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"Merlin!" a female voice called, from somewhere behind him. "Merlin! There you are. I've been looking all over for you."
Merlin frowned, because that accented voice seemed achingly familiar. He turned around, and yelped in surprise. He had somewhat been expecting to see Gwen and Morgana eventually-he would have to get used to calling them Jen and Miranda-but he never thought he'd see Freya again. At least, not outside of the Lake of Avalon.
"Freya!" he exclaimed, forgetting in his shock that she might not go by the same name now.
She gave him a huge smile, telling him that he hadn't called her by the wrong name. "Hello."
He was speechless. He was beyond happy to see her again. Before he could stop himself, or even think about what he was doing, he pulled her into a tight hug. Then he pulled back slightly and kissed her.
On the lips.
His roommates hooted, reminding him that they were there. He had completely forgotten about them. He broke away from Freya, his cheeks on fire. He looked at the others, cringing slightly. He wasn't surprised to see that they were all smirking. Except Jen and Lance. They actually had genuine smiles on their faces.
"Merlin," Arthur said. He was looking at Merlin's hand, which Freya had gripped in her own. He raised an eyebrow. "Who's your lady friend?" Merlin knew that he was going to spend the next several weeks being teased mercilessly by his roommates.
"Uh…" Merlin wasn't really sure how to introduce her. She obviously knew who he was-who he really was. He'd seen it in her dark eyes. And she'd answered to the name Freya, but he didn't know anything else about this modern version of her. Had she been reincarnated as well? Or had she risen from the lake, like he'd always thought Arthur would?
Freya laughed softly. "He's so cute when he's flustered. I'm Freya Lynn," she introduced, still chuckling. Merlin's eyebrows rose at that. Lynn was derived from the Welsh word llyn, which meant lake. Fitting. "I'm Merlin's girlfriend."
Merlin felt his face get even redder. He stared at Freya. She was his first love, true, but they hadn't really known each long enough to build any sort of relationship. At least, not a definable relationship.
Gavin whistled. "You didn't tell us you had a cute girl."
"I…" He didn't know what to say.
Luckily, Freya took over for him. "Merlin doesn't like to tell people things about himself. It takes a lot to get information out of him." She smiled, leaning her head against his arm.
Miranda grinned. "Oh, they're adorable together."
Merlin cleared his throat. He really needed to talk to Freya…away from prying ears. "I'll meet you guys back at the Lakehouse later tonight." He started to gently pull Freya away from his roommates, ignoring their catcalls and teasing. He would never hear the end of this.
Merlin led her to a café just down the street from the campus. They each ordered a hot chocolate and then sat down at a table for two once they had their drinks, and Merlin just stared at her. Finally, he said, "What are you…How are you here?"
She smiled softly, taking his hands in her own. "I was granted permission to help you. I've been allowed to come back, to help you and Arthur protect Albion once more."
"So you haven't been reborn like the others?"
"No. I came directly from the lake. Well, not directly. I had a few days to get used to this modern world."
Merlin frowned. "Do you know what we need to protect Albion from? Why was Arthur brought back now, here?"
She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I don't know much about that. I can sense that something evil is gathering, but it may be years before the threat is revealed. Whatever it is, it must originate here, in America."
"So it's not an immediate threat, then?"
"No. Not as far as I can tell."
Merlin relaxed slightly. At least he had a bit of time to figure out why Arthur was needed. He shook his head. "I can't believe you're here. Is anybody else from Camelot going to show up suddenly? Because after seeing Gwen and Morgana just now, and then you, I'm not sure I can take any more people from my past showing up."
"No. No one else is coming back. But everyone who has been brought will have a role to play, of some sort."
He sighed in relief. "Well, at least I won't have to deal with Uther on top of everything else. What roles do Morgana and Mordred have this time around? I didn't sense any magic from either of them, and they didn't seem to hate me or Arthur."
