Chapter One

A/N: Hey guys! Before we start, I've gotten a couple of messages asking me to clarify the reason Merlin was injured in the last story. I hinted that there was a reason but never really gave the answer up front. The reason for that is because the characters, themselves, don't know why. But since apparently you guys want to know, I'll go ahead and give you the behind-the-scenes reason (even though it isn't really important to the story lol... All you really needed to know, I explained in Turnabout Destinies, but here you go:)

The reason was because the creature needed to be able to tell the prophecy to both Merlin AND Arthur simultaneously for them to understand. Being a creature of magic, it couldn't communicate with Arthur so it had to subdue Merlin to weaken his magic, making him susceptible to Arthur "listening" to the prophecy through Merlin's mind (which is why he saw images of Freya).

I know it probably still doesn't make an enormous amount of sense but I'm (ironically) terrible at explaining things XD Sorry...

Their words mostly noises

Ghosts with just voices

Your words in my memory

Are like music to me

I'm miles from where you are,

I lay down on the cold ground

I, I pray that something picks me up

And sets me down in your warm arms

~~"Set Fire To The Third Bar", by Snow Patrol

"I want all of you back in one piece, is that clear?" Arthur barks, sounding as commanding as ever as he considers the men standing before him. The king is pacing thoughtfully and there's a distinct pinch between his eyes that could easily be mistaken for irritation... But there's also that familiar softness under his harsh tone that gives away the concern he holds for the knights standing dutifully in front of him. And Merlin, who is beside his friend like always, knows his worry isn't in vain... "You're going to be riding against some of the most threatening mercenaries we've ever encountered. All of them are trained murders, armed, and extremely dangerous." Arthur continues, folding his arms over his chest. "But I know that each and every one of you are just as skilled. Some of you I've fought beside since I was a boy, others I trained myself. And I have every faith in your abilities, but remember that one man's strength is no match for an army. You're all brothers in arms, so keep each other safe. Understood?"

"Yes Sire." Comes the collection of voices in response.

"Good." Arthur replies, nodding his head. "You'll be reporting to Sir Leon. I want word sent back as soon as you reach camp."

"Yes Sire." As soon as the king motions that they're dismissed, the knights mount their horses and ride off toward the forest, leaving Arthur and Merlin standing alone in the courtyard, the former of which finally letting out his anxious sigh.

"I should be going with them..." Arthur mutters as he turns back toward the castle, Merlin close on his heels. Despite his friend's clear anxiety, though, there's a strange smile on the warlock's face.

"Arthur, I know you want to be there for your men, but you're king now. You can't fight every battle yourself. You have to trust your knights." The sorcerer reminds him, his smile turning apologetic when Arthur sputters out some assurance that he does trust them, he just likes to be there. To be sure they're alright. "And besides," Merlin continues, a hint of laughter tinting his voice. "You should be here for Gwen. She needs you right now."

At that, Arthur's worried expression melts away and he's left with a soft smile of his own. "I suppose you're right about that, at least." He admits, glancing up at the window to his and his wife's chambers, hoping to catch a glimpse of the queen. But no such luck. She must still be with Gaius...

For a moment, thoughtful silence passes between them. After all, they've only just received the news the prior evening. It's a lot to take in. But, as usual, it's Merlin who breaks the silence.

"Have you and Gwen given any thought as to what you're going to name it?" He asks, gently elbowing the king to pull his wandering mind back to reality.

"Not yet." Arthur tells him, smirking once again. "We've only just found out, after all. We're still just trying to get our heads around it." He hesitates for a moment, fighting against all the nervous twists in his stomach and the way his pulse quickens when he thinks about it. "Neither of us have any idea what we're doing...it's uncharted territory."

"Not entirely." Merlin points out. "I mean, it's not like you're completely alone in this. You've got Gaius, he's cared for all the children of Camelot, including yourself. And there are Gwen's maids, as well. Certainly at least one of them must know something about raising a child."

"You're right." Arthur sighs, running his fingers through his hair before huffing out a deep sigh. "I just...want to do it right. I loved my father and respected him but...he didn't always make it easy on me. Being his son, I mean. There were times when I resented him and his decisions and I never want my child to feel like they're not cared for, the way I used to..."

