I admit it, I cried. I sniffled quite a bit in this chapter, and I cried a lot in the last. And I thought I deserved everyone of those threats I received.

"Then the War came. And that's when it all ended...

...This is the story of how I died." Rose Tyler from the Army of Ghosts - Doctor Who

Dedication; to those who wondered why I had posted a half completed chapter and why the Doctor mentioned

In Memory of the Fallen

Chapter 25 – I walk through the Valley of Death

Gwaine's POV

It was dark, and so very, very cold. Gwaine couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't touch, and couldn't feel. He was trapped lying down, in the empty nothingness, and as he kicked and punched at the walls which weren't really there but were pressing down on him.

He had been fighting the walls for an age, and Gwaine knew that he was slowly weakening. But still he fought, because the Drunk was afraid... He was afraid that if he stopped fighting, then he would be consumed by the nothingness. And he did not want to die.

But then something did penetrate the wall of nothingness.

"Come on Gwaine. Drink up. Be good for once and drink it, you understand me? This will make you better, I promise."

It was Merlin.

And he was crying.

And no-one ever made Merlin cry. Not when Gwaine was there.

"Please Gwaine, come on. Drink. Please Gwaine."

Gwaine did try; he really did. Something was flowing yet not flowing into his mouth. It was sticky, and it was sweet and it was smooth and it was sharp.

And a liquid was falling onto Gwaine's face in little drops, and it ran down it, and into his mouth.

He tasted water, he tasted salt.

He tasted Merlin's tears.

"Please."

And that was what did it for Gwaine. Merlin was pleading, pleading his name, and he was crying, crying for him.

The realisation that Merlin was crying for him made Gwaine stop kicking and screaming and punching at his prison cell walls and made him lie there, completely quiet.

And suddenly, a beautiful light flooded where he was and Gwaine was encased by tiny wisps of gold. Magnificent, swirling tendrils of old that clung to him, drawn like a moth to a flame. And more was coming.

Gwaine looked up to see where the wondrous light came from, and he saw Merlin.

And he saw where the glowing, golden light came from.

It came from Merlin's eyes.

Because Merlin had magic.

"You?" Gwaine whispered, managing to control his breathing enough to force it out.

The magic that Merlin had in his eyes was all around Gwaine now. And it was in him; up his nose, into his mouth, through his ears.

But his amazement made him loose concentration, and once more, the prison cell snapped shut around him, encasing him with the darkness, and the remains of the magic.

And once again, Gwaine began hitting and punching and kicking the darkness as the last of the golden light faded.

"Do you hear me Gwaine?"

Another voice; Arthur's.

"I am your King, you understand?"

And Gwaine's King, Gwaine's Liege, Gwaine's ruler of the mighty city of Camelot was sad.

"So do you know what that means, huh?"

And angry, and depressed, and worried... And guilty.

"That means that you have to do what I say."

Was it because of him?

"And I order you to live."

Gwaine felt a drop of liquid fall onto his chest.

"Do you hear me Gwaine?"

Another drop, then another and slowly became a torrent of water. A torrent of salty water.

"Do you know what that means?"

A torrent of tears.

"It means that you must obey me."

Arthur's tears.

"And I order, yes that's right. I order you to live."

Gwaine's skin was warm in what felt like the first time in days. And as he raised his arm to punch the wall, he stopped. He looked at his arm, which was pale and grimy and covered with a shin of sweat. And golden. Golden because of the sudden warmth that he had been craving and light which could never compare.

The sun had come up.

Gwaine went completely still at this as his prison became lit up. It was not like the magic that Merlin had been using and yet... and yet it was. He looked up, and he could see the tearful face of Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot staring down at him. Gwaine stared back.

And in that one moment, Gwaine knew.

He knew he was dying.

Death was only a few moment away.

But although Gwaine had always wanted to go out in a blaze of light, a heroic death, he didn't mind this one... the one that was in front of him.

His senses became alive again, and Gwaine could see, hear, taste, touch and smell.

Beyond the towering figure of Arthur he could see Guinevere, Leon, Percival, a tiny boy that looked like the Servant whom he had saved.

He could hear movements that he recognised to be Gaius, Merlin, Elyan... And a figure. The person. The Woman who Haunted his Dreams, and the Girl who Haunted his Nightmares.

They had all congregated here for him.

So, in a last moment of bravery, Gwaine poured all of his strength into one, final task.

He smiled, one not of pure joy, but of love, and loyalty... And loss.

He had a feeling that he would miss his friends.

"I never was one for orders, was I?"

Gwaine breathed in slightly.

He didn't breathe out.

"You didn't know him?" The Manservant asked with curiosity.

"Just some stories I've been told." Gwaine said. He didn't know why he was opening up to a man he had only just met, but it felt right, somehow.

"Yeah, I know how that feels. I met my father just briefly before he died." Merlin said, surprising Gwaine.

