's flight had reached Prince Arthur. Nobody knew how Merlin had managed to convinced the royal to help with the search, but they were all pleasantly surprised when the blond ordered some of his knights to keep an eye out for Finnja and "don't scare her, for Heaven's sake, she has suffered enough already."

Merlin ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. "This is not getting us anywhere", he said.

Heaving an equally defeated sigh, Gwen had to agree. They had searched the entire citadel and hadn't even found as much as a sign of Finnja.

"Where would she go?", Morgana asked in an attempt to approach the situation rationally. "She hasn't been in the city for a long time, so which way would a frightened little girl turn?"

Merlin's face lit up as an idea struck him. "Outside", he answered, a smile spreading on his features. "Finnja is from the country, from a family of horse-breeders. If I were her-"

"- you would go somewhere familiar", Gwen finished excitedly. "Of course!" She told them how they had walked past the tournament grounds once and that Finnja had proceeded to tell her all about the few horses that had been inside the fences.

Relieved to have a good starting point, they split up. Gwen went to update Gaius on their progress while Merlin, though itching to make sure his young friend was alright, still had many chores to tend to.

Thus, it was only the two royals who headed towards the paddocks, firmly hoping that the physician's newly-appointed ward was there. They were soon arguing heatedly over who would approach Finnja first and the debate ended with Morgana smirking triumphantly and Arthur sul- scowling. Not for the first time, the prince was equal parts admiring of and frustrated by her talent of using his own words against him and winning their arguments with faultless, ruthless logic and a fair bit of cunning.

...

The patrol passed the city gates. Eager to hand the retrieved horses off into the Horse Master's capable hands, Sir Rupert and a few of the squires turned towards the paddocks while the rest of the party continued on into the upper city.

The chestnut colt that had been giving them grief along the way hadn't ceased its temperamental protests. He tossed his head, snorting and nickering in an almost cantankerous manner, and was generally being as difficult and stubborn as possible.

"Come on, you blasted beast!", Evan grunted as the colt pranced. He could have sworn that the horse's neigh sounded like a laugh.

...

With one last glare at Morgana, Arthur strode across the meadow to the paddocks, blue eyes searching for the missing girl. Her tousled mop of brown hair stood out against the green of the pasture and he automatically felt himself tensing. According to the Horse Master, some of the yearlings were easily spooked. If they startled, Finnja could get grievously injured.

So the blond prince approached slowly, making himself look as non-threatening as possible. The little girl didn't seem to hear him. She was sitting on the ground, a skewbald filly lying down by her side.

"There you are", the Prince said quietly to announce his presence.

Finnja looked up.

"You had many people worried", he added as he settled down beside her.

Guilt entered her amber eyes and she dropped her gaze. "I'm sorry", she mumbled, small hand running over the filly's neck. "I don't know why I ran."

Not knowing what to say, Arthur cleared his throat and stated: "So...you like horses."

The little girl nodded, a smile lighting up her amber eyes as she proceeded to tell him all about the horses from back home. Arthur listened, oddly fascinated by the passion and knowledge Finnja had for these animals and their care.

...

Eventually, the Prince suggested they head back to the castle, reminding the little girl of the worried people she had left in her wake.

Finnja agreed readily, climbing to her feet and brushing the dirt off her clothes.

They started walking up the path to where Morgana was waiting for them with a smile on her face.

"Was the Lady Morgana worried, too?", Finnja asked in a small voice, peering up at Arthur.

He opened his mouth to answer, but didn't get a chance when an ear-splitting whinny rang through the air, followed by the pounding of hooves and warning shouts. He tensed, hand falling to the hilt of his sword as his eyes scanned their surroundings for threats.

"Hold him!", a voice cried out, followed by a second one hollering: "Watch out, sire!"

A chestnut colt was barrelling towards them.

"Saban!"