"Arthur-" Merlin begins to protest, rolling his eyes because he knows Arthur is nothing at all like his father in those aspects. Sure, he might be a bit crass sometimes but not with his family. Guinevere is treated like gold and he's certain Arthur's future child will be looked upon as if they were made of diamond. But Arthur interrupts him before he can voice any of that.

"I mean it, Merlin. I don't want to make the same mistakes my father did. I want this child to know they're loved and I never want them to think-even for a moment-that anything else is more important than they are." Merlin doesn't see it, but Arthur can't help but flinch a bit as he says those words. Solely because of this newfound 'connection' he shares with his friend. This new destiny of his...it still hangs over him like a looming cloud, constantly pulling his thoughts in Merlin's direction. Merlin has assured him it used to be that way for him too, back when he first discovered his destiny, and that the constant worrying will fade with time... But that hardly makes him feel batter.

He doesn't mind worrying for his friend's well being...what he does mind is the fact that he still can't shake that near gut instant that nothing else comes before him now... Arthur isn't sure what he would do if forced to choose between Merlin and his people but he doesn't ever think he'll need to make that choice.

What does frighten him, however, is the very real possibility of needing to choose between a member of his own growing family...and his destiny. Gods, he can't even bring himself to imagine what might happen if he was made to choose between Gwen-or Gods forbid his unborn child-and Merlin...

His heart knows he would have to choose his family, of course, but...

There's still that urge, that uncanny, over-protective instinct stirring in him that says he needs to keep Merlin safe. That if Merlin dies, it will simply be the end of all the things. And if what the Awirgan Wéod said all those months ago is to be believed then...that might very well be the case.

Still, it worries him to no end.

"And I'm sure they will know that." Merlin replies sincerely. "You're going to make an excellent father, Arthur, and Gwen is going to be a wonderful mother. So just relax and stop fretting."

Deciding to take his friend's advise to heart for now and stop his useless worrying, Arthur sighs and playfully punches Merlin's shoulder, eliciting a sharp snap of protest from him. "You know, Merlin, it's times like these when I'm reminded you're not as much of a bumbling fool as you look."

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" The other man asks dryly, raising an eyebrow in Arthur's direction.

"Hardly." The king snorts. "You may not be as stupid as you seem, but you're still fairly dull."

"And you're still a clotpole."

"You need to come up with some new insults. Clotpole is getting a little old, don't you think?"

"Hm, I suppose you're right. How about Dollophead? I haven't used that one in a while. And it suits you perfectly...Sire."

Arthur makes a disgruntled sound as he punches Merlin's arm again, a little harder than necessary this time. "I'm going to have to keep my child as far away from you as I can...for fear they might pick up some of your atrocious manners."

"I don't think you'll need to worry about me spending too much time with them, what with how busy you've been keeping me..." Merlin grumbles as they approach the castle doors. "I probably won't even catch a glance until they're at least eighteen at this rate. If I'm lucky."

With that, Merlin starts up the stone, spiral staircase that leads to his chambers, Arthur countering with a few choice insults including "useless" and "lazy" before bidding his friend goodbye and heading to the throne room, where apparently a handful of peasants are waiting for him to hear them out.

Probably more farmers needing seeds for their fields... Arthur decides with a sigh. How exciting.

If there's one thing Merlin wasn't expecting when he was appointed court sorcerer, it was getting his own chambers. But apparently, Arthur had personally chosen a room not too far from his own to be stocked with all the necessary things a sorcerer might need. Including all the magic texts Uther had gathered and locked in the vault, some herbs and equipment not too much different from Gaius's, as well as a bed almost as cushy as the king's...almost...and a handful of servants to run errands for him whenever he needs something.

Of course, Merlin didn't find any of this out until months after he was anointed. Probably because of the illness he suffered for so long, even after recovering from the injury he sustained from Mordred's blade... Arthur and Gaius most likely wanted him to remain in the physician's quarters until they were sure he was okay.