"Why?" Gwaine questioned with the same curiosity that the man whom he was speaking to held a few seconds earlier.

"He was banished." Merlin replied simply.

"What had he done?" The Drunk questioned. He didn't think that someone who had a son as honest and as well... good as this man sitting in front of him would be a thief, or a murderer or a traitor.

"Nothing. He served the King." Merlin said, with bitterness laced in his tone that Gwaine was surprised at, but also accepted. Kings could be cruel, cruel men.

"He didn't have any didn't have...well...anyone." Merlin admitted.

"When did he die?" Gwaine said cautiously. He knew that it was bad to pry, but he also knew that you had to let it out, otherwise if you keep on bottling it up, you will eventually be overcome.

"About a year ago. I just wish that I had the chance to know him better. So much he could've taught me." Merlin replied, all the while looking down so Gwaine couldn't see his face as he concentrated intensely on the task in front of them.

"But you did get to meet him." Gwaine said, trying to encourage his poor scrubbing partner.

"Yeah." Merlin said sadly, almost as if it was an afterthought.

Gwaine stood at the bend in the path, watching and listening. Merlin had just gone ahead to the bridge in front of them that was the entrance to the Perilous Lands... and he had gone without Gwaine.

Slowly, the Knight crept closer, before standing there with a slight frown on his face, sure that he misheard what he thought the Guardian (whoever it was) said.

"...Magic has arrived." The Guardian of the Perilous Lands said, standing in the middle of the little bridge that Gwaine could just see through the trees that he and Merlin had to cross to get to Arthur.

"What?" Merlin said, obviously flummoxed.

"There is nothing to be afraid of. Your presence is essential if Arthur is to succeed on his quest."

"How do you know about Arthur? Who are you?" Merlin demanded, unnaturally short.

"The Keeper of the Bridge. I only wish to see the Fisher King's lands restored and prosperity reign again. Until your mission is complete, this cannot happen."

"It's not my mission, it's Arthur's." Merlin protested.

"That's what you choose to believe. It's no accident that Arthur chose this path or you chose to follow him." The Guardian said mysteriously.

Gwaine started to move forward on this; no one would hurt Merlin and get away with it.

"Ah, Finally! Strength has arrived, the trio is complete."

Gwaine ran around the corner, drawing his sword out upon seeing a dwarf standing at the entrance of a rickety wooden bridge. The Guardian wasn't in sight.

"Who's he?" Gwaine demanded suspisciously and at that moment, his sword turned into a large flower.

"I mean no harm to either of you. And I'd thank you to mean no harm in return."

Gwaine noticed that he didn't answer his question, but he let it lie. There were more pressing things to deal with. "Where's my sword?"

"It will return to you once you reach the other side." The Dwarf said annoyingly, so sighing, Gwaine walked onto the bridge, letting the mist swirl and cover him. He stayed there, motionless for a moment as he listened in to the end of Merlin's and the Guardian's (for that must be who the Dwarf was) conversation.

"The Fisher King has waited many years for this day. Do not deny him what he wishes."

Gwaine felt the bridge reverberate as someone stepped onto it; Merlin. Slowly, he began to walk away, but was still close enough to hear the Dwarf's passing words and warning.

"Remember, nothing is as it seems."

Gwaine gasped, and opened his eyes wide, completely disorientated.

Hadn't he had just died?

But he could see, he could feel, he could smell, he could taste, he could hear.

He was lying down, face down, on the floor. If you could call it a floor, that is. It was white; but it didn't gleam, or reflect light, or was bright, or was dull. It was simply... well, white. And it was unlike anything that Gwaine had ever seen before.

Confused, Gwaine stood up, and took in his surroundings... If you could call what he saw that.

For all he could see, for as far as the eye could see, was white. There was no colour, just sheer and utter, blinding white. It didn't gleam, it didn't glow, it didn't shadow, it didn't shade or dim or brighten or anything. It was simply there.

It befuddled his mind, because it was all so white. He couldn't tell which way was up or down or left or right or what was horizontal or what was vertical. He couldn't even tell if he was standing on the floor or on the sky!

And Gwaine's eyes began to hurt.

He had heard of people becoming 'Blinded by Snow' in his old habit of touring the Taverns. It made people go blind because the light reflected off the snow, intensifying it in deadly quantities. He supposed that was what was happening here, but looking up (or was it down?) Gwaine couldn't see any light source.

It wasn't anything like he had ever experienced or heard of before.

But Gwaine supposed that seeing as he had never been dead before, he couldn't compare it.

But suddenly, his neck hurting and his head spinning from looking frantically in the direction of whatever he thought the light was coming from, the Drunk's version started to swim.

And once again he found himself on the floor.

But when he lifted himself so he was standing again, the Drunk noticed something different; something that wasn't there before. In the distance, he could see what looked like-

"Green? Something Green?" The Fallen Knight wondered, staring at the thing hard. Whatever it was, it wasn't supposed to be in this environment; Gwaine was sure of that. Otherwise it would have been white, like everything else.

