Even after all this time, Merlin still imagined seeing traces of Freya. Every now and then he would think hearing her voice, hearing her laughter, when it would just be someone else talking, or just the wind playing tricks with his mind.

In moments like these he always closed his eyes, and in front of him he would see her smiling back at him. Her hand reached out towards him, inviting him to come with her. But every time he tried taking her hand in his, the image of her would fade away, like his subconscious were telling him they could never be, not now, not anymore.

There were also the moments when he imagined seeing her walking around in town when he was running errands for Gaius or Arthur without having anything that triggered him to see her. He would then follow after her, only to see that he had just mistaken another woman as her, or ending up in a dead end, and Freya completely vanished.

Other things that triggered his mind to remember her could be anything really, anything from a certain scent, a sound or a certain object. Strawberries always had that effect on him. Every time he saw someone selling strawberries at the market he would remember that time he had tried, but failed, to conjure Freya some berries. He would remember her amusement as she pointed the failure out. The memory would make him smile sadly for himself. Sometimes he bought a handful of strawberries and brought them to the lake where he would it half of them, and the rest he would throw out in the lake, so she could have some of the delicious berries too. It could be something someone said, or did, that triggered the memories, or when he was just doing his chores for Arthur. It was almost always the same image playing in front of him; Freya smiling warmly at him, her dark, warm, friendly eyes twinkling, her hand reached out towards him. But sometimes, the image of her wouldn't disappear when he tried taking her hand, but instead be unreachable, her body slipping further and further away from him no matter how much he tried following her.

In these moments, his heart, his whole chest would fill with such a choking pain that he would find it impossible to breathe and his vision would become so blurred by tears to see anything at all, and he would have to stop whatever he was doing to take a few moments to gather himself. He would often sink down against a wall, unable to do anything else, thinking about her, trying to focus on his breathing while tears silently traced down his cheeks. He would feel a strong anger towards Arthur for killing her and he wanted nothing more than to be as far away from the king as possible. He wanted revenge too, but could never figure something out. During days when his heart wasn't heavy from mourning her, missing her, he knew he wasn't the kind of person who would revenge on the prince, even he wanted it, and a small rational part told him Arthur had only killed her to protect Camelot, having no idea that Freya hadn't been a monster. But that small rational part of him was hard to listen to, and he knew a part of him would always blame, and never forgive Arthur for Freya's death.

This time, the image of her was just a couple of metres away from him, but for every step he took towards her, she slipped further back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered with a thick voice, as he always did, "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you," a moment of silence, "Please forgive me,"

She smiled back at him, telling him nothing was his fault. This was the first time she had actually speaking with him, and it wasn't someone else he had thought was her. And it was different from other times he had imagined her voice, those time he had imagined exactly what she would say. This time he didn't imagine her words. Other times she would disappear as soon as he had opened his mouth to speak.

"I miss you so much," he whispered as tears started to fill his eyes. To which she responded she would always be with him. For as long as he would remember her, she would always stay close to him.

"I will always remember you. I love you."

She smiled sadly as she came closer to him, very gently brushing the tears away from his cheeks. She placed a kiss on his forehead, and while doing so she had to stand tip-toed because he was much taller than her. He closed his eyes and took everything about her in and let it embrace him. From the feeling of her lips on his skin, her hands cupping around his cheeks, her long hair tickling his face and the faint scent of her.

"I'm so sorry…" he whispered one last time as she started to vanish again, slow but steady.

"Sorry about what?" a voice suddenly said beside him and he was abruptly brought back into reality again. Startled he flinched, looking disorient around himself. He was standing at the training grounds. How long he had been there, starring into the nothing, he didn't know, but beside him the prince was standing. Before looking directly at the prince he wiped away the tears from his eyes.

"Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," Arthur apologised, "Are you okay?" he sounded worried.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Merlin smiled weakly, Arthur looking sceptically back at him.

"You looked like your mind was up in the clouds. I tried to get your attention for a really long time now but you didn't seem to be able to hear me at all,"

"Really, I'm fine,"

Arthur sighed. "Well, if you're fine, then maybe you could start polishing my armour before it rusts into pieces, and when you're finished you can muck out the stables, something I asked you to do 20 minutes ago," with a smug face he dropped the armour into his servant's arms, who of course dropped it on the ground. Arthur rolled his eyes and began walking away as Merlin bent down to pick up the armour again. While on the ground, a movement got caught in the corner of his eye. When he looked up he saw something disappear into the safety the trees in the forest provided. He could have sworn he had seen a woman in dark hair and long purple dress. Freya's word echoed inside his mind, that as long as he remembered her, she would always stay close to him. He wasn't sure if she had meant it literally or figuratively speaking. Like you told someone that lost people always remain inside them, in their hearts and memory. Freya would always have a special place in his heart and he knew he would never forget her. No matter how much time that passed he knew he would always remember her. But he liked to think it was the first too. Even thought they would never be able to actually see each other again, the knowledge that she was watching him, in one way or another, somehow brought comfort to him. And it made him happy that she let him see her now and then.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted over his shoulder without turning around to see why his servant was loitering. Without answering Merlin got to his feet and hurried after him. But he cast one last glance over his shoulder to where he had seen Freya disappearing behind the trees. At first he didn't see anything but the forest's vegetation. But suddenly, she was standing there, leaning with an arm against a tree. Uncertainly he raised a hand, and she waved back. He smiled and could have sworn she was smiling back, even if the distance between them made it impossible to be certain.

"Today Merlin!" Arthur shouted again, more impatiently this time. Merlin sighed and followed after the prince back to the castle.

A/N: This is something i wrote this morning. It just popped up into my head and wouldn't go away so i had to write it down. Hope you liked it!