A Hidden Past: Chapter 6- Freya

Chapter 6 – Freya

Warning/s: Character death

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

A/N: Hi guys. I am so so so so so so sorry that this took so long to update but I really wanted to do this chapter the justice it deserves. Also, I have had this chapter half written for months but have been unable to finish it due to really bad writer's block. I hope that you all enjoy it and thank you to all of you who have stuck with this story.

Enjoy!

Many thanks to Cordelia Rose who betaed this!

Arthur watched as Merlin straightened, his eyes glowing a fierce gold which seemed to pulse and swirl in his irises. His raven hair was plastered to his forehead and his chest heaved; but Merlin stood strongly.

"You chose the wrong person to cast that spell on, Kileen," Merlin hissed and the anger in his voice caused the bravest of the knights of Camelot to take a step back. Kileen cowered, desperately searching for somewhere to run, but finding herself trapped in his golden gaze.

"This kingdom is under my protection; I thought I had made that perfectly clear. Nobody touches Arthur or his men while there is still breath in my body," Merlin continued, taking another step towards the whimpering witch. His steps echoed in the silence and the only other noise was his harsh panting, almost as if he had run miles instead of just getting up from the floor.

"I'm… s-sorry, my lord. I w-would have n-never cast it on you, I swear," Kileen pleaded, on her knees now as Merlin continued towards her. Arthur thought for a moment that she was apologising to him due to the "my lord" but when her stare didn't waver from Merlin, he quickly discarded that theory. Merlin wasn't a prince or even a noble, so why was she addressing him as such?

"Unfortunately, you did and it was a particularly nasty spell at that. Do you think I haven't realised that this spell feeds off emotions, especially negative ones, and that it normally drives the victim to insanity?!" Merlin whispered, his voice full of ice. Arthur flinched. Insanity. How much of his worst memories did a man have to experience before his mind couldn't take it anymore?

"In fact, right now, I am having to fight the next memory because I want to have at least a few seconds of my life where I can look at the people I care about as I truly am," Merlin said, turning to face Arthur, Gwen and the knights. He took a step to walk towards them but his knees gave out and he crashed to the ground, causing Gwen, the nearest person to him, to spring forward and catch him. She no longer cared that he had magic; all she wanted was her friend to be free from the spell, which was causing him so much anguish. Her arms shook with the effort of holding his limp body but her movement seemed to break the invisible bonds that were keeping the others still. They rushed towards the pair and Arthur helped his wife lower Merlin to the floor. The warlock gasped and opened his eyes, maintaining some control over the spell.

"I-I'm sorry. I should… h-have told you," he panted, trying to find the energy to keep himself from being dragged into the next memory. Gwen stroked his ruffled hair and tried to smooth the creases from his forehead.

"There is nothing to forgive, Merlin. You would have been killed if you hadn't lied," she whispered soothingly, feeling some tension release from his shoulders. Merlin smiled at her, showing his gratitude when words failed him. He raised a shaking hand and placed it over hers, squeezing lightly. Arthur watched the fond exchange and tried not to let tears leak out of his eyes. It was like they were saying goodbye and he wouldn't allow that.

"No, Merlin, you are not going to go… insane. I won't allow it," he commanded petulantly, sounding like he was a child demanding his toy back. Merlin chuckled weakly as his eyes flickered shut.

"I never do what I'm told, prat," he mumbled, going limp as he lost the battle with the spell. Gwen cradled his body and sobbed, burying her face in his shoulder as if she thought her tears would bring him back. Arthur placed his arm around her and tried to offer her some semblance of comfort as they mourned their friend, not expecting him to ever be the same again.

Arthur didn't want to look around when he felt the faint breeze that a memory beginning caused; he didn't want to see anymore of Merlin's memories, not when they were going to cause his friend harm. He felt the coldness of night start to seep through his clothes and the hard cobbled surface beneath his knees but still he refused to look up, until he heard the unmistakable voice of his manservant speak.

"Gaius," Merlin said, breaking the still silence of the evening. Arthur's head snapped up and he took in his surroundings. They were in Camelot, the lower town outside one of Gwaine's favourite pubs: The Rising Sun. The wind whistled through the eaves causing the weather-beaten sign to creak and sway; bright lights filtered out of the windows, lighting up the street outside. The cobbled stones were muddied and littered with puddles. However, all of these things were minor details compared to the rickety cage that took up most of the street and the soaked girl who slumped inside.

Merlin was staring at the bedraggled girl inside with confusion. Gaius turned to see what had caught Merlin's attention and looked with pity upon the girl.

"She's fallen prey to a bounty hunter," he explained tiredly.

"She's only a girl," Merlin stated in confusion. Arthur shook his head; he had hated watching bounty hunters drag whatever unfortunate soul they had captured up in front of the king for a few bags of gold.

