"It's Giving Me the Chance to See You Again"
One shot. Missing scene from 3.13 - Merlin reached out, clasping the hilt of Excalibur in both hands, capturing Freya's fingers with it. "It's really you," Merlin breathed.
A scene I would have loved to see in 3.13 – What I'd like to think happened when Merlin took Excalibur from Freya, but it's probably a good job it didn't because I honestly would have cried.
Merlin reached out, clasping the hilt of Excalibur in both hands, capturing Freya's fingers with it.
"It's really you," Merlin breathed, a faint smile tugging the corners of his stiff mouth as sucked in a ragged breath that caught in the back of his throat. Her slender fingers were cold and wet, but still as soft and gentle as he remembered them. Tears prickled in the corner of his eyes, welling over into his lashes, threatening to spill down his face.
Her words to him had all been true, even in death she had managed to find a way to repay him - Though for what he could never fathom. If there was a debt between them then it was he who owed her more than he could ever make right; it was his fault she had died, he had promised to protect her, and he had failed.
Every emotion he had ever felt in connection with Freya came flooding back to him, just as sharp and raw as it had been when they had first met. Originally it had been pity and compassion, seeing her shackled in that cage; soon after it had been curiosity and solidarity in discovering how alike they were; both young, scared, and in their own ways, hunted. Perhaps it was inevitable they would be drawn to one another, but the brief and bittersweet love they had shared had been real; painfully real – He had been willing to give up everything for her in a heartbeat.
Freya's fingers loosened their grip on the sword, leaving it secure in Merlin's strong grasp and pulled away. Feeling her slipping, Merlin clasped her hand tighter, trying to stop her sinking back into the watery depths, willing her to hold on; but what ever laws governed their exchange clearly stated she didn't have long.
"Stay with me," Merlin pleaded his voice breaking, as a stab of fresh anguish seized his heart - He was loosing her for a second time.
No words answered him, but her fingers squeezed his tightly for a second, then relaxed again. With that gesture alone, he knew; she wished she could, but the some unknown law refused to let her. Death might be an illusion, a veil of fog separating people, that could sometimes thin, or be swept away by a fierce enough storm - But it was still a boundary, stark and solid, that Freya could never fully cross. He had to let her go.
"Someday, I will repay you," Merlin breathed, bending down to lay a tender kiss on her fingertips, as he reluctantly released her. He stayed there, hunched over the side of the boat, tears dripping freely from his chin, fighting the urge to try and snatch her back, and silently watched as her hand slipped beneath the impossibly dark blue water, out of his reach.
All trace of her instantly disappeared, without even stirring a ripple, as if she had melded into the water itself, leaving the lake as smooth and bright as a sheet of glass.