Author's Note: This is unbeta-ed and written late at night before a school day. I know Freya's pretty out of character, but I like to think that Merlin gave her some self-confidence and when she's not terrified she will be caught she's actually quite a clever girl. Sorry for American-isms and things spelt the American way. I tried, but I get mad when spell check corrects "realise" to "realize" so I often just leave it.
DISCLAMER: I don't own anything. I just wondered what it would be like to explore that Lancelot found on the other side of the veil.
Lancelot had been holding his breath. He awaited pain with his eyes closed, but, as time ticked by and nothing happened, he slowly opened his eyes, unsure of what he would see. The first thing he noticed was the brightness. All around him shown brilliant white lights, gleaming like marble in the sunlight. He was confused, for he had expected the other half of the veil to be dark and loud, filled with the wailings of the Dorocha, not the bright silence he had found. He turned around, searching for the visible crack that had cut through the air before he passed through. He saw more whiteness, until his gaze travelled downward and he saw a dark shape on the ground. Slowly, he walked over to it (he was surprised to find he still had legs). He reached a shaky arm out to it before it moved. From behind a veil of black hair shown the gleaming white face of a young girl.
"Hello," Lancelot ventured, lost for more enlightened words.
"Hello," the girl mimicked. She reached a pale hand up and brushed more hair out of her eyes.
"What happened? Am I dead?" Lancelot inquired, finally finding the words to ask the question he most desired an answer to.
"Sort of," was all the girl replied, before glancing down and examining her nails.
"Sort of? How can I be "sort of" dead?" Lancelot was getting frustrated with the enigma crouched into a ball before him.
"You walked into the realm of the dead but you did not die." The girl looked up at Lancelot and he was struck with how pretty her features were. She looked wild but gentle at the same time. He thought back to the word he had used before to describe her: enigma. Yes, he thought, that seems right.
"Is that what you're doing her too? You passed through the veil while you were still alive?"
The girl shook her head. "I died but something keeps me tethered to the other side. You and I, we aren't fully dead. But we aren't fully alive either. We're in Limbo, no man's land."
"Then are we stuck here forever?" Lancelot questioned, wondering to himself whether or not he would enjoy spending an eternity with only this strange girl for a neighbor.
"The funny thing about where we are is that it is neither Here nor There. It is a passage way. But it is a two-way door."
"So we can go back? How?" Lancelot leaned in towards the girl, bending his knees so that he was almost at her level.
"If you can find a reason, you can find a way," was all she answered before turning back to her examining her nails.
Lancelot began to speak, ready to list the multitude of reasons for why he should return, but, before any words came out, he realized that none of this reasons really mattered any more. Guinevere had Arthur. Arthur had Merlin to protect him. The Knights had each other. He had no family to return to.
"How do I find a reason?" he finally asked.
"Think about how you got here, and go from there." She looked up and smiled at him.
"Speaking of how we got here, how did a beautiful maiden like yourself end up in Limbo?" He asked, desperate to turn the conversation away from himself.
"Freya," she whispered, like it was a secret.
"Sorry?" Lancelot furrowed his brow at her answer.
"My name is Freya, and I'm certainly no beautiful maiden."
"That's a beautiful name, for a beautiful girl. But you still didn't answer my question."
"It all started when I was just a girl, fourteen or fifteen. A sorcerer attacked me and I was scared. I was so, so scared. I didn't think, I just acted, instinctually. And I – I killed him." She cast her eyes downward.
"With magic?" Lancelot probed.
"With magic," she affirmed, before continuing. "After I killed him, his mother appeared and swore that for the blood lust I had shown then by killing her only child, I would be cursed with lusting for blood every night."
"That doesn't seem like a logical punishment," Lancelot laughed. "She wanted to avenge a death by making you kill more people."
"Imagine being afraid of ever getting close to someone because if you were around them when the sun went down, you would tear their throat out. Imagine being feared by your friends and rejected by the druids, the one people who claim to accept everybody." He voice grew quiet and she bit her lower lip.
"But you're so small; couldn't they just lock you up at night?" Lancelot reasoned.
"If the curse had only provided the motive, that probably would have worked. But it also gave the means: every night I was to become a Bastet, a massive black cat with wings and sharp fangs. I was a monster. Nothing could stop me. At least, at first. But I'll come to that part of the story soon.