But if this was heaven, or hell, or wherever he was, he might at least check it out.

After however long the Drunk had spent in this hell hole (for he was getting increasingly sure that that was what the place was), Gwaine finally reached the green thing... And it turned out to be;

"A shrub?" Gwaine said to himself in disbelief.

And indeed, it was exactly like he had said; there was a shrub. A glorious, green and recently flowering shrub in the wasteland that was white!

But looking past that, the Jester could see another green object and running to it, he saw that it was another plant. Again, looking past, Gwaine saw, another, then another.

He started to walk towards them, getting faster and faster as the plants began to grow in more frequency and in different forms. Trees, shrubs, hedges... But the two things that nearly made him burst into tears at the sight of them were grass that started to grow and the odd dotted flower.

And Gwaine continued to walk alone.

Because the change in the environment was so gradual, Gwaine didn't realise that nothing (apart from now what he was definitely sure was the sky and the light) was white anymore until the thick wood was fully formed around him.

It looked familiar, yet alien to the Drunk. It was wild, tangled and the trees grew so big that they blotted out all light, yet Gwaine could still see, and he still walked into the dense forest undergrowth. Though the trail that Gwaine could barely see yet somehow sense was there was unrecognisable to him, he thought that his surroundings looked like that from the Forest of Balor, but he wasn't sure. Mostly because that particular forest was huge.

Eventually, the Drunk noticed that the undergrowth was thinning out, and he could see more clearly as the trees started to recede. Then he heard the tinkling of a little stream running into something... something big. Stepping out under the last tree, out of its long shadow and into the light, Gwaine saw where the little brook that he could hear ran into; a wonderful big, lake.

The Drunk simply stood there for a moment, intoxicated in its beauty. The water was crystal clear, with that hint of blue which made its depths look mysterious. It half reflected the scenery around it, so it was doubly framed by trees. The gurgling and lapping of the little waves running onto the shore was a smooth, lulling sound.

In the distance towards the middle of the lake, fresh, clean mist started to appear and group together. An Island stood there, mighty and haughty and proud as it gazed out across the water and beyond. The tendrils of mist wove their way in front of it, making the Island look mysterious, slightly dark and forbidding.

Gwaine was so taken with the scenery that he didn't realise that someone else was there, watching him.

"Sir Gwaine."

The man in question started in surprise and stared when he saw where the voice was coming from. In his amazement, his feet automatically carried him to the water's edge, so he could be closer to the phenomenon...Because there was a young woman, standing on the water.

And it was one he recognised.

"Freya?" Gwaine asked tentatively, stepping closer to get a better look, so that his feet were almost at the lapping little waves that broke when they reached the shore.

"Hello," she replied softly, staring out across the waves.

"How-how are you doing that?" Gwaine asked, but once he started inquiring, he couldn't seem to stop. "How are you here? Where am I? Aren't I dead- I certainly thought I was! Why am I here?"

"We are in the nonbeing, which is to say, everything," Freya muttered under her breath, causing Gwaine to ask confusedly "What did you just say?"

But she ignored his questioned and continued to gaze out into the Lake as the words tumbled from his mouth, but when he stopped, she seemed to shake herself. "You have a lot of questions."

"I know."

"And I will try to answer them."

Gwaine waited patiently for her to start as she frowned thoughtfully, her delicate eyebrows almost forming one straight, single line.

"What do you see, Gwaine?"

The Drunk reflexively frowned; what had this to do with his questions? But he decided to humour the beautiful woman that was in front of him, standing on the water as though it was a normal thing to do.

"I see," He started off slowly, thinking everything through before he said them. "I see water; it is a lake. I can see trees, and bushes, and grass, and plants, and flowers, and land."

She nodded at all of them. "Yes, you can see them, but does that mean they are there?"

"Of course they're there!" Gwaine protested, confused.

"No, Gwaine, they are not." She corrected.

"But I can see them," Gwaine said, not denying what she said, but still adamantly refusing that he was delusional

"Look closer," She said. "Truly see what it on front of you. Do not see with your eyes, for they are too weak. See with your soul."

And Gwaine did.

What he saw made him gasp and momentarily close his eyes in pain. "Everything's white; there's nothing here. There are no plants, no trees, no grass, yet they are here and I can touch, and feel and smell and see them."

"Don't you recognise it?" Freya asked in surprise.

The Drunk stared in confusion at her and seeing his look and expression, Freya elaborated.

"Think, Gwaine, think. What have you seen that has a connection with what you see and me?"

The only place where Gwaine had ever seen Freya was in the Painting, but what had that got to do with the whiteness? So he said what he thought, and Freya smiled.

"You're right; the connection is the Portrait."