"She'll still fetch a good price, though. Uther offers handsome rewards for anyone with magic," Gaius continued, turning away from the girl in the cage as if he could not bear to look for any longer.

"There must be something we can do," Merlin pleaded, his eyes never leaving the girl's dirtied face. Gaius turned back to face his ward.

"Merlin, bounty hunters are dangerous men. They're not to be meddled with. You of all people should know that," he said sadly with a slight note of worry evident in his face. Merlin still didn't look away from the girl and Arthur got the sensation that he was planning something, something stupid and idiotic but noble. He wasn't wrong as the scene shifted slightly; Gaius disappeared and the sky darkened further.

Merlin gripped the iron bars with both hands and peered in at the girl then his face brightened with his cheerful grin.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered, moving around to the cage door and raising a hand. He whispered a spell and the lock of the cage sprang open with a jingle of chains. The girl sprang back and pressed herself into the corner of the cage, fearing his motives. Arthur felt a pang of pity at what had caused the girl to be so afraid, especially of someone so harmless looking as Merlin. Although Arthur was beginning to doubt how harmless Merlin actually was as he broke the manacles around her wrists with just a few words.

Together they jumped out of the cage with Merlin carefully lifting the girl down and dragging her behind the wheels of the wagon. Seconds later, the door to the inn opened and the bounty hunter stepped out, mindlessly picking at a piece of food stuck in his teeth. Arthur held his breath as the bounty hunter finally noticed his prey had escaped and drew his sword. Merlin's eyes darted around the deserted street for some way to get himself and the girl to safety, they finally settled on the swaying sign for the inn.

"Ic bebiede pis giestarn taken fielan," Merlin whispered, causing the chain of the sign to break and hit the bounty hunter on the head with a resounding thud. Arthur almost winced in sympathy for the man as he collapsed like a sack of potatoes but he was too busy trying to work out where he knew the druid girl from. He had an awful niggling sensation at the back of his mind that whoever the girl was she was dangerous, but the memory refused to become any clearer than that. By the time he had properly focused on the memory, the bounty hunter was groggily getting to his feet just in time to see two figures disappearing into the distance.

The memory jerked as it went from a moonlit street to the pitch darkness of a stone passageway illuminated by a flickering torch, grasped in Merlin's hand. Arthur was forced to run after the memory version of Merlin as the couple sprinted through the maze of tunnels until they finally stopped by an alcove. Arthur paused and tried to regain his bearings; he took in the area around him, realising that they were underneath the castle. Merlin's voice broke him out of his ponderings.

"Here," his manservant said, offering the girl his jacket. Arthur smiled at the gesture but his expression dropped as soon as the girl flinched away, pressing her body closer to the stone wall. How could anyone be afraid of Merlin? He was well… Merlin, the least threatening person alive. Arthur suddenly paused in his train of thoughts: Merlin was also a sorcerer. His mind skidded to a halt and he shook his head vigorously - no, he would not go down that route.

He raised his eyes once more to the scene in front of him as the girl continued to keep hers lowered.

"Sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. I just thought you might be cold," Merlin softy explained to the girl as she wrapped her arms around her body. Arthur winced at her nervousness; what had she been through to react like that?

"Why did you help me?" the girl finally asked, meeting Merlin's eyes for the first time, and Arthur heard the note of mistrust in her voice as clear as day.

"Well, I saw you and… it could've been me in that cage," Merlin said, causing Arthur to clench his fists at the thought. He would have never allowed that to happen nor would he allow it now. He had never thought of it particularly before but every person in those cages was an individual with a life, a story, a family.

"You'll be safe down here. I'll come back in the morning with some food and candles. Will you be alright till then? I'm Merlin, by the way," Merlin continued, still allowing the frightened girl some space. Arthur smiled as Merlin's signature grin caused the girl to smile back, albeit shyly. That smile could cause the sternest of castle cooks to melt and even had Gaius under its spell occasionally.

"Freya," she replied, allowing him to hand her his jacket, which was quickly wrapped around her bare shoulders. Merlin's smile widened and he moved off towards the exit.

"I'll see you in the morning… Freya," he said, pronouncing her name as if it were a pleasant gift to be able to speak it. Arthur chuckled to himself as he recognised the familiar gleam that lit up Merlin's eyes when Freya thanked him, a gleam he had first noticed in the mirror when he had kissed Gwen.

Merlin had been in love with this girl.

