I have another Merlin/Freya story for all of you! I wrote this to celebrate my 10th uploaded story and 6 months on .
I have no idea of what types of dancing was done in the middle ages but for the sake of the story I just did a sort of ballroom dance.
Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin
It was a beautiful evening. Cool and fresh, even in the tunnels deep beneath Camelot. The candles flickered every now and then, casting an eerie glow over the rough stone walls of the alcove. Merlin was enjoying it, being here with Freya, his Freya. He should really have been doing his chores for both Arthur and Gaius but having Freya cling to him was much better then having leaches suck the blood from him. Merlin sighed in contentment and relaxed even more, fingers running through Freya's dark smooth hair. She looked up at him and Merlin felt himself sinking into her eyes and drowning in the chocolate brown pools. He leaned in slightly to kiss her gently on the lips and then pulled back with an idea. His eyes glowed gold for a moment and suddenly their little room was filled with music. Merlin looked back down at the girl in his arms and smiled.
"Dance with me?" He asked. She answered by lowering her head and placing a soft kiss on his forehead.
"Yes." She breathed. Merlin stood up, dislodging their makeshift blanket and bowed before offering his hand. Freya took it gracefully and pulled herself to her feet. She was dressed in tattered fabric and was covered in cuts and bruises, but to Merlin she was gorgeous.
He placed his left hand on Freya's thin waist and clasped hands with her. She did the same to him and they shared a smile before they began.
At first it was slow and methodical, getting to know each other and they way they both moved. It was pleasant and Merlin enjoyed every second of it. Forgetting about his worries and just being in the moment while it lasted. He twirled Freya around, narrowly missing colliding with the wall. The candlelight danced along with the two people, accompanying them as they wandered around the place that they could call their own for a short while.
He was no longer the clumsy farm boy that could trip over flat ground but someone who, for those perfect few minutes, could glide and whirl over the stone floor. He was no longer a boy but a grown man who had seen and heard many things. He was no longer innocent, but Freya was fighting back the guilt and the horror that was living inside him.
It was perfect, and he wished that it could go on forever. It did, until a rock seemed to think that enough was enough and Merlin happened to trip over it. He fell to the ground taking Freya with him and just lay there thinking. Then his eyes flashed gold a last time and the room was plunged into darkness.
Hope that you liked this little ficlet of mine.