"I don't know what role they'll have, but they've both been given a second chance. I do know that much. They were both good people, before circumstances allowed them to make terrible choices."
Merlin nodded. "Morgana had a good heart, before Morgause influenced her. So Miranda now is the Morgana I first met, the Morgana I considered a friend?"
"Yes."
"And Micah is Mordred when he joined the knights, when he was still loyal to Arthur?"
"Yes."
That eased more of his tension. Things would be different with them this time around, he would make sure of it. Merlin wasn't going to make the same mistakes. "None of them remember anything, do they? The way that they talk, and the way that they react to some of the things that I say, makes me think that they don't."
"Not yet. They will, in time. But Merlin, they must remember on their own. You cannot force it. When they are ready, they will remember."
He nodded, sighing. He'd guessed as much, which is why he hadn't said anything about his past-their past-to any of them. He studied her. She was just as beautiful as she'd been when he first met her, though this time there was no dirt to hide that beauty. She was wearing a navy and white striped shirt, and a pair of skinny jeans with tall brown boots.
"You look amazing, Freya."
"Thank you. I love modern fashion." She looked him up and down. "You hardly look any different, though. Do you ever wear any other colors?"
He glanced down at himself. He had on a long-sleeved blue shirt, with a thin red scarf wrapped once around his neck. He grinned sheepishly. "They are my favorite colors. But of course they're not the only colors I wear."
"They certainly suit you."
"I still can't believe you're here. I missed you so much, Freya."
She smiled warmly at him. "I'm certainly glad to be back. I want to help you. You've been so alone, Merlin, for so long. And now, we have a chance to have a proper courtship."
"So you were serious about being my…girlfriend?" The modern term seemed strange to say while he was talking to someone from his ancient past. They didn't use the terms girlfriend or boyfriend in his earlier days. It was always beloved or promised one or something like that. Thinking of Freya as his girlfriend was odd, but in a good way.
"Of course. Did you think I was kidding?"
He shook his head. "I wasn't sure what I was thinking, to be honest. You're very familiar with modern phrases."
Her only answer was a smirk.
"So, Merlin," she said, running her finger along the top of her untouched mug. "What have you been doing all these years?"
He arched an eyebrow at her, amused at the question. "You mean the mystical Lady of the Lake doesn't know?"
She rolled her eyes slightly. "I don't know everything, obviously. And time moves differently in Avalon. I was actually kept pretty busy while there."
"You don't want to know about my boring life."
"I'm sure it wasn't boring."
Merlin nodded. "It was," he insisted. Sure, he'd traveled the world, but without his friends and family, it just felt like running away. He never enjoyed the sights as much as he would have if he hadn't been traveling alone.
Freya gave him a pleading look. "Please, Merlin? I want to know."
So he told her. At least, he told her some of it. There was too much for him to tell her everything.
He told her about meeting Leonardo da Vinci in fifteen-sixteen, while he was living in the castle of Cloux. He and Leonardo would talk for hours about the marvels of science. They didn't always agree, but they always enjoyed their lengthy discussions.
He told her about his chance to meet Ludwig von Beethoven. Merlin had somehow ended up working as a servant again, working in Vienna in Court Lichnovsky's palace. Beethoven had been given an apartment in the palace, and Merlin often saw to his needs. Merlin had not really had a chance to get to know him well, but he'd always thought they would have gotten along quite well. The man had been untidy and clumsy and simply incapable of adhering to the rules of social behavior.
Freya laughed at that. "Sounds like someone I know. No wonder you liked him!"
He rolled his eyes.
Then he told her about the two World Wars, and how he'd fought in both of them. He hadn't joined either one right away because…Well, he'd been convinced that Arthur would rise for them. So he'd waited by the lake until it became clear Arthur wasn't returning just yet. He hadn't worried about dying-by then, he'd realized that his immortality was absolute.
Freya looked at the table, drawing invisible designs with her fingers. "How did you discover that your immortality was absolute? No, wait. First tell me when you discovered that you were immortal."