Abruptly, his whole world froze as the niggling sensation returned but this time brought with it a proper memory, a memory of a black winged beast that had once been a girl in a tattered red dress captured by a bounty hunter. He vividly remembered slicing a wound into the beast's front leg where it connected to the body and the desire to kill the beast so it couldn't strike again. Arthur found himself praying that the strike hadn't been fatal, that he hadn't… killed the girl that Merlin loved. The realisation brought him to his knees as the weight of what he had done crashed down upon him. There was no point lying to himself; the swing had been fatal and he had killed Merlin's love. Unless Merlin had managed to heal her; he was an all-powerful warlock, after all. Maybe he had managed to heal the wound before it killed her and that's why he had never seen Merlin with another woman, because Freya was still alive and she just didn't have a job in the castle like Merlin did. Arthur shot to his feet in relief and continued to witness the memory, hoping against hope that Freya had survived.

Past Merlin brushed by where Arthur was standing and carefully laid the items he had with him on the ground so as not to wake the sleeping form of Freya. He smiled at the peaceful expression on her face and almost looked regretful at having to wake her up. Arthur smiled as a fond memory of doing the same thing but with Gwen came to the forefront of his mind.

Gingerly, Merlin reached forward and laid a hand on her bare arm causing Freya to start awake, shuffling as far away as possible from Merlin. She cowered in the corner of the archway, her legs still covered by Merlin's jacket.

"It's all right. It's okay, it's me, Merlin," Merlin hastily said, his tone as soft and kind as possible as if he was speaking to a frightened animal. Arthur recalled hearing this same tone used on the horses when they had been panicked by a fire in the stables.

"And look," Merlin continued, gently placing the cloth bundle in front of her and unwrapping it, revealing the meat, cheese and white bread inside. Arthur spluttered indignantly; he remembered that food, it was identical to what he had for breakfast. A sudden memory appeared in the front of his mind, one of a new breakfast menu and a desire to keep him fighting fit. The idiot had stolen his breakfast. Arthur grumbled unhappily to himself but he felt his irritation dissipate at the look of amazement in Freya's eyes, a look of someone who had never seen such good food.

Freya hastily grabbed the bread and began stuffing it as fast as she could into her mouth. Arthur wondered if she even had time to chew it before it was swallowed down. He turned his gaze from the ravenous girl to Merlin, who was watching her with an odd expression. It looked like he wanted to make sure that she always ate this well for the rest of her life, not having to worry about where the next meal was coming from. It made Arthur realise just how sheltered his own life had been. He had never worried about food or clothing, he had assumed that everyone was able to make do until Merlin came into his life. He realised that his bumbling servant had shown him the injustices of the world, taught him more about being a great king than his father.

"It's good," Freya's shy voice piped up, having finished her current mouthful to stare at where Merlin was placing the candles he had brought. He smiled at her.

"Believe me, it's fit for a prince," he responded, the truth in his words not lost on Arthur, who glared without any real heat at the image of his manservant. His glare melted into a look of childish wonder as he watched said servant light the candles with a wave of his hand. He almost expected Freya to shy back from the magic as most people in Camelot would have done but she just carried on with her meal. Arthur wondered how many times Merlin had lit his own room's candles like that; it was certainly easier than using a splint.

"Is that a druid symbol?" Merlin asked curiously, drawing Arthur's gaze from the flames to the curled tattoo on her arm. Freya nodded silently. "Were you born a druid?" Merlin continued to question, looking confused. Freya glanced up defensively.

"Why are you asking me all these questions?" she responded, not answering his question.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," Merlin said, clearly reigning in his curiosity. There was a pause in the conversation, Freya still mistrustful of Merlin, not willing to reveal anything about herself that personal yet. It made Arthur's heart ache for her that she had been so betrayed that she couldn't trust one of the most trustworthy people he knew. Except that he lies and has magic, the voice in the back of his mind traitorously whispered but Arthur ignored it.

"I'm sorry," Freya quietly apologised but Merlin didn't seem at all offended by her mistrust.

"I understand. I know what it's like to keep secrets," he responded sympathetically, his eyes gaining a weary look like someone who has lived for a very long time.

"You could never understand. Does anyone know you have magic?" Freya said and Arthur realised that she wasn't talking about being a druid; she was talking about her curse. He winced; did Merlin know about it when the bodies started to appear?

"Only you. And one other person. He knows, but I'm not sure he understands," Merlin answered wistfully and Arthur knew that he was talking about Gaius. It must have been hard to only be yourself around one person. He had always had Morgana to be himself around and then Merlin but him acting like a real person wouldn't have got him executed like Merlin.

"I wish I was like everyone else, but…" Freya started to say.

"You always know, deep down, you're not?" Merlin finished with a grin.

"Because I'm cursed," Freya said, looking away in shame. Merlin winced as if visibly pained by her statement.