But once it became obvious he was on the road to recovery, they sprung the surprise on him the way only Arthur would. By mocking him for being a grown man living in someone else's home and insisting that he move elsewhere. Only to rather forcibly escort him to his new home...the sight of which had caused a lump to form in Merlin's throat and his eyes to burn a bit from "the dust" in the room.

Now, as the young warlock stands in the threshold on his new chambers, he can't help but smile fondly at Arthur's handiwork. Being king really does have it's advantages, he supposes. And so does being the king's friend.

Snorting in amusement, Merlin lets the heavy wooden door fall shut behind him as he moves toward his work bench, where his spell book-one of many he now possesses, even though the one Gaius gave him is still his favorite-is laying wide open in broad daylight, the mysterious words laid bare for anyone to see...

He still shivers knowing that.

Book in hand, the sorcerer finds his way to the tall, arched window at the side of his chambers that overlooks the courtyard. Settling down onto the nest of blankets layed there, he leans against the cold stone wall and smirks out at his kingdom before thumbing through the pages of his book to the last spell he's been working on...

In the empty hall outside Merlin's chambers, all seems peaceful and unperturbed for a while. The warm summer breeze drifts in through an open window and spotlights of sun fall upon the stone floor. No servants pass through, not even any guards are currently stationed in the area.

That is, until the distinct clanging of metal armor resounds from somewhere further down the corridor. Gwaine's footsteps are quick and urgent, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword to keep it from jostling too much as he runs.

He doesn't know what's going on but, if the look on Arthur's face when he sent him to find Merlin means anything, it must be something serious.

The knight reaches Merlin's door only a few minutes after leaving the throne room and as soon as it's within knocking-distance, he's pounding on the heavy wood with his fist, shouting for Merlin to open up.

And the sorcerer does so only seconds later, eyes wide, bewildered. "Gwaine?" He asks. "What's the matter?"

"Arthur needs you in the throne room immediately. He looked serious." The knight reports, a bit breathlessly. "Said there was someone there for you."

"For me?" Merlin echoes, not wasting anymore time as he pulls the door closed and follows Gwaine through the hall in the direction of the throne room. "Who was it?"

"I don't know, Mate." Gwaine replies, their steps still feverish. "Some woman."

"My mother?" Merlin asks urgently, fearing that something may have happened in Ealdor or she might be in trouble again or-

"I don't think so, Mate, she didn't look old enough to be anyone's mother."

So she's young? Merlin is about to ask for some kind of physical description but by now, they've reached the massive doors leading into the throne room. Forgetting himself in the heat of the moment, he doesn't bother allowing the guards to announce him, with a simple push of his mind and a flash of gold in his eyes, the doors swing open and Merlin hurries in, Gwaine right on his heels.

Arthur is standing unceremoniously close to the young woman in front of him, his expression questioning and confused. But the king and his guest both hear Merlin enter and the former's gaze instantly snaps to Merlin's, while the latter's posture stiffens a bit but she doesn't turn around.

However urgent they were a moment ago, both Gwaine and Merlin pause once inside the door, hesitating at the sight in front of them. Maybe for different reasons, though...

It isn't easy for Gwaine to miss the tension in the air but for Merlin, it's much heavier, like thick summer heat and he feels a little choked. He knows the distant feeling of foreboding isn't his, it's Arthur's, passing to him through their strange 'connection'...but that doesn't eliminate its presence and he can't help that his stomach twists because of it.

"Merlin," Arthur begins slowly, his eyes flickering back to the woman next to him, who hasn't turned to face the newcomers yet, although her thin frame visibly stiffens.

"You called for me, Sire?" Merlin asks, trying to remain polite in front the stranger, but Arthur can tell the real question is 'Who is she? What's going on?'.

Arthur gives him a wary look before addressing the woman. He opens his mouth to speak but before he gets the chance, she slowly turns. Her wide, dark eyes connecting with Merlin's immediately...and the sheer familiarity, coupled with the instantaneous heartache...is paralyzing to the young sorcerer.

His mouth suddenly feels dry and his heart is thumping in his ribs. This has to be a dream... There's no way this is real. And yet... He takes a clumsy, confused step forward, blue eyes shining with a plethora of mixed emotions and the name cracks from his throat before he can stop it.

"F-Freya...?"