Arthur, Morgana and the knights could only watch in a mixture of horror and amazement as Finnja ran to meet the out-of-control horse, a look of pure joy on her little features. "Saban", she called again.

The colt tossed its head, neighing again, not showing any sign of slowing.

Morgana gasped, covering her mouth with a hand. "She's going to get hurt!"

...

The only one that didn't expect a horrible accident was Finnja.

Saban stopped, bouncing on his hindlegs in excitement before bending his neck and letting the little girl give him a mighty hug.

"Saban", she whispered, burying her face in his warm coat of fur, smiling as he blew on her hair and nuzzled her back. "I am so happy to see you." She stepped back and scratched his neck. The colt blew out another breath, rumbling with pleasure. "I missed you too."

Only when the initial excitement died down did the small brunette realise that everyone - Prince Arthur, Lady Morgana and a group of knights - were staring at her. Sheepishly, she bit her lip and walked over to them, Saban following her as calmly as a well-trained dog. As she did so, she recognised the other horses the knights were holding and her face lit up with another big smile.

"Oh look, Saban", she whispered to the chestnut yearling. "They found all of you. The bad men didn't have time to sell you."

...

The knights and squires hardly believed their eyes. The troublesome colt that Sir Rupert had labelled a demon in disguise was completely transformed, no trace of the wild, unruly beast.

"Cursed horse", Evan muttered under his breath. "Giving me trouble all the way and now playing innocent."

Collin, a fellow squire and one of his closest friends, snickered.


Within the following weeks, Finnja began to get used to life in Camelot.

She was still - as Gaius put it - thoroughly unversed in the social graces around nobility and gentry, but her sincerity and eager willingness to help any- and everyone quickly endeared her to many of the servants and household staff. She spent her days following either Merlin or Gwen, helping them with their work and in turn getting to know the city and its inhabitants a little better.

They soon discovered that the child had an almost insatiable thirst for knowledge. She could ask hundreds of questions and once she received a satisfying answer, she would be so excited that she wouldn't hesitate to tell her friends about the things she had learned.

One person who often got to hear all about her latest discovery was Sir Leon. The knight quite enjoyed the little girl's company, her innocence and curiosity filling the air with light and energy. He didn't mind listening to her and soon found himself looking forward to seeing Finnja bound up to him, her chestnut brown mop of hair flying and her amber eyes glowing with a smile.

...

Since Gaius didn't know the answer to all her questions (though Finnja in her youthful adoration still believed him to), he eventually decided that she should learn how to read.

Merlin and Gwen were both literate and more than happy to teach their small friend. The 11-year-old soon knew the alphabet and could spell her name, something she took immense pride in. The first person she told was Sir Leon, who congratulated her on her achievement. He occasionally helped her practice when his duties allowed it and always had to smile at her excitement when she successfully spelled a word correctly.

The next person who heard about Finnja's lessons was Morgana. The king's ward often asked Gwen about the child's wellbeing.

"Finnja has started writing the names of everyone she knows", the maid said with a fond smile as she helped her get dressed one morning.

"Finnja can write?", Morgana asked in surprise. It was rather rare that a commoner, especially a young girl from the countryside, would know how to write.

Gwen's smile was filled with loving pride as she explained: "She's teaching herself. She said if she learned how to read, she should also learn how to write."

The Lady chuckled, picturing the little girl's expression of fierce determination. "A good point", she agreed. "I take it that it is you and Merlin who teach her?"

"Yes, Mylady."

Morgana clicked her tongue. "But you have both enough responsibilities", she pointed out. "If I am not with Uther when he holds court, all I get to do is sit around and listen to the courtiers and noblewomen gossip about the knights or whoever they fancy." She sighed and sat down in front of the mirror so Gwen could brush her hair. "I would love to have a more useful occupation and teaching Finnja reading and writing is certainly a rewarding task."

Gwen smiled. "It is, Mylady. And I'm sure Finnja will be honoured to have you as her teacher."