"Freya, don't say that. Magic doesn't have to be a curse. It can be a gift," Merlin pleaded, his desperation for her not to sink into self-loathing clear. Arthur wished he could tell his past friend's self that Freya wasn't talking about magic being a curse. He could almost sense Merlin's own self-loathing bubbling under his surface as he sighed in frustration.

"Look…" Merlin said softly, switching tactics. He muttered a spell and the flickering candle flames delicately lifted off their wicks, still burning. Arthur let out a breath of wonder as he watched them float higher under Merlin's careful control.

Freya's expression mirrored his own as she was entranced by his beautiful display of magic.

"Beautiful," she breathed and Arthur got the sense that if it had been any other magic user's spell, it might not have been so breath-taking to them. However, this was Merlin and his magic seemed so much purer than, what Arthur assumed, others to be. Something to ask the man when this was all over. If he was still sane then, the voice in the back of his mind hissed and Arthur shuddered at the thought of losing his best friend. He was so wrapped up in his depressing feelings that he almost missed the intense stare the two shared as Merlin released his control over the flames.

"I have to go. Someone might notice I'm missing. But I-I'll come back, and I'll bring you some more food. I promise," Merlin said quietly, breaking the atmosphere that had developed between them and Arthur realised that Merlin was promising so much more in those two words than just more of his breakfast. Freya smiled and watched him disappear with a sad look of mourning on her face as if she wished for the relationship that had started to develop but knew she couldn't have.

As the scene faded away, Arthur remembered a confrontation that he had walked in on between Merlin and Halig. He had been looking for his manservant when raised voices had grabbed his attention, the bounty hunter had been about to hit Merlin when he had appeared. The man had accused Merlin of hiding the girl and Arthur had not believed Merlin capable of it. How wrong he had been. He forced himself to focus on the new image in front of him.

Freya was huddled against the wall when the memory shifted again and was subtly trying to wipe her eyes that had the slight reddened quality of someone who had been crying.

"I'm sorry I took so long. You must be hungry. What is it?" Merlin apologised cheerfully before noticing the redness.

"Nothing," Freya quickly replied, pasting a smile on her face in an attempt to hide her sadness.

"But you're upset," Merlin continued, his voice low with concern.

"No," Freya denied, not meeting his worried gaze.

"Did you think I wasn't coming? But I promised you I would," Merlin asked, his eyes spotting the truth in his statement before she responded. Arthur hoped that in Camelot currently there weren't any people suffering like Freya had, who were so scared of abandonment and had been betrayed by so many that they no longer trusted. He hoped that he had changed Camelot for the better.

"I scare most people away," Freya finally said, causing Arthur to wince in the knowledge that it wasn't the timid druid girl who terrified people but the murderous black beast.

"I'm not most people. How long had you been in that cage?" Merlin replied with a grin, settling himself in a more comfortable position opposite Freya. Arthur smiled to himself, Merlin was indeed not most people; most people would have turned the girl in for a reward or run away terrified. Or stabbed her like he himself did, Arthur thought to himself.

"A few days," Freya answered quietly, her eyes taking on a haunted look.

"And the bounty hunter, how did he find you?" Merlin questioned, idly rubbing his arms and Arthur suddenly remembered interrupting Halig interrogating Merlin, finding his manservant held down about to be struck. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn't been looking for the bounty hunter; Merlin would never have given Freya up. He was far too loyal for that.

"You can't always trust people," Freya responded to Merlin's question with a wry smile.

"I know. That's why I left home," Merlin said, sharing the smile and Arthur realised that they understood each other, the constant fear of who would be able to keep their secrets, always having to look over their shoulders. Merlin had suffered because of people; Arthur remembered the boys in Merlin's childhood who had beaten him so badly.

"Where is home?" Freya asked, picking at the food Merlin had brought her.

"Ealdor. It's a small village. Just a few fields, a couple of cows. Nothing special," Merlin said brightly, shrugging.

"My home was next to a lake surrounded by the tallest mountains. In the winter, the storms whipped up the water into waves and you thought they were going to crash down and take away all the houses. But in the summer, wild flowers and light. It was like heaven." Freya described, her eyes misting over as she spoke, her face lighter and more relaxed. Arthur could see why Merlin loved her.

"But my family died," Freya finished, her face tensing and her eyes losing their sparkle.

"You're not on your own anymore. I'm going to look after you. I promise," Merlin swore and Arthur couldn't bear to look much longer, knowing that he would be the cause of Merlin's failure to make that promise come true.

"You can't look after me. No one can," Freya answered quietly, folding the food up and handing it back to Merlin but Merlin grabbed her hands, holding them within his own.

"No, I don't think you understand. I've never known anyone like you," he replied, his eyes begging her to let him into her heart, to let him care for her and even love her one day. He began to remove his hands from hers but she caught hold of them herself. "I wish I could stay but we need to be careful. I'll come back in the morning. You know that, don't you?" Merlin said regretfully, clearly wishing he could spend every second of the day with her. Slowly he extracted his hands from hers and stood up, beginning to move away when he was stopped by Freya's voice.