"But how does that explain where and how I'm h-" Gwaine cut himself off in mid word. "Oh. I'm there, aren't I? I'm actually in the Painting; I'm in the space at the bottom which Merlin left blank, between William, Isolde and Tristan." Gwaine began to think now, his brain connecting the dots and blurting it out as he did so.

"So that explains why you are here (after all, you are an inhabitant of the Painting) but where are the others? William, the man, Tristan and Isolde? Because even I can't believe that Lancelot would miss coming to the 'Welcome, my new dead neighbour' Party!"

"The others cannot access this place. This is... in a dimension of its own. It is in yet out of the Portrait at the same time."

"Then how are you here?" The Drunk quizzed, understandably puzzled.

"Because I am not like the others." Freya sighed, a long and tired sound that echoed in the place-that-was-not-a-place.

"I'm Immortal. I am Freya, the Lady of the Lake, the Guardian Between Worlds, and the Keeper of Avalon."

After that bombshell was dropped, the Fallen Knight couldn't help but stare at her, as if seeing her for the first time. "Merlin's got an Immortal girlfriend?!" He exclaimed.

Closing her eyes as if in pain, Freya said quietly; "I wasn't always like this, you know."

She stopped there, still looking away to the mist, away to the horizon, as if she could see the future. And for all that the Fallen Knight knew, she might be. She created a lonesome figure that blotted at the everlasting white light, with her crimson red dress fluttering in a breeze that wasn't there and wisps of her hair flowing behind her.

"Earth. I was born on the Earth... And that was where I died."

Gwaine decided to sit down then, as he sensed that she was going into a storytelling mode.

"I was happy when I was young; I had loving parents, a loving older brother who looked after me. I led a peaceful, quiet life with the Druids."

"It sounds nice." The Fallen Knight said when she paused. It was a stupid comment, but it was the only thing he could come up with.

"It was. Everybody was nice, peace loving, caring. Except for one family, or... One man."

The Drunk began to feel a chill start inside him, as he sensed what her story was... and it was too similar like one in which he had already experienced.

"I was young at the time and I suppose you could say I was pretty. He... Was interested in me. He used to 'help' with my chores and often he would start to... Fondle me. Thankfully though, I never had to do anything because my brother would always be there with me, and he would put a stop to it. He was an imposing figure, my brother."

She smiled at this and Gwaine was happy to see that at least one person cared; one person had been on her side. But as she continued, their smiles began to fade.

"One day, my Aunt was taken ill, and mother, father and my brother went to help her. She owned a small farming patch you see, and we needed the food for it helped to provide for my village."

The Fallen Knight began to tense up, knowing what was about to happen. The memories that he had kept firmly out of reach began to hound in, coming closer and closer and they threatened to overwhelm him. But he fought against them, determined to hear Freya's story.

"I spent most of the time at the lake near the village then, because I was adapt with water magic and I practised. I always chose a lonely spot, because there were fewer distractions... And that was mistake.

Usually my brother would come down and watch me practise, proud of what I could do. He didn't have any magic you see, but I don't think he minded, but he would always come down though and no one else" and by this, Gwaine knew she was meaning her stalker, "would never bother us, unless they were family of friends, of course.

I was down by the lake when it happened. I had been hiding from his attention in all of the time that my family had gone. I hid when he was near, or I went to places where there were people. But I was craving for my own company, for a chance to think, so I slipped off where I would be alone. He followed me there."

The Fallen Knight began to feel sick as his mind envisioned what was about to occur. But he noticed that the Lady of the Lake was smiling wistfully, her hair pouring down her back and waving slit lay in the nonexistent wind.

"I didn't realise he was there at first. I was manipulating the water into flowing figures of my family. I made my brother with the beard that he had which i never liked and used to magic it off, my mother with short hair, and my father with tattoos. I started to laugh..."

She swallowed, trying to keep her composer as she relived the terrible experience. Gwaine opened his mouth to say that she didn't have to tell him, but she ploughed on, not heeding her own pain she was obviously feeling.

"He came up close, so close. I could feel him right behind him, his breath smelling disgusting and the words making the skin around my ear crawl. He said that 'my laugh was beautiful, and that I should do it again."

Gwaine's stomach was reacting against his will now, trying to rise up against him and bile was present in his throat, but he forced it down and he listened to what Freya was saying.

"So I laughed nervously and ceased manipulating the water, hoping that that would pacify him. I began to edge away, but he grabbed me, and hauled me closer. He said that I obviously wasn't enjoying my magic, and he could cheer me up.

He kept me close as he began to unbuckle his breeches. I knew that he was intending to... To have His Way with Me. I panicked; there was no one around to see him, no one to save me. There were no gallant young men with long locks dashing in to save the maiden in distress."

She gazed at Gwaine, who gaped back, stunned at what she just said.

"Ho- how did you know about that?"

"When you're the Guardian to the Gateway of the Dead, you learn a few things," Freya said with a sad smile. "It was a Brave and Noble thing you did Gwaine. Thank you. She was lucky to have you there, lucky to stop him before he got to close..."

