AN: Owning Merlin would be nice, I wish I did.

So, feel free to yell at me, but trust me, I'm already ashamed of how long this chapter took. I never wanted to be one of *those* authors that takes forever between updates. I actually would have posted this sooner but I had a little writing hiatus, so.

I don't want to jinx it, but hopefully the next update will be pretty soon. I'm slowly gaining a sense of where this story is going. I'm going to do a chapter soon explaining more of what Morgana and Morgause were talking about, but I also want to do one about Igraine confronting Uther about his attitude towards Arthur.

BTW I've given up on this story having decent-sized chapters, so I hope to compensate with more.

Arthur rubbed his forehead. Frustration was filling him, along with a sense of loss. The more he heard about Merlin, the more he realized how much he didn't know about his former servant. He knew it was unfair to be thinking Why, Merlin? Why didn't you tell me? But he couldn't help it. He was dead, and Merlin would live on, not knowing Arthur was wishing he could speak to him again, to speak to him without any secrets between them.

And, most of all, for once he just wanted to thank his friend. He'd said it before, they'd been his last words. But now he felt they had been empty, he'd barely known what he was thanking Merlin for.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I just thought you'd want to know."

The dead king looked up. There was a young girl standing in front of him. She was pretty, with dark hair and eyes. And, for some reason, she wore one of Morgana's old dresses.

"What do you mean?" he said, confused. "I'm sorry, I don't know who you are."

She smiled. She seemed friendly enough...not that it mattered, Arthur thought ironically, it's not like anything could be done to him anymore.

"My name is Freya. I sent Merlin's friend and father to tell you more about him. I just wanted to know, I thought you'd want to understand. I wasn't trying to guilt you or anything."

He sighed. "Thank you, Freya. I'm glad you did." His eyes narrowed in thought. "Actually...you look king of familiar. I feel like we've met."

"Yes, the faces of those we kill never really leave us."

She said it matter-of-factly, no trace of malice in her face or voice, but Arthur recoiled as though she had spat the words again. A memory suddenly flashed across his mind. He remembered teasing Merlin about having a dress, and later that night...

His eyes widened. "You...you were the druid girl!" His eyes roved her dress again, a horrible suspicion growing. "Did you...were you and Merlin..."

She looked sympathetic, of all things. "He rescued me from the bounty hunter. He took care of me, planned to run away with me. But, alas, it couldn't happen. He was meant to be in Camelot, with you."

Arthur wondered how she could say that. Her forgiveness was only making him feel worse. His memory had suddenly become a lot sharper, and he saw her screaming, falling to her knees, her limbs stretching and becoming coated in black fur...

"I'm sorry," he stammered.

She merely smiled again. "Do not worry, Arthur Pendragon. Merlin forgave you, and so did I."

He felt rather overwhelmed. He'd heard of Merlin's loyalty, but this...this was more than he'd imagined.

"Would you still like me to tell you my stories of Merlin?"

He swallowed. "Please."