"Merlin, I've never known anyone like you either," she whispered, finally letting him know that she was willing to try and trust again. Arthur silently agreed with her, knowing that Merlin was one in a kind, that you wouldn't be able to find a kinder, braver soul in the whole world. A small part of him wished that Merlin had fallen for someone else, someone who he could have been with freely and without the fear of discovery. However, he quickly dismissed that thought; Merlin would have had to lie to her or have her lie to others in order to protect his secret. No relationship could survive with the amount of secrets his friend had.

The night must have passed when the scene changed because Freya had moved, her arms wrapped around herself while she focused intently on the stone floor. She didn't even react when Merlin came bumbling in, carrying a huge disc of crusty bread. Arthur felt his stomach twinge as she realised what the night must mean for Freya, being forced to turn into a monster and kill people. It had been a young couple that she had killed that night, if he remembered correctly. Perhaps the human side of her had felt drawn to them due to her and Merlin's growing feelings for each other, but the animal side had taken over before she could stop it. This was no doubt the cause of her regretful expression.

"I know, I'm late again. Sorry. But, this is going to be the best bread you have ever tasted. What do you want with it? Come on. You can have anything: ham, cheese…" Merlin chattered cheerfully, clearly not aware of Freya's actions last night.

"Strawberries," Freya answered softly, raising her head to smile shyly at him. Merlin looked a little surprised at her answer but grinned good-naturedly at her odd suggestion anyway.

"Strawberries it is," he said, making a show of rubbing his hands together and flexing them as if preparing for a huge feat of magic. Arthur smiled fondly at his manservant's attempts to cheer Freya up, treating her as if she was a small frightened child. "Blostma," he whispered, eyes flashing gold as he cupped his hands together. Slowly, he opened them, revealing the red rose nestled with his palms. Arthur groaned at his cheesy attempt to flirt with Freya, trying not to laugh at Merlin's attempts to justify its completely 'accidental' creation. Although he couldn't keep the smile off his face as Freya blushed, taking the offered rose and twirling it in her fingers. Her eyes sparkled with affection as she gazed at the false strawberry as if she couldn't quite believe this was all real. The two's peaceful atmosphere was shattered by the sound of boots stomping along the passageway. Both of their heads shot up and turned in the direction of the sounds, faces mirroring each other's panic.

"They must've followed me," Merlin exclaimed, willing the candles to go out and pulling Freya close up against the wall beside him as torchlight drew nearer. Present Arthur stood outside the alcove, watching with barely concealed hatred as Halig strode down the tunnel towards their hiding place. His instincts demanded he reach out and throttle the man for what he had done but he knew that the bounty hunter was just an image. Arthur held his breath as the man searched the hiding space but missed the couple pressed into the shadows of the wall. He shook his head and stomped off in frustration, with Arthur making a very un-princely hand gesture at his back. Behind him Freya slid to the ground, supported by Merlin as he hastily relit a candle to illuminate the darkness. As gently as if cradling a child, Merlin gathered Freya into his arms as she shook with fear.

"They're going to find me. I can't go back in that cage, I can't," she sobbed, clutching his arm as she trembled at the thought of being trapped behind iron bars again. Arthur sunk down against the opposite wall; he wished he had convinced his father to let the girl go. The look of terror on her face made him want to slap his younger self to see sense: that magic wasn't bad, just his father's hypocrisy.

"I won't let that happen. I promised you I'd look after you, and I will. No matter what. You really don't realise how special you are, do you?" Merlin whispered, not breaking eye contact with Freya for a second, stroking her knuckles with one finger soothingly.

"You're not scared of me?" Freya asked with such raw vulnerability in her voice that Arthur felt his eyes grow moist. He told himself sternly that he wasn't crying; kings don't cry.

Freya stared up at Merlin with a look that Arthur found scarily familiar; he had seen that look before on someone else's face. Merlin's. It was the same expression his manservant had worn when he had collapsed into Gwen's arms. A look of hope that perhaps, just perhaps, someone might accept him for who he truly was. They really were perfect for each other, Arthur mused.

"Being different is nothing to be scared of," Merlin answered softly and their faces drew closer together until Arthur was sure they could feel the warmth from each other's breath on their skin. He slowly got up and moved off out of view of the couple as they finally closed the gap, their lips meeting in a kiss. He missed the lone tear run down Merlin's face as if he couldn't contain the emotions he was feeling like an internal dam had burst and everything was spilling out. Arthur though that even in visions this was too private a moment to intrude upon.