The Fallen Knight was still stunned by what she had just revealed, but he still managed to reply, albeit gruffly; "any decent person would have done it."

Thankfully, Freya didn't press him on that point. There was an understanding in her eyes, as if she knew what Gwaine was feeling and what he was thinking back to.

"I'm sorry." He elaborated when he saw Freya's slightly confused expression. "I'm sorry about what you have gone through. I'm sorry there was no one to save you."

"You forget someone; you forget me. I saved myself, with the magic I possessed. You see, sometimes magic can be instinctual; sometimes it reacts with a presence, and sometimes, with your emotions. So when you are angry, or-"

"When you are scared, it deals with the threat." Gwaine realised, completing her sentence for her.

"Yes," Freya agreed softly. "And that's what I did. My magic reacted to his presence, and it threw him away from me. He flew high in the air, so high. When he came back down again, he moved no more. I had killed him."

Her voice began to break a little at this point and Gwaine wanted so desperately to reach out and comfort her. But he didn't.

Perhaps it was because he wasn't sure if they were fully corporal and therefore would be able to touch. Perhaps it was because this place uncannily resembled the one where she had described, and if he reached out to her from behind like that man had done all those years ago, the events might be repeated.

"His mother was angry, so angry when she found out. She didn't believe that her son was capable of such a thing. So she cursed me."

"She cursed you?" The Fallen Knight spluttered, hardly able to believe his ears. "After what had happened and she cursed you? But you were the victim, you hadn't done anything, he was the one in the wrong!"

"But curse me she did. She reasoned it was justified because if I enjoyed killing so much, then she would aid with that ambition. So at midnight, I would change form. I would transform into a creature, a terrible creature. I would transform into a Bastet, which would kill; I would kill what I hunted... And I only hunted people."

Her voice broke, and her body racked itself in silent sobs that consumed her, but still she spoke.

"I could remember, still can remember everybody I hunted, everybody I killed. I killed so many, too many. Because that was also part of the curse that she gave me, she gave the memory of the thrill of the chase, the happiness of the hunt."

"That was a cruel thing to do," Gwaine commented softly. "You didn't deserve that, you didn't deserve anything of what had happened to you."

"Didn't I?" Freya demanded, tears pouring down her beautiful face but still keeping her eyes fixated forwards, staring outwards towards the island in the middle of the lake. "I killed a man, so do I not deserve what I receive(d)?"

"No," The Fallen Knight vehemently argued. "It was in self defence, and a violation of you."

She was quiet for a moment, apparently contemplating that line of reasoning. Eventually, she opened her mouth after have'n gotten herself under control.

"There were other people in the village who didn't believe in my story, because they also thought that the son was perfect. So when I turned and began to kill people mindlessly, it was too much for them. In a unanimous delicious, I was out casted.

"WHAT?" Gwaine exploded, unable to think that the Druids would have left her to fend for herself over a condition that wasn't her fault and couldn't be controlled. "What about your family? What about your brother?"

"He couldn't," Freya said her voice soft and cushioned with barely comprehensible pain. "You see the night before, something had attacked my parents, and my brother was forced to step in to defend them and ended up injuring the attacker... He stepped in to defend them from me. Everybody was yelling obscurities about me, and people said that his voice was the loudest of the three.

Because they were screaming as they died. Dying by my hand."

Her speech ability failed her for a moment, as she became overcome with emotion.

"Then a bounty hunter called Halig captured me and took me to Camelot."

Gwaine winced at what she said. So far, Freya's story had been awful. How could a woman who was so kind, so compassionate, so loving, deserve a life like she had led? But at least, he thought philosophically, that when Merlin entered her life, it was for the better.

He ignored the little voice in the back of his head that she had died in her lover's arms.

"When I first entered Camelot, it was raining. Halig stopped outside a Tavern to eat some food that would warm him up, and left me outside in the freezing cold. Merlin and an Old Man saw me, and immediately, the foolish man started to beseech his companion to release me. Thankfully though, the Old man managed to convince not to - it was too dangerous."

"Gaius?" Gwaine said in surprise, his brow crinkling as he thought about what she had just commented on. "Gaius had seen you? But why didn't he mention it when I asked about you..." He pondered, but shook his head to concentrate on what Freya was saying.

But before she had even managed to open her mouth to continue her life story, another thought struck Gwaine. And even though he was disrupting the romantic notion, the Fallen Knight took the plunge and hesitatingly asked the question anyway.

"Why couldn't you save yourself? I mean, you had magic, and you saved yourself before when the man attacked you, so why didn't you?"

Freya seemed to struggle for words as she tried to answer Gwaine's question.

"When the mother put the curse on me, I transformed every night, using magic. I was using my own magical reserves, and because it takes a lot of power to change your shape at least twice a day, I didn't have any reserves in store. Besides," she added colouring slightly, "I wanted it. I wanted Halig to take me and have audience with Uther who would then execute me. I wanted to die."

