Scrollkeeper of Camelot

“Here’s to hoping,” Lucan nodded thoughtfully. Then he smiled. “Especially if everyone keeps such a positive attitude like yourself,” he noted with a smirk. It was true; the goodwill and determination of the locals were what made this so much easier and Lucan knew the king himself and his men would do everything not to disappoint them.

“Well, it’s easy to be positive when I have a handsome knight looking out for me,” Dindrane quipped back, grinning - but not entirely exaggerating, either. She had always been a cheerful person, preferring to look for silver linings and bright sides, but it had been far easier to do when she knew that no matter how dark things got she would have Lucan there to fall back on.

“We’re getting there,” Lucan said with something that could be considered a shrug under the weight of the load. “A lot of our allies are offering to help, I believe that within a year or so we may be able to restore the kingdom to its original state. And better.” With Merlin returning to the kingdom, it seemed that even those who somewhat lost their faith in Camelot in the past were willing to give them a second chance. Lucan could only hope their alliance would not be so fickle in the future when they’ll really need it.

“That’s wonderful,” Dindrane said. Walking around the city after the storm, seeing the damage and destruction, it had felt as if it would take many years before it was anything like what it had once been. “And I’m sure that time will pass far more quickly than we expect.” After all, it felt like barely a day since she had come to Camelot at times, but she had been here now over a year herself.

Lucan would take her hand if his weren’t full of water buckets. “I’m sorry,” he said. “If there is anything I can do, just let me know. Maybe I could send for more people to come and help around?” 

There were many things he was able to do around the castle and the city and he made sure to be as helpful as he could but often he wished there’d be more he could do for Dindrane. Nothing ever seemed enough in his eyes, she deserved so much more.

Dindrane smiled at the offer - he was always looking out for her, just as he had been since the day they met, and it warmed her heart every time - but shook her head. “No, that’s alright. I don’t think more people will help now. It’s probably better than we’re slow and methodical, and make sure we go through everything properly. But thank you.”

She couldn’t squeeze his hand when he was carrying the buckets, but she reached out and touched his arm to show her appreciation. “How is all your work going?”

“You and your heart of gold,” Lucan shook his head affectionately. “How are the repairs in the archive going anyway? I wish I had more time to come and check it out myself.” There was still a lot to do in the castle but Lucan made sure to send a few of his people to help out when he could. “And how are you, more importantly?”

“They’re ... going. The water’s all been drained, and most of the structural damage has been repaired, but it’s going to take a lot longer to go through all the scrolls and books that were damaged,” Dindrane said with a quiet sigh. “We’re conserving what we can, but some will have to be copied out anew and others are completely unsalveagable.”

It pained her, to see all that knowledge lost, and she wrinkled her nose a little. “I’m alright. It’s just - I wish I could be more practical help. Knowing how to translate things doesn’t really do much in situations like this.”

“I believe you could manage,” Lucan nodded. “But you don’t need to. I’m happy to help you help them.” Walking behind her, he made sure not to hit her with the buckets. “You know there are people who actually get paid for this, though,” he pointed out with a teasing chuckle. 

“My hero,” Dindrane said with a smile, glancing at him over her shoulder. It still made her heart soar to know he wanted to be there for her, to help her, and she wondered if she would never not be amazed by it. “They were busy, and I have some time,” she shrugged. “Some of them helped with the archive after the storm, so it’s the least I can do.”

“Well, that is very sweet.” Dindrane looked at the note, wondering if it was from the same author as before or this was from someone else. She couldn’t imagine who else it would be, somehow it sounded different.

Lucan would laugh if the buckets weren’t weighing down on him so much. “Well, a little bit of showing off never hurt anyone, did it?” He hoped, at least. “You shouldn’t be dragging these alone. You should’ve called. Wasn’t there anyone to help you?” He paused, realising he didn’t know where he was supposed to take them. “Lead the way, my lady.”

“No, I suppose not,” Dindrane said with amusement. She certainly couldn’t say she minded watching the way Lucan’s muscles strained against the fabric of his shirt as he hefted the yoke up. “I thought I could manage,” she explained as she started back down the path towards the castle. “Besides, I offered to get them to help, it rather defeats the point if I have to ask someone else to do it.”

Dindrane giggled and pressed the letter to her heart. It was anonymous, but she only knew one person who would write such a lovely thing to her. On the desk in front of her was blank parchment and ink, and a slow smile curled her lips. After all, her secret admirer wasn’t the only one who could pen love notes. 

Lucan had to smile at her determination. Picking up the spare bucket, he walked to her from behind and swooped the yoke off of her shoulders easily with one hand and setting it on his own shoulder with a smirk. “Of course you absolutely can manage,” he confirmed with a small nod. “But you don’t have to.”

“Well, now you’re just showing off,” Dindrane said, though she was smiling and felt her heart warm with gentle affection that he was so caring towards her. Stepping close, she reached up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“You could carry me,” Ceri suggested. “Mine would probably be large and clumsy, like bat wings. Or an owl, maybe. So I would destroy half of the ballroom. Better if you carry me out of there.” She laughed. “You could use your wings to reach the books on the highest shelves, too.”

“Oh, that would be good. It would be easier to carry them down as well if I didn’t have to hold on to a ladder at the same time,” Dindrane mused, suddenly rather this disappointed that this was all a fantasy and that she could really go and herself wings from a market stall. “The ball’s going to seem terribly boring now when we actually get there.”

“Butterfly wings could work. Or maybe like fairy wings, you know? Beautiful and graceful… like yourself,” she pointed out. “That woul really suit you. And you could fly away if the ball became too boring.”

Dindrane didn’t think anyone had ever found her particularly graceful before and beamed at the compliment. “I wonder what it would be like to fly ...” she mused, looking up at the sky as though wondering what the view would be like from up high, then turned back to Ceri. “But you need wings too, so you can fly away with me.”

“You know, I love that. Do we have time to do it?” Ceri knew it wouldn’t be appropriate to hide in plain sight, especially at her first ball. “Well, maybe next time. I think wings would suit you,” she smiled.

“Wings?” Dindrane considered with a smile, half-glancing over her shoulder as though wings might have sprouted from her shoulder blades just by the suggestion. “What sort of wings? Like butterfly wings, or bird wings?”