When Arthur turned back, Merlin was gone and Freya had moved out of the alcove, further into the actual tunnel.

"What are you doing here?" Freya exclaimed as Merlin came flying past where Arthur was standing with a huge grin on his face. Arthur jolted, thinking for one second that Freya had been talking to him and he had somehow found his way into the past.

"I couldn't help it," Merlin said.

"It's dangerous," Freya pointed out, exasperated at how one kiss hours ago had scrambled his mind.

"I'm fed up with being careful. I am fed up with all of this. So I've decided, we're going to get you out of Camelot," he answered, grinning as he stood in front of her.

"How?"

"I'll get you some clothes, disguise you. What's wrong?" Merlin began to explain only to notice that his excited smile wasn't shared on her face.

"It's just, I'm going to miss you," she said sadly but Arthur was surprised that Merlin didn't seem phased by their imminent separation if his expression was to go by.

"No, you won't, because I'm going to come with you," Merlin replied cheerfully and Arthur's mouth dropped open in shock. Merlin had actually considered leaving, eloping with this druid girl to abandon his friends and home. Were his friendships here so meaningless that it was so easy for him to up and leave? He probably wouldn't have even said goodbye, they would have just woken up one morning and he would have gone, leaving them to worry and stress over if he had died or been kidnapped.

"You can't. Don't say that," Freya exclaimed and Merlin's face fell as if he had been punched.

"It's not what you want?" he said quietly, taking a step back almost preparing himself for rejection.

"Merlin, you have a good life here. My life is... I have to keep moving, always looking over my shoulder, people chasing me," Freya answered calmly, trying to pacify Merlin. Arthur agreed with her, he wasn't about to watch his best friend walk away from everyone who cared about him to go with a girl who shapeshifted into a dangerous predator.

"Tell him!" Arthur shouted at the vision of Freya, knowing that this had already happened but still unable to stop himself from trying.

"Then we'll go somewhere no one knows us. Somewhere far away. You haven't given me your answer," Merlin pleaded, desperately wanting his beautiful dream away from destiny to come true.

"I want that more than anything. Where will we go?" Freya finally said, laughing in pure happiness at the idea of being truly free. Arthur felt a small traitorous part of himself wishing that Merlin had managed to leave with Freya and fulfil their plan even if it meant he had never seen his friend again. It created a tranquil picture in his mind of a little cottage by a lake surrounded by fields of wildflowers with a few cows grazing and framed by the tallest, snow-capped mountains. A landscape that mirrored its residents.

-Night has passed-

When Merlin came flying around the corner, a red and purple silk dress folded over his arm, Arthur began to chuckle to himself. He remembered that dress and the night he had been walking down a corridor when he had run into a certain servant carrying it. He had teased Merlin for months afterwards about his choice of hobby. Now, it turned out that the dress wasn't for his manservant at all. He most certainly wasn't going to apologize for it when - if - Merlin woke up, because he had had to listen to Morgana complain for ages about the loss of one of her favorite dresses.

"Believe me, it was not easy getting you this," Merlin said happily, holding the dress out in front of him with a flourish. Arthur tried to withhold his laughter again as he recalled Gwen once telling him about Merlin's moth excuse.

Freya's face lit up with amazement and Arthur could guess that she had never seen such an expensive and well-made garment before in her life, let alone been presented with one.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, reaching out to take the dress and hold it against her body.

"You look like a princess," Merlin complimented, unable to take his eyes off such a beautiful sight. However, Freya's eyes soon lost their sparkle and she handed the item of clothing back to him.

"I'm not and I can't take this. You keep doing all these things for me when I don't deserve them," she answered, tears pooling in her eyes as she turned away from Merlin. His expression changing to one of sorrow and confusion at his rejected gift.

"Here. Please. You'll look wonderful in it and tonight as soon as it gets dark we can leave and be together," he pleaded, his desperation to keep the girl he loved safe evident in the look on his face. He held the dress out for her to take again and Freya waited for a few seconds before taking it.

"We'll need supplies," she said shyly, her whole body beginning to brighten up as she agreed to the idea. In his excitement, Merlin didn't notice the sad gleam that remained in Freya's eyes but Arthur did and his heart sunk. He knew what that glimmer meant and it pained him to watch the emotion she poured into their kiss as Merlin left as if she never wanted it to end. Arthur realized that by the time Merlin got back she wouldn't be there. Those two really were too similar, the same self-sacrificing tendencies.