The Drunk gaped at what she had just revealed, but he let it pass... For now.

"But as you probably know, Merlin does not give in easily." She smiled, and then continued, her voice showing the first sign that she was happy since Gwaine had met her here. "Later on, he came back and with his magic-"

"Magic?" Gwaine once again repeated."He had magic even then? He really had been hiding it all of this time from me. I had hoped that he had only started practising it later..." He tailed off, betrayed colouring his tone.

"Do not be so selfish as to only think of yourself, Sir Gwaine," Freya warned, her voice surprisingly hard and filled with anger at the injustice and slandering of her Beau that the Fallen Knight was partaking in. "You have no idea, no idea, of what Merlin faces, of what he has done and given up for you and for Camelot. Do you know what his worst, most uncontrollable fear is, hmm?"

She paused in her rant as if to let Gwaine speak, but before he even had opened her mouth, she was off again.

"Merlin's fear that haunts his dreams are ones when his magic has been revealed... And how you will react. His is afraid at you will hurt him, banish him, kill him, or worse, reject him, brand him for the 'animal' that he is, name him a traitor and star a second Great Purge."

"I-I'm sorry," the Fallen Knight apologised. "Forgive my outburst, please."

"Apology accepted," the Lady of the Lake retorted, somewhat stiffly.

"Could you carry on with your story please?" Gwaine asked tentatively. He wasn't sure how he would react, for her body was still quivering with anger.

She heaved a heavy sigh and once again took up the mantle.

"Merlin returned later, and with his magic," she emphasised casting a warning look at him which the Drunk resolutely ignored for he deserved it, "released me from the imprisonment I was experiencing. Then, he grabbed my hand and whispered 'run'.

When you run with Merlin and with Magic, it feels like it'll never end, but however hard you try you can't run forever. Behind us, Halig had unluckily come out of the Inn and had seen us running away. He chased us, but Merlin lost him when we delved into the catacombs that run beneath Camelot.

He told me that his name was Merlin and claimed that I would be safe there. I didn't believe him of course, or believed why he had released me. I told him I was cursed, and I did and could do terrible things, but he didn't listen to begged me for my name, and unwillingly I gave it to him. I didn't know why, and I still don't; maybe it was his joyful smile that drew me in, or his kind words."

But Gwaine had another idea, another possibility that she hadn't said out loud. Because maybe, Freya had already started to fall in love with the clumsy Manservant.

"He left me in a whirlwind, after giving me some food and some blankets. He promised me that I would be safe there, and he would be back the next today to see how I was doing and to give me more food. I told him, I told him that I was dangerous, but he just wouldn't listen. He was so kind to me, but I was still frightened. Because at midnight, I Transformed, and I killed an inhabitant.

"He returned just like he promised me and slowly, he began to open me up, and infiltrate my heart. We exchanged tales of our childhoods, and where we grew up. He was the first one whom I had ever told my story; but not all of it. I never told him the details of why and how I was out casted.

I don't know when I realised that I was in love with Merlin... it could have been when he cheered me up after another night when I had killed someone, by levitating the candles he had provided for my comfort, or when he asked me what my favourite fruit was, and I told him it was strawberries, so he tried to conjure some up for me."

Freya began to laugh softly, her face relaxing into one that only showed a love so deep, that it made Gwaine feel quite jealous.

"But the spell went wrong, and he ended up conjuring a blood red rose. He presented it to me anyway, after apologising hat he had got it wrong but I didn't mind. A girl loves flowers, especially I realised, when it was from someone you grew to adore."

Despite the contrary, Gwaine wasn't happy and joyful like the Gatekeeper of Avalon. Instead, he was feeling quite the opposite; he was feeling sad. Because he knew how her story was going to end and how Merlin felt about her. And he also knew that as she relived her life, mesmerised with the good times, and wallowing in the bad, that when they hit the end, the loss of her possible life with Merlin would hurt her once again.

And he didn't want that to happen.

"But my time with Merlin was drawing to a close. Mixing in with the good, was the fact that the deaths had been noticed, and combined with Halig still looking for me and a creature with an appetite for human flesh on the loose. Looking back now, I should have realised that nothing good will last forever, and certainly not with me.

You see, Merlin had arranged for us to leave Camelot together, and never look back."

Once again, Gwaine was stunned at what Freya had just revealed.

Merlin was going to leave Camelot, with her. He was going to leave the city, Gaius, Arthur... The Manservant was going to leave it all for one woman.

Their love had been stronger and deeper then the Fallen Knight had realised.

"Things escalated quickly, and it all reached a terrifying finale."

Freya was quiet for a moment, obviously harrying to contain and prepare herself for what she was about to reveal. Gwaine did the same thing, or at least, tried to do. But he had a sneaking suspicion that when the time came, he would be blubbering. And he didn't care.

