Arthur gazed affectionately at Gwen as Merlin puttered about behind them, arranging dinner.
"I still can't believe how lucky I was…I owe that boy my life and...I don't know who he was or where he's from."
Gwen raised her chin, schooling her features into a look of loving sympathy and relief despite the rage she felt that she was not now gazing upon Arthur's corpse.
"We need to make sure we give him a decent burial," Arthur stated firmly.
Merlin turned to look at him, expression unreadable. "I'll do that," he answered, bringing Arthur's plate to the table at last. "If...you'll allow me the time."
Arthur paused only briefly, pleased with the opening Merlin had unwittingly provided. "Oh, so you can go and visit that girl again," he said, trying to keep his tone light and nonchalant.
Gwen tried to catch Arthur's gaze and warn him to tread carefully. She could only hope that Merlin would go along with the cover she had given...after all, he could not confess to leaving Camelot to provide aid to a druid...or would he?
Merlin did not appear caught off guard, despite Arthur's casual attempt at uncovering his "secret."
"What?" Merlin answered, setting Gwen's plate before her.
Arthur pressed on. "Girl," he repeated, with a teasing smile.
Merlin walked back to the table where the dinner dishes were set out, limping slightly. "Don't have one," he retorted.
Arthur tensed, slightly affronted. "That's not what Guinevere tells me."
It was Merlin's turn to stiffen. He turned, locking eyes with Gwen, who smiled back encouragingly.
"So," Arthur continued, "Why don't you tell us all about her?"
Merlin poured Arthur's wine, his demeanor stiff and guarded. He glanced briefly at Arthur but was not forthcoming.
Arthur was growing slightly angry. Why was this such an issue for Merlin? He had thought his manservant, no, his friend, would have shared something like this with him already. What need would he have to be secretive?
Merlin looked to Gwen, who smiled again, settling back into her seat with excitement. She couldn't wait to see what response the bumpkin would deliver. Inwardly, she seethed. How had he survived Morgana?
Merlin smiled, but it did not reach his eyes as he walked to fill Guinevere's wine cup. "Right."
As the wine steadily streamed into her goblet, Merlin matched her smile and imperceptibly vicious gaze.
"...and why you're walking with a limp," Arthur added sternly, taking a sip of wine.
He was truly put out now; why would Merlin disappear without warning, for two days no less, and then offer no explanation of where he'd been or why he was clearly injured?
Still focused on Gwen and her perfectly innocent appearance, Merlin was fuming with anger. This was all wrong, and Gwen was not making things any better. Without this, he could have gone with Gaius' regular excuse and say he'd been injured in a tavern brawl.
But now...Merlin sighed, setting down the wine pitcher.
Arthur was waiting, and clearly upset. Merlin turned to face him, quirking a grin. "So you want to know all about my woman then, sire." He paused, unsure of how next to proceed, and in a moment, the familiar pain was crashing down on him. And all he could say was the truth.
"She's beautiful. And kind. She loved...loves strawberries. She didn't know how special she was. And her smile...was everything." Merlin was glad he'd put the pitcher down, as his hands and voice were beginning to shake.
Arthur froze, gripping his goblet so hard his knuckles turned white. "Was?" he croaked.
Eyes bright with tears he could not shed, Merlin took a deep breath, hoping to ease the vice around his heart. "I'm sorry I was gone so long, my lord. I...fell on the way back, and injured my leg. I was visiting her grave."
At this announcement, something of the real Gwen struggled to the surface, and her mouth fell open in horror. "I'm sorry Merlin," she breathed. He turned to face her, struggling to quell his rage that this malicious shell of his friend would express sympathy after forcing him into this revelation but was stopped by the sincere grief on her face. "What was her name?" she asked gently, placing a hand on his arm. Screaming filled her mind as the enchantment snapped back into place, and Merlin took a step back as he saw the dark glimmer return to her eyes.
Silently cursing Morgana, cursing Arthur's curiosity, and cursing his failure to lie, he fairly fled from the room.
"Merlin."
Arthur's voice halted him just as he reached the door, and he could not help himself.
He turned to face his king, despair etched on his face. "Her name was Freya."
Arthur stared in shock as his servant left the room, fairly slamming the door behind him.
Freya.
And in the heavy silence that followed, as Arthur vainly tried to imagine a life without Gwen, the king of Camelot fought the urge to weep.