Sure enough, the slight blurriness of time passing as the memory shifted, Merlin appeared again, a travel bag slung over his shoulders. He stared at the empty alcove and the agonized shout that he let out cut Arthur to the core. He followed his distraught manservant as he sprinted through the maze of corridors and passageways under the castle, searching in vain for Freya. Whilst muttering to himself about how he should have known, he should have realized and helped her get out sooner. Arthur comprehended that Gaius must have worked it out and told Merlin, knowing that his ward would have been the one to hide her. Merlin knew what Freya was but it didn't seem to make an ounce of difference as the manservant searched everywhere for her before finally collapsing on his bed in grief. Arthur perched on the end of it, watching as his friend stared at the wall in complete silence, mourning the loss of his love. He wished he had been there to comfort him, gods, he wished that anyone had been there then to comfort Merlin: Gwen, one of the knights, Gaius…

Abruptly, almost as if his wish had been granted, Gaius slowly opened the door and sighed as he took in the sight of the grieving warlock. He approached the bed and sat almost next to Arthur at the end of it, peering at the young man with a sad expression.

"I do understand how you must feel, Merlin," he began softly but Merlin just shook his head, eyes filling with tears.

"You can never understand," he said, turning to face Gaius. "Do you know it feels to be a monster? To be afraid of who you are?"

Arthur flinched at the word 'monster', the guilt of knowing that it was his own father that had caused Merlin to look on himself that way. To feel like he was what was wrong with this world. Arthur couldn't imagine ever being afraid of himself; sure he had been scared of being king, of failing his subjects, but never of himself.

"Freya is different from you, she's dangerous," Gaius persisted but just succeeded in making Merlin angry.

"Whatever she is and whatever she's done, she doesn't deserve to die. I just hope she's safe, somewhere far away from here," he answered wistfully, the injustice in his voice fading into resignation. Arthur stood, moving away from his friend; he couldn't bear to be near him knowing that he had taken a blade to Freya; he had put her in danger and injured her, possibly even… He couldn't think about that yet.

The tolling of the warning bells startled him out of his thoughts as they alerted the city of danger. Merlin was off the bed in seconds, flying through the physician's chamber and into the corridors of the castle with Arthur hot on his heels. He remembered what happened next with horrifying clarity: trapping the druid girl into a corner; the striking of the bells to mark midnight; the chilling transformation of girl to beast. The sensation of his sword slicing through toned muscle and fur had him freezing as he heard the wounded cry of the Bastet echo across the town. He watched as Merlin halted in the courtyard where Freya was surrounded; saw himself approaching the beast with his sword raised. However, he witnessed something else that he had never noticed before happening, the Bastet's eyes lost their bloodthirst and the angered cries turned into whimpers. Arthur tracked its gaze until it rested on Merlin; the girl inside the beast recognized him. Freya had overcome that part of the curse because of her love for Merlin. She had stopped being a danger but the knights didn't know that, they continued their advance. Arthur kept his eyes on Merlin as his manservant looked tormented, gaze flashing from Arthur's past self to his lover, trying to choose who to help and who to die.

Suddenly, the head of a gargoyle loosened and crashed to the ground between him and the Bastet, sending all of the knights ducking as it shattered. Arthur watched as Merlin's eyes regained their natural colour and Freya flew off. His manservant had chosen to save them both. Merlin paused enough to make sure that Arthur hadn't been injured before sprinting away from the scene after the fleeing Bastet. The power of the spell dragging future Arthur along behind him through the now familiar twisting passageways until the wounded moans of the beast could be heard clearly. Merlin rounded a corner and there stood panting before him was the Bastet, Freya. The girl within the beast had won the fight for control and its eyes were soft with pain and love.

Slowly, Merlin reached out a hand to place on her forehead and Arthur's hand flew to where his sword would normally be instinctively but Freya didn't move, just shifted slightly under Merlin's warm palm. Love really could overcome all barriers it seemed, Arthur thought, watching the fond exchange. Freya turned suddenly, groaning in pain before limping further along the corridor and Arthur wondered when he had stopped seeing her as a beast.

In the distance, the roars grew louder and sharper in tone before morphing into the cries of a human in pain. Merlin stopped so abruptly that Arthur almost walked right through him, peeking out from behind a wall were a pair of legs. Arthur joined the dots together in his mind and didn't go any further, he would not rob Freya of her dignity when he may have robbed her of her… life. The thought left him breathless and he grabbed onto the idea that Merlin had managed to heal her just as a drowning sailor clings to a rope. Once he saw Merlin cover Freya with his jacket, he moved so that he could see how badly he had injured her. She was weeping and curled into a foetal position backed up against the wall. Arthur wished that he had never swung his sword and the tears that filled Merlin's own eyes only increased his grief for the couple.

"You must hate me," Freya choked out, her voice strained from pain and sadness. Merlin brushed his hands over her face and hair, trying to calm her and himself.