"I didn't want to hurt Merlin, which I knew would happen if we eloped together. I had tried for so long to keeping him away from me, to stop us both from getting hurt... I hadn't counted on e possible lit of us falling I love with each other.

So I took off, intending to leave Camelot, to leave Halig... And to leave Merlin.

But someone had pieced together the pieces of the puzzle, and had connected the dots. Why Merlin was always disappearing off, why a Druid girl had been abandoned, why the killings had only started when I was in the city. And they alerted the guards.

I was by the outside wall trying to escape the city when the two parties met, and a few seconds later, the third. The guards and soldiers and Knights intending to kill me, Merlin, whom had arrived late and was still trying to save me and myself. They subsequently held me up, and I had cut it too fine.

I began to change into my Bastet form.

And around me, the knights began to close in for the kill."

Freya's voice began to waver and Gwaine couldn't blame her. A tear had made itself presence known in the corner in each of his eyes, and they were threatening to drop. Still she continued and it forced the Drunk to admire her strength as she choked the end of her story out.

Her death.

"A handsome man with dashing blond hair began was leading the formation, and he began to attack me. I defended myself, even though I knew he was a Prince, and Merlin's master. And I didn't want to hurt Merlin. I knew that even when I was a Bastet and lost myself to the creature within.

Suddenly, the man who I dreamed off and the one whom I was trying to save appeared. And as I was distracted, Prince Arthur took his chance, and plunged his sword into my stomach."

Tears were beginning to pour down their respective faces and silently an. With every angry bone in his body, Gwaine cursed Arthur for what he had done.

"I had rarely ever seen Merlin angry and distressed, his emotions running wild. That was one subsequent moment. He lost control of him magic, and he caused a gargoyle to down, which would have killed the one whom he was destined to protect had Arthur not have dodged out of the way."

The Drunks eyes widened as he comprehended the thought that Merlin had almost killed Arthur, and all for the woman in front of him. All because of the love that he had held for her.

"I took the chance when Arthur was distracted, and I flew away, back to where i felt the safest. Back to the tunnels upon which I had fallen in love. Merlin came running in and he found me in my Bastet form... And he approached me. He came and sat by me, pulling my head into his lap and fondling my ears."

True love. The Drunk realised, Merlin had found true love, with Freya. But...

"My wound was a mortal one, and as I transformed back into my human form, I begged for Merlin's forgiveness. I wanted him to remember me in a good light and not for the murderess that I was.

And as I was dying, Merlin took me to the shore of a beautiful lake, with trees and a few mountains.

"He took you home," Gwaine said softly, tears dripping down his face and onto the grass-that-was-not-grass.

"He took me home," Freya agreed, her voice breaking as she finally let her feelings loose. "What he didn't realise though, was that this was the entrance to Avalon, and I subsequently became the Guardian. It was Merlin's love that gave me this half life, and I couldn't be happier for it, for it means that I still get to watch over Fy Cariad and protect him and his friends.

Everybody knows that everybody dies and nobody knows it like Merlin, who has suffered and lost so much."

Gwaine thought of all the people that he knew Merlin had been close to, and the ones whom had died to protect him, and the nameless who were just as brave, just as honourable as the rest.

Merlin's Father (for that was whom the Fallen Knight was beginning to suspect was the man in the portrait), Will, Tristan and Isolde, Lancelot, Freya... and, if it counted, himself (Gwaine hoped that Merlin cared for him in the same way that the Drunk felt towards the Manservant).

"But I do think that the skies of all the worlds might just turn dark if he ever, for one moment, accepts it."

And silently, Gwaine agreed with her. Before that Day had happened, before he had questioned the Official version of the Truth, before he had died, Gwaine had thought that Merlin could never get sad, never become depressed. But he was wrong. And it was worse than he thought. Because instead of letting the feelings of loss and grief overwhelm him, Merlin instead had chosen another path... the dangerous one. He had chosen to bottle it all up, not allowing anybody else to relieve his pain.

And Gwaine knew it was slowly killing the Manservant inside.

"Everybody knows that everybody dies, but not every day. Some days are special. Some days are so, so blessed. Some days, nobody dies at all. Now and then, every once in a very long while, every day in a million days, when the wind stands fair, and Merlin is present, somebody lives."

The Guardian of Avalon finally turned around to face the Fallen Knight.

"And now we have finally come to answer the last question you has asked me at the beginning; 'Why am I here?" The Guardian of Avalon sighed with exhaustion, and the Fallen Knight couldn't blame her. "It is Time, I think."

"Time for what?" Gwaine asked, puzzled.

"Time for me to tell you why you are here." Freya replied mysteriously. "It is Time to make your Decision, to make your Choice."

"What Decision? What Choice?"

But Freya didn't answer his plea for information, and instead walked around three paces away, where Gwaine noticed that there was some distortion in the air. "This One here."

