A/N: Hello, folks! I hope you've all been doing okay! I've been really busy in RL, and I looked at the date yesterday and thought, I should really update 8 For 1. And then I didn't, so I'm doing it now. I hope you guys like this chapter, and I'd like to thank all of you for the amazing amount of support I've received from everyone! Each and every review, follow, and favorite makes my day a little brighter. And it's all thanks to you! I could never do this without you guys. :D

Note: I made the choice to genderbend one other character besides Merlin, and that character is that of Freya, as you will see in this chapter. Just to clear up any confusion, Frey/Merlin is NOT the the ship I mentioned in the author's note of chapter one. That, you will just have to wait and see. ;) Enjoy!

Summary: The soulmate words were seemingly the one form of magic Uther Pendragon could not best. Merlin has never wanted hers; they are sure to be a great deal of trouble on top of being a warlock. After all, soulmarks are a type of magic, and she has eight.

Spoilers for BBC's Merlin, Seasons One-Five

Warnings: Slight Angst, Multiple Canonical/Non-canonical Character Deaths

Chapter 7:

The dream comes only a few weeks after her mother's death, and it is how she knows that Gwen and Arthur are truly destined to fall in love.

Arthur, crowned King, is holding the hand of a beautiful woman in royal purple that must be Guinevere, although the confidence that radiates from the girl in the vision has not yet surfaced. They stand at the front of the Great Hall, and Arthur places a crown on her head, and the crowd roars, "Long live the Queen!"

Merlin has no problem with that, indeed, it makes her smile to even think of it—she just didn't expect it to happen so soon. Merlin isn't an idiot, she sees the looks they give each other when they think no one else is watching. She sees them fall for each other for good when the tournament happens. Merlin is happy for them, but wishes she could do something to help them. Anything.

Uther will never let them be together.

If they were soulmates, perhaps, but they have no matching words, with only a soulmark each, and he is a prince, and she is a servant. Merlin cannot help but feel bad that they bear her words instead of each other's. She has come between them without wishing or trying, and if their love is never allowed the opportunity to grow and blossom, it is her fault.

She can never forgive herself for that.

But there is nothing Merlin can do for now but smile, reassure them, and support them quietly in the background.

Days pass, and Merlin saves Camelot again and again and again. She regrets some of her decisions—she still really needs to tell Morgana about her magic, but she just can't work up the nerve—but always tries to make the best of everything.

Merlin figures that the more bad things happen to or around you, the more you should smile and the happier you should be, because you're still around to enjoy the good things, too. She grins wider at every joke, and laughs whenever she can.

If she's going to do this destiny thing, Merlin tells herself, she not going to be all grim and serious. There's no point, because it won't help anything, and she will always be miserable.

Merlin chats with Gwen, and banters with Arthur, and laughs with Leon. She avoids thinking of Lancelot.

She hardly thinks about soulmates anymore, really, doesn't truly try to avoid them, but doesn't seek them out either. Merlin meets a man once who is visiting every florist's shop in Albion to buy blue carnations because of what his mark says: Blue carnations? Good choice, I love those.

She wishes him luck, and watches him walk away, full of hope and determination.

She knows that people will do similar things, going to a certain type of place or such indicated by their marks to try and find their soulmates, but she isn't interested the way she once might have been. Not anymore. If her soulmates want to find her, they'll just have to stumble across her by chance.

And then Gwen is kidnapped by Hengist, and Merlin stumbles back across Lancelot by chance.

Merlin and Arthur jump in to save them just in time. Lancelot and Gwen are tied back to back inside the cage.

"What are you doing here, Lancelot?" Merlin can't keep herself from smiling so wide her cheeks ache, even though something in her chest aches worse at seeing him here.

He left me because he knew, she thinks—and immediately squashes the thought, shoving it away to the deepest darkest corner of her mind.

Lancelot is staring at her like she's given him Hengist's head on a silver platter. "I had to help Gwen. I knew she was another of your soulmates, and I couldn't leave her to die when she'd been so kind to me. I assume you're here to help?"

"You assume correctly," Arthur says, swinging his sword in a wide circle. "Now get behind us!"

They pull a miraculous escape. Lancelot shoots Merlin a look that seems to say, I know that was you, but deigns to say anything until they are free and clear.

"Still up to your old tricks, then, Merlin?" he inquires quietly, sticking his sword in the ground point-first as they set up camp.

"Probably best you don't mention it," she replies, and his smile is so infectious she can't help but smile back before she shakes it off and sits down to make a fire.

