This story is kind of a Christmas present for my cousin, since the idea for it came from a conversation with her. I've been working on it for several months, but I really worked hard to get the first chapter up before Christmas. I'm planning on this being 3-5 chapters long, but that's just an estimate, so we'll see how it goes. Also, disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. So enjoy! Reviews-positive or negative- are always appreciated!
Merlin had fallen in love before. Just never like this.
He had fallen for countless pretty girls, and each time it was the same; he was hopelessly in love with them as soon as he saw them, his feelings intense and painful-and then the emotions would quickly vanish.
Only not with Freya.
The first time he saw her, she was covered in dirt and filth, wearing a dress that wasn't much more than rags, but that wasn't what Merlin saw when he looked at her.
He saw her eyes. They were filled with fear and despair, as though she'd forgotten how to hope. As though she hadn't experienced love or kindness in so long, she'd forgotten what they were. His heart immediately went out to her; in the way of sympathy, not love, at first. In that instance, he knew he had to help her. It could have been him, lost and alone, his journey ending in a cage. It would have been him, had it not been for the love and kindness of others: his mother, Gaius, Will, and all those who had helped him and kept his secret. And so, while Gaius slept that night, he snuck out and freed the girl, taking her down to the tunnels underneath the city where he knew no one would look for her. Merlin's heart ached for the girl when he saw her fear and mistrust of the simple kindness he offered her. She must have been lonely for so long. How could she have survived, trusting no one, loving no one? It was a question he would never know the answer to.
He fell in love with her quickly, though not instantly. She was the one person he could truly be himself around; and not just that, but he could help her, make her happy by being who he truly was. And she understood, she understood all too well what it was to be different, to be separate from those around oneself. She understood in a way no one else ever had.
When they first kissed, it felt pure and sweet and beautiful: a moment of bliss, of separation from their tangled lives. And though the moment tried to last into eternity, it eventually had to end. Merlin had to leave the beautiful girl and return to his life in the castle above. But from that moment, something changed inside of him. His destiny, something that had seemed so important, so vitally important, now felt insignificant and distant. He had a new purpose to his life now, and her name was Freya.
And so, he made plans to run away with her. And he was the happiest he'd been in a long time, dreaming of a life with no more secrets, no more lies. A life spent with someone he loved more than any other. A life where he was his own person, not the servant and shadow of another.
He knew what he what he was giving up. He knew he was leaving behind the friendship of many here: Arthur, Gwen, even Morgana. And Gaius. Gaius, who was like a father to him, was the hardest to leave behind. But it was worth it.
It was worth it because of the look in Freya's eyes when she saw him. The look in her eyes when she saw that she was loved, for the first time in he didn't know how long. She needed him, he knew, more than anyone did here in Camelot. And he needed her: he didn't need to hide who he was around her. He could just be himself and be understood. No one had ever given him that opportunity before.
So he planned. But his plans were ruined when she left first.
At first, he had hoped that she was long gone and safe. But when the warning bells began to ring, he knew that was only wishful thinking.
As the ensuing battle continued, there was only one thought in his mind: don't let them hurt Freya. He sent a gargoyle tumbling down on Arthur, taking the chance that the prince would be hurt in the crash. But in that moment, it didn't matter. For the first and only time since he arrived at Camelot, he was unconcerned with Arthur's safety, and wholly absorbed in worry for another.
He found Freya back in the caves, human again. He murmured reassurances to her as she told him how she had become what she was. He looked over her wound, frantically trying to assess the damage and figure out how to heal her.
"I'm going to make you better, Freya," he said desperately, trying to reassure himself as much as he was reassuring her.
"No, Merlin, the wounds are too deep. Please go". As Freya spoke, her breaths became shallower, and her voice died down to a whisper.
"No," Merlin said, heartbreak evident in his voice as he watched Freya succumb to the wound. More and more time passed between each breath she took, until her breathing almost ceased altogether. Her eyes slowly closed, and only the smallest thread of air was making its way into her lungs.
"No," Merlin said again, despair in his voice, and in that instant he knew that he could not let Freya die. Drawing strength from the part of himself where the fire of his magic always lay, he moved his hand over Freya and spoke in the strange tongue of the Old Religion. His voice was soft, but the words seemed to echo against the very walls from the intensity at which he had spoken them. His eyes burned gold as he chanted, a fiery light in them.
For an instant that stretched into an eternity, nothing happened. Tears began to form in Merlin's eyes as he thought that he had lost the only girl he'd ever loved. Then Freya took a long, shuddering breath, and Merlin did weep; but now, it was from relief.