Curious, Gwaine stood up and followed her, to where she stopped. Right in front of them, the distortions were present, but it was not one big one, like the Drunk had originally thought, but instead two reasonably large ones that were separated in a gap that the Lady of the Lake occupied.

"There was a reason why you are here, Gwaine, there was always a reason. For you always had to make this choice when you Died, but I simply... delayed you."

Freya cast out her arms, indicating the two patches of wavering air on either side of her.

"You have a Choice, which will affect you for all eternity; you can go return to the Land of the Living, or move forward into the Land of the Dead. There is a catch though, if you choose the Land of the Living; you will not be Immortal, only have a new lease of life. You can easily die once more. And if you chose the Land of the Dead, more specifically, you would go through to Avalon.

You never asked me what was Avalon, but to make you fully understand, I think I'll explain... is the Land of the Dead yes, but it has a more specific purpose. It is where all of the heroes are laid to rest. Lancelot, Balinor and... And your Father."

The shock that the Fallen Knight had made him stock still, but at this statement, he gazed in bewilderment at the Guardian of Avalon. "My Father?" He managed to choke out, emotion clouding his tone.

"Yes. If you go through this Portal, you will be able to see him, be able to see all of those who have entered. But, I must also warn you, that because of your attachment with Merlin, and the Portraits that he has painted, it is most likely that the white space that we occupy now will suddenly fill itself... with you."

Gwaine's mouth was slightly opened as his stunned brain struggled to take in all of the information.

"Admittedly I did delay you, and partly it was for my own reasons, but also those of others. I told you my Story, hoping it would influence you."

Gwaine was still confused, but he didn't ask any questions, like he had been for however long he had been here. For the first time since he had met Freya, properly, he let her speak fully, without being interrupted by him.

"I mentioned when I was retelling my life that I had never told anyone of my past before Merlin. But I didn't tell Merlin in detail of my past... I didn't want to upset him, or scare him of me, yet I told you. Aren't you curious to know why?

I told you because out of everybody I knew, you are the only one, I think, that understands. You understand what I went through, because you already helped somebody else go through the same pain, helped cease the fear that was present."

"You told me so I would go back into the Land of the Living," Gwaine realised, in what might be the last time.

"You saw their reactions in the moments before your Death," Freya said softly. "They need you, Gwaine, all of them. Leon, Arthur, Guinevere, Elyan, Percival, Merlin... And Her."

"She would have been happier without me," Gwaine argued. "I caused too much trouble when I intervened. I did what I had to do, and then I left."

"You don't know, do you?" Freya realised, her eyes widening in amazement.

"Don't know what?" Gwaine asked, frost lacing his tone. He didn't want her talking about his past, especially the section which he tried so hard to forget, to force the memories under lock and key.

"You don't know that when you parted ways all of those years ago, she didn't have anyone to help her. So she gave herself up for the good of others."

The Drunk reeled back, stunned, like he had all of those years ago. He had left her helpless, helpless against the One whom had been pursuing her.

"No," He breathed, desperation seizing him. "She wouldn't have done that, she fought, she fought against Him. She would never have gone with Him."

"Desperate times calls for desperate measures."

"I didn't recognise... I should have known... it's my entire fault, it's my entire fault."

"So don't you think it's time to right the wrong?" The Lady of the Lake pressed. "Don't you think it's time that somebody saves Her again for a change? Someone experienced, whom has done it once before?"

"Yes, I mean, No, I mean, obviously-" Gwaine stuttered, his mind plaguing him with thoughts over what might have happened and why she had done it. The guilt was eating away at him, slowly but steadily and suddenly Gwaine thought he had an inkling of how Merlin felt. How he felt every day for his mistakes.

"I'm sorry," Freya suddenly said, with real regret shining through. "I should not have pressed you. This is your Decision, not mine. It's just that Merlin..." She trailed off, and Gwaine could sense the love that she held for her Counterpart, whom she could never touch again, never share a kiss, only glance with love in their eyes and words laced with their feelings.

He didn't know how long he stood there, trying to make up his mind as he looked backwards and forwards between the two. He outweighed the pros and the cons, and the people on both sides.

Silent reigned.

And Gwaine made his Decision.

"Have you Decided?" The Guardian of Avalon asked.

He nodded.

And then the Fallen Knight stepped forward.

Now, I need to go to bed, and I'm sorry it took so long to update, though I thought I did pretty well considering that five people all at one time wanted access to the IPad.

Please, if there are any spelling mistakes, please could you tell me, and I will sort them out (the IPad liked to change words around)

I am now visiting my other set of family down in Dorset, where they don't have internet, but I will still be writing, I promise you!

P.S. An extra cookie and a dedication in the next chapter to those who spotted the numerous Doctor Who references (but not the one at the top in bold, cos that's pretty obvious, and the Harry Potter quote!)

G'Night Folks and I hope you have pleasant dreams...

P.S.S. If you want Gwaine to live, I'm afraid you're going to have to review...