Later the four are sitting around the campfire when Lancelot brings up the rescue.

"I'm surprised you undertook a rescue mission with just the two of you," he says, raising his eyebrows at Gwen, who flushes red, and Arthur, who studiously looks away. "I don't suppose your father would let you have any men to rescue a servant, yet you came anyway."

Arthur clears his throat and searches for an excuse. "Well, Morgana begged me, and she and Guinevere are such good friends I couldn't refuse, even without my father's approval."

"I see." Lancelot nods understandingly.

"I need some rest," Gwen says abruptly, and Arthur agrees. Lancelot offers to stand guard, and Merlin sits down next to him, letting her hair down out of her bun for the night. He looks sideways at her and laughs at her annoyance at the hardship of trying not to yank out the tangled hairs at the base of her neck.

"They have feelings for each other, don't they?" Lancelot asks with a smile, although his question sounds more like a statement.

"Yes," she says, nodding and smiling at the thought. "I have hopes that when Arthur is king, he will make Gwen his queen."

Lancelot studies her, something Merlin doesn't recognize glittering in his eyes as he looks at her. "You know, don't you? You've seen the future. With your magic."

Merlin lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding, tugging at a strand of hair that is bundled into a knot. "Not…not exactly. I have dreams, sometimes. I've found that it's beneficial to believe them, or to do as they tell me. Once…once I dreamt to go and pick mushrooms. That's how I met you."

"That's amazing," he admits softly. "I've never known anyone like you before."

"You think it's amazing?" she can't keep the surprise out of her voice. Merlin looks down at her leather boots, scuffed with mud. "I thought, when you left, that maybe it was because of…because I'm…"

Lancelot's quiet, steady breathing beside her pauses for a moment. "You thought I left because you had magic. That I despised you for your gifts." It isn't a question.

"Yes," she says, finally.

"Oh, Merlin. You've the kindest heart of anyone I've ever known." Lancelot's voice is heavy with emotion. "Your magic, your incredible powers, they just makes you even more unique than you already are. I could never wish for anyone else as my soulmate. And you are so brave. I am honored to have you."

Merlin looks up at him, surprised to see tears glittering in his eyes. "You mean it?" She says softly.

"Always, Merlin. Always." Lancelot wraps his arms around her, and he's warm, even through the chainmail.

She buries her head in his shoulder, speechless. He understands what she can't say.

Merlin can't tell if her lightheartedness is obvious to the others the next morning, but neither Arthur nor Gwen comments on it. Lancelot stays just long enough to help them on their way.

"I'll miss you," Merlin says, delaying mounting her horse for as long as she can. "I wish you could come with us."

"Perhaps someday, things will change, and I can return to Camelot again." He tells her, hands on his sword hilt. Lancelot looks down with a smile. "But until then, stay safe and be happy."

Her grin and happy blue eyes are bright enough to shade the sun. "And you, Lancelot."

Lancelot raises his sword to Arthur, who salutes back. Merlin notices the tiny, meaningful nods they exchange, and only has a moment to wonder if maybe she missed something before the trio rides off at a canter.

If Merlin could allow herself to laugh at the latest Camelotian calamity, the troll debacle might be funny. But she's too busy saving everyone and not dying herself to sit down and have a good laugh. Next time, she consoles herself, and then immediately regrets assuming there will be a next time.

The days pass, and Merlin's life is as disastrous as ever, but she works through it, and reminds herself to be cheerful when other people can see her. Lancelot has been smoothed out. Her soulmate record is looking quite good, she reflects, at least, far better than it ever has before.

And then there is Frey.

She first sees him on the way back from the round with Gaius and something inside her screams that he is just like her, and wouldn't she want a stranger to help her? Gaius warns her off, but Merlin's thoughts can't get away from the pale boy with black hair, huddled in rags in a cage.

When Merlin is sure Gaius is asleep, she sneaks out, determined to free her kindred spirit. The look on his face when she comes up to the cage makes any doubts she has disappear.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," she says, and then, placing her hand on the lock, "Tospringe!"

It snaps open, and she releases his manacles before helping the boy climb out. If Merlin didn't know better, she might have thought that her words made him look more afraid than before. He's thinner even than she is, and she drapes his arm over her shoulder. He's far too light.

Once they are settled in the boy's new cave hideout, she offers him her jacket, but he shakes his head silently, declining the offer. Merlin realizes he hasn't yet spoken, not even to say his name.

"Why did you do that for me?" He asks quietly.