"No, no. Never," he objected, the horror at the idea evident in his voice, his eyes never leaving her face. Arthur knelt beside them, hands clasped tightly in his lap, listening to the story of how she was cursed to kill. She had no choice, the words rang over and over in his head. 'You may have killed an innocent girl, Merlin's love'. Arthur didn't know how he would ever be able to look at his friend again if she died.

"I'm going to make you better," Merlin promised desperately and hope flared within Arthur. Merlin would have healed her with magic and they had managed to be together in secret since then, he reasoned.

"You can't, the wound is too deep. Please go," Freya answered sadly, her eyes closing in pain. Arthur slumped further at her words, trying to hold onto his theory.

"No, I'm not leaving you here," Merlin said, gathering her up into his arms with such gentleness as if he was holding a new-born baby. Good, Arthur thought; take her to Gaius, he can treat the wound, but much to Arthur's confusion Merlin snuck right past the way to Gaius' chambers. Maybe he's taking her to the druids; they are known for their healing skills, he reasoned again when Merlin made it outside of the city. Arthur could hear his heart pounding in his ears as Merlin didn't stop, walking as if he was a man in a trance. Even when the heavens opened and it began to rain as if the sky was crying alongside them he kept walking. Arthur didn't know where Merlin had found that much strength and stamina to have carried Freya such a long distance from the city or why he had in the first place; it seemed to Arthur as if he was searching for somewhere.

When Merlin finally began to slow down as they passed out of a line of trees, Arthur knew exactly why. A lake stretched out in front of them with a surface so clear that the trees and mountains surrounding it were reflected on it. Gentle raindrops created ripples that travelled like cracks across it, making it seem like the lake was shattering under the force of the couple's emotions. The forest and mountains stood as a barrier, protecting them from the atrocities outside of the tranquil scenery around them.

Merlin sank to his knees and carefully lay Freya on the pebbled beach by the water's edge. She opened her eyes and turned her head to the side to gaze out across the lake, taking in the beauty of their shared dream.

"You remembered," she whispered, twisting back to look at him as his tears mingled with the raindrops leaking down his face.

"Of course," he replied, trying to muster a smile on his face. Arthur leant against the nearest tree as his throat threatened to close up, he tried to swallow the lump in it, tried to fight the burning in his eyes but found that he no longer had the energy to do so.

"There must be something I can do. Some way to save you," Merlin choked out, throat also constricted by emotion as he watched the girl he loved dying in his arms.

"You have already saved me: you made me feel loved," Freya responded, her eyes closing and head beginning to fall backwards. Arthur couldn't bear to look but he forced himself to; he would suffer the consequences of his actions as she had, and as Merlin had.

"But I don't want you to go," Merlin protested weakly, the unsaid words of 'like so many others I have loved' remaining lodged in his throat.

"Oh gods," Arthur gasped out as it finally fully hit him; there was no way Merlin could have saved her. He had killed her; the woman Merlin had loved. He had taken that joy away from his friend and still Merlin had continued to serve, protect and care for him, even helping him find his own love. How had Merlin bared to watch him and Gwen, knowing that he would never feel that again himself?

Arthur heard the agonized sob from Merlin and knew that Freya had passed away, he turned to look through blurry eyes as Merlin clutched Freya's body to his chest and wept. The sheer emotion in his voice telling of how deeply he had cared for her and how it had felt like his soul had been ripped in two.

It passed in slow motion for Arthur as he watched Merlin conjure a boat and fill it with a bed of fresh ferns before laying Freya inside. Then Merlin stepped back and shakily raised a hand.

"Astrice," he said softly, causing the boat to slowly move away from the beach and towards the centre of the lake with a flicker of golden eyes. Arthur heaved his body off the tree trunk and went to stand by his friend's shoulder. Merlin went to raise his arm again but was overcome with emotion as he fought to keep the beautiful image of Freya alive in his mind. Gradually, he lifted it once more and whispered the words of a spell, tears trickling down his face. Fire spread through the boat and engulfed it in a golden glow, separating them forever. He turned away from the scene, the perfect dream he had created in his mind shattering into pieces that slashed at his heart.

Arthur continued to stand completely still even as he felt the pull of the vision fading, he fought it desperate to keep that memory alive as if to let it end would be like killing Freya over again. Those four hideous words dominating his thoughts: he had killed Freya. He gave in like the coward he believed himself to be, collapsing to his knees and refusing to acknowledge the presence of Gwen or the other knights as he stared straight ahead. No tears fell from his eyes nor did a single word pass his throat, the guilt making him blind, deaf and dumb.

He was broken from his thoughts by the presence of a hand gripping his; it was calloused from work and thin. It was Merlin's. He gazed at his friend's face as, although his eyes remained closed, his mouth began to move. He leant closer, prepared to hear the cruel insults he deserved but instead Merlin whispered three single words that took Arthur by complete surprise.

"I forgive you."