"I was cast out by druids and left to protect myself, but I let my guard down and I was captured by a bounty hunter. He brought me to Camelot in a cage and prepared me to sell to Uther. But for all his brawn, Halig was stupid and he left me alone. Or maybe he just figured that no one else would be stupid enough to save a cursed druid girl. But one boy, one magnificent, beautiful boy, was brave enough to save me. He broke me out from my cage and brought me to a cave where he took care of me. He stole food for me, and a beautiful dress, and we… well, he thought we were going to run away together. But he didn't know my curse. I couldn't tell him. Not the one person in my life who did not see me as a monster. I was much too selfish, I stayed in Camelot much too long because I wanted to be with my angel. But every night I killed more and more people. And every day I hated myself more and more for the monster I was. One night, while in my Bastet form, I was corned by Halig and Prince Arthur and his knights. Arthur wounded me, and I grew enraged, ready to strike at him, until I saw my boy. He helped me escape and followed me back to the cave. Somehow, when I saw him, I could fight the urge to kill. But the wound from the Prince was too great and I was destined to die. But my boy, my stupid, brilliant boy, could not let go of me, so he dressed me in a beautiful gown and he brought me to Lake Avalon, which we were going to run away to. Before I died, I promised him I would repay him, and he put me in a wooden boat and set me to sail on the water. His magic set my little vessel aflame and I was given a funeral pyre more brilliant than my entire dark life. But something happened in that fire. Something between my curse and my own magic, his magic, and our love for each other anchored just a bit of my soul to the lake Avalon. I can always feel the running of the water all around me, and, when I choose, see through its glassy windows. Lake Avalon is a part of me, and I a part of it."
Lancelot was silent for a moment, in awe of her story, before he remembered a phrase he had heard in stories before. "The Lady of the Lake," he murmured. "I was raised hearing stories about you, and your power. Your wisdom guides the great kings and your assistance wins wars."
"The Lady of the Lake," Freya repeated, like it was a new name she was considering for herself, mulling over the sound. Suddenly, she brightened. "You didn't tell me what you're doing here, what drove you to step through the veil."
"Originally Prince Arthur was going to pass through the veil, but my friend believed it to be his destiny to save him, so he decided he would take his place. I realized then that there was a certain amount of loyalty I owed to my friends both by being a knight of Camelot and because they were my friends. I wished that I had the courage inside me to walk towards certain death to save my best friend and the future of my home. So I helped him get back to the Isle of the Blessed and find Arthur, but when the time came, and he knocked Arthur out, it was I that stepped forward while Merlin was distracted and entered the veil."
"What did you say?" Freya perked up, leaning towards Lancelot.
"I stepped forward and entered the veil," Lancelot repeated.
"No, before that! Whose place did you take?" She asked as though it was the most important question she had ever asked.
"Merlin. My friend from Camelot. He's just a servant but-"
Lancelot was cut off as Freya began to beam widely, tears filling the brims of her eyes and threatening to flow over.
"What is it?" Lancelot asked, suddenly conscious about what he had been saying.
"Merlin," was all Freya could choke out as stay tears streaked down her face.
"You know him?" Lancelot leaned backwards, not sure if the crying girl required comforting or space.
"Very well," she nodded. "He's my angel."
"Merlin was the boy who helped you escape and bound your soul to the Lake?" Lancelot asked, his eyes opening wide.
"Yes. And you save his life. And for that, I will always be in your debt."
"There's no need to thank me. If I had let him go instead, you two would be reunited here. No, it's not you that should thank me, it's the world. Because if Merlin and Arthur are still fighting together, I have no doubt that Camelot will find beauty it has only dreamed about."
"You know what Sir Lancelot? I think you're right," Freya agreed. She reached out a hand and the knight pulled her to her feet. "And I think, good sir, that you have found your reason."
"What do you mean?" Lancelot asked. "And how do you know my name?"
"You have stories about the Lady of the Lake," she reminded him. "The druids have stories about Sir Lancelot and the brave nights of Camelot. You, Lancelot, will sow many seeds of discord in the future, but, without you, Camelot will never reach heights high enough to fall from. It may be Merlin's destiny to protect Prince Arthur, but who is to protect Merlin?"
"You think I should return, then, to watch out for Merlin?" Lancelot looked into Freya's eyes and found the waters of Lake Avalon reflecting deep inside them.
"I think that if you don't, there's no point in you being here in the first place. Merlin is a great man, but his heart is too big. He needs to learn that he can't save every sad girl he finds in a cage on the side of the road," Freya assured Lancelot. "Plus, I need you to return so that you can give a message to him from me."
She leaned in close and whispered it in his ear. He nodded once and closed his eyes.
Freya watched as her new friend vanished.
"Good Luck, Sir Lancelot," she whispered to the empty space he had once occupied. "Take care of my Merlin."
Reviews are like Christmas for me, and I appreciate all feedback. If it's negative stuff, I'd appreciate if you'd tell me what I can improve, not just that it's bad. Thanks for getting through that!