Oh. Soulmate.

She sits down rather abruptly, looking at him quite differently. Finally she settles on smiling and answering his question. "Because…well, it could've been me. In that cage. I'm Merlin, by the way."

He shakes her warm hand with his cool one and tentatively smiles back. "Frey."

She brings back food fit for a prince, as she jokingly tells Frey.

"Does anyone know you have magic?" he asks curiously as he eats.

"Only you," she says, looking into his deep blue-gray eyes. "You, my mentor, Gaius, and one other person. But…" Merlin thinks of Lancelot, and his kindness and nobility. "I don't think either of them really understand."

Frey shakes his head. "I wish I was like everyone else, but…"

"You just somehow know that you're not?"

"Because I'm cursed," he says. The despair in his voice cuts her to the core.

"Don't think that, Frey. Magic can be a gift, not just a curse. Look." She insists, stretching out her fingers eagerly. The candle flames slowly float up into the air, spinning around and around. The light flickers off their faces, but they stalwartly refuse to sputter and die.

Frey's face is full of wonder. "Beautiful," he breathes.

"Isn't it?" Merlin gently lowers the candles back down, grinning so wide she thinks she must look like a doofus.

Frey shakes his head slowly, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "I wasn't talking about the magic."

"Anything at all. Ham. Cheese."

"…strawberries."

Merlin raises an eyebrow but nods and rubs her hands together. "Strawberries it is." She claps her hands together and whispers a spell.

Frey's eyes twinkle with mirth and something else, too, and he smiles at her. Merlin opens her hands to show a delicate red rose, grins back, and hands it to him.

"This isn't a strawberry," he says gently, but he doesn't throw it away.

Merlin shrugs, grinning. "It's…the right color?"

Frey laughs, and she laughs with him. Suddenly he sobers, locking gazes with her where she sits next to him on the floor. "Why do you do these things for me? I'm sure a beautiful girl like you has better things to be doing than spending time with me."

She flushes red up the back of her neck and into the tips of her ears. "I'm no one, really, when I'm not here. But I…I like you," Merlin confesses. "With you, I can be who I am. We don't have to hide anything. We don't have to worry."

Frey shakes his head, looking down. "You're not scared of me, are you?"

"Being different...that's nothing to be scared of." Merlin suddenly realizes how close she's sitting to Frey, and something in her belly tingles with warmth, and she leans forward, and he leans forward….

Footsteps echo off the dark cave walls.

She jerks back, eyes wide and face red, made aware of what was about to happen. "They must've followed me."

The pair has to scramble to get away, and when the hunters are gone, so is the moment.

By the time Arthur catches her nipping a set of new clothes from his chambers, Merlin is in love. She smiles wide when no one can see her, and when everyone can see her, and feels like twirling around and around and around, and wants to hold onto Frey's hand and never let go.

She and Frey are leaving Camelot to be together, and they will be happy, and Merlin only thinks of everything she's leaving behind once, when Frey reminds her; but then she puts the thought away and only focuses on the good. But they are not to get a happy ending.

"You remembered," Frey says in a whisper, looking out at the blue lake, framed by green mountains and flowery meadows.

"Of course," Merlin says, cradling his head and shoulders in her arms, their foreheads almost touching, her throat and eyes burning. "I'm so sorry for what that sorcerer did to you."

"Oh, Merlin." He smiles, the affection in his blue-gray eyes dispelling the growing cold feeling in her heart for only a moment. "You've nothing to be sorry for."

Merlin shakes her head, the burning in her eyes and throat becoming worse. "There must be some way I can save you!"

Frey coughs wetly, blood turning his mouth red. "You already have." His eyes are serene and warm, and full of something Merlin recognizes only vaguely. She has seen it in her mother's eyes, and Will's when he told Merlin that he loved her. "You loved me. And the beauty of your love made me feel less of a monster."

She brushes the fringe of his messy black hair away from his face, wishing the tears would come. "You were never a monster, Frey. I…I don't want you to go."

Frey smiles again, and he looks like he is happy. "One day, Merlin. One day, I will repay you. I…I promise." He sighs heavily, and it takes Merlin a moment to realize that he has breathed his last.

Something like a brittle piece of wood snaps inside her, where last she felt the warm tingle of love. She bends over him again, eyes shut tight. Merlin gently presses her lips to his forehead, wishing for just one more moment. Just one more.

A tear trails down her cheek and it feels like acid.

Frey is gone. Part of her heart goes with him.