Merlin sighed, glad she'd changed her question. That first one was…difficult for him to relive. And he was sure she wouldn't want all the morbid details. "I started to suspect it about ten years after Arthur's death." He explained that one of the younger knights had been teasing Leon about his wrinkles and his graying hair. And Merlin…He'd looked in a mirror closely and realized that he didn't have any wrinkles or gray hairs. He hadn't expected many, at only thirty-four years old. He expected at least some new wrinkles. But his face looked exactly as it had since he turned twenty-four. His suspicions had deepened when he'd discovered the meaning of the name the druids had given him, only a few months later. Emrys. Immortal. He doubted it was a coincidence.
"But it was confirmed when my mother died, twelve years after I first suspected, so twenty-two years after Arthur's death. I rode home to Ealdor for her funeral. I hadn't been there in...well, since Arthur's death. My mother usually came to Camelot to visit me. The villagers thought I was my own son. I didn't look forty-six. I looked twenty-four. I let them think that. How could I explain the truth to them? That was when I knew that I had simply stopped aging when Arthur died. But it was more than that. Apparently, I can't be killed. By anything. But you really don't want to know how I discovered that. It's gruesome."
It had been a dark time for him. He had been nearing his seven-hundredth birthday, when he'd decided that he was done waiting for a prat who would never return. He was done living such a lonely, miserable life waiting for something that was never going to happen. So he'd tried to kill himself.
He tried hanging himself.
It hurt like hell, and his throat was bruised for several days, but it didn't kill him. It didn't even break his neck. Not even when he tried it a second, third, or fourth time. The bones magically didn't break.
He jumped off a bridge.
He broke nearly every bone in his body that time, but his magic healed them all in a matter of hours. It didn't kill him. It did knock him out for about thirty minutes. But the fatal fall didn't kill him like it should have.
He drank a bottle of poison.
He woke up with a nasty headache. No other side effects, just a headache. He'd had worse hangovers.
He tried everything, at one point or another. His magic always found a way to protect him, or to immediately heal him. His injuries left scars, but no permanent damage.
Merlin could not die.
This realization was both a good and a bad thing. It made life seem incredibly vast and overwhelming to know that there was no escape from it. The endlessness of life drove him to insanity some days. And yet, he was able to help so many more people when he didn't have to worry about his own safety.
Freya was watching him closely. "All right. I won't ask about that, not if it makes you that uncomfortable. We should probably leave, anyway. I think they're about to close up for the night."
Merlin looked up in surprise. Sure enough, it was starting to get dark outside. He and Freya had been talking for several hours. They'd each ordered two more mugs of hot chocolate in the time they'd been talking. "Oh, wow."
He took her hand as they left the café. They wandered aimlessly for a while, still not quite ready to part, this time talking about their childhoods. Well, mostly Freya's childhood. She had an easier time remembering hers. Merlin had forgotten of his own childhood.
Before Merlin knew it, it was nearly midnight. "It's late," he said. "Let me walk you home."
Freya grinned. "Oh, don't worry. I can protect myself."
The way she said that made Merlin think of the beast she'd been forced to transform into every night. He frowned at her. "I thought the curse was lifted when you…died?"
"Not the curse, silly. I still have my other talents." She closed her eyes and lifted a closed fist to her mouth. He couldn't hear what she whispered, but he could sense the magic she used. She opened her palm, and a red rose sat in the center of it.
She gave him the rose and then kissed his lips softly. Then she walked away.
Merlin smiled, watching her. He turned around and began slowly walking toward the Lakehouse.
So Emrys is the Welsh form of Ambrosius (which is either Latin or Greek, I can't remember now which one), which means immortal. Go figure.
And I know that Jenessa and Miranda aren't the best names. I was having such a hard time finding modern versions of Guinevere and Morgana that weren't totally obvious. Since they were such big players in the original Arthurian legends, I didn't want their names to be too similar.
Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it!
