Chapter 13: The Lady of the Lake

While we had been working on the treaty, the armies had been preparing pyres at the base of the slope, stacking the wood and laying the bodies from the battle atop them. There came a night when every man living who wasn't in the infirmaries or tending to those there gathered around the pyres as dusk fell. All eight armies and what was left of the Saxon army intermingled together around the long row of the dead.

There had been no discrimination in how the dead were laid out. The dead of the kingdoms of Albion lay amongst one another, and the Saxons were mixed in with them too. There was no separation of the magical from the nonmagical, either.

Stationed around the row of pyres were those who would light them. Some were soldiers holding torches; others were sorcerers, holding balls of flames in their hands.

Father and Uncle Merlin stood before the central pyre, Father holding a torch aloft, Uncle Merlin with flames flickering in his hands. There was no sign of his usual tension at using magic, however.

The two of them stepped forward and simultaneously lit the central pyre. All up and down the line, pyres burst into flames as the knights thrust their torches into the wood and the sorcerers caused the wood to ignite. Then we all stepped back and watched.

The flames danced upward toward the sky, bright against its darkness. There was no sound save the crackling of the fires and the soft weeping of those left. No one condemned anyone else for tear tracks on their cheeks glittering in the firelight; there was no separation between nations, enemies, or those with magic. We were all drawn closer together, and together we grieved those whose loss brought us together now.

In the stillness, one of the women healers began a soft chant of mourning, and one by one the few women who had come along – the queens and the healers – took up the chant. Their soft voices wove together with the flames in the night as we grieved the dead.

The Saxons left the day after the dead were laid to rest, but all the armies of Albion stayed on a few days thereafter, giving the wounded a chance to recover and the men a chance to rest before the long marches home. Father gathered all the kings and queens one night, and we had as much of a feast as could be had so far from home in celebration of winning the war.

He rose when the meal was done, lifting his goblet in his hand. "I wish to thank each of you for your presence," he told the attentive group. "Without all of you, victory could not have been achieved. Together, we took on the Saxons, and together, we prevailed. I was honored to fight alongside each of you and each of your men, as we fought with courage and honor. We have preserved our homes, our kingdoms, and the people we serve." He lifted his goblet. "To victory! And to Albion!"

The cry was echoed around the room as everyone drank the toast, but when Father sat down, Queen Annis arose unexpectedly. She stepped forward and looked at Father through piercing eyes.

"We kings and queens have been talking," she said abruptly, "and we have come to the conclusion that we wish to stay in alliance, with you, King Arthur, as our High King."

Father, I could tell, was having to struggle not to gape widely as Queen Annis went on. "You have led us well in war; we trust that you will lead us well in peace." She lifted her goblet. "To Albion! And to Arthur! Long live the king!"

The whole room rose to their feet and echoed the cry. I noticed that there were some, like Queen Mithian, Queen Elena, and King Bayard, who shouted the words with complete sincerity in their faces; but even King Odin, King Lot, and King Alinor had respect, however grudging, in their eyes.

Father was still looking stunned. "I never expected the kingdoms to give me this power," he remarked in an undertone, his words covered by the noise.

"You are the only one who could lead them, though," Mother told him. Her eyes were shining with her absolute trust in him.

This development necessitated remaining where we were a while longer as new treaties were drawn up with all the kingdoms, giving the central authority to Father and Camelot.

"Do you think it was the prophecy that made all this happen?" Father asked Uncle Merlin over supper after the final treaty, with Cornwall, had been signed. Mother quickly shook her head, but left it to Uncle Merlin to reply.

"If by that you mean to ask if this is all contrived and will fall apart shortly, I don't think so," Merlin answered sincerely. "All the prophecy did was foresee this moment and predict it, and I doubt many of the kings have even heard of it. No, you earned this moment, Arthur. Their loyalty to you is real."

"I'd never have had this moment if you hadn't done all the work of getting the kingdoms to ally for war," Father told Merlin. "I guess the prophecy was right about the Once and Future King needing Emrys to help him complete his destiny."

Uncle Merlin stared at Father rather blankly. "You've been told that prophecy?"

"Freya explained it to me when I demanded to know why I could be sent back to live again," Father explained. "Apparently as a druid it was common knowledge to her."

He sounded rather hesitant to bring Freya up, but Uncle Merlin only looked pained for a moment. "Yes, the prophecies were known among the druids," he admitted, looking as if his thoughts were elsewhere.

Father waited a moment before he added, "Now that the battle is fought and Albion is united, you have time to tell me all your secrets, Merlin." There was a rather devious smile on his face. "I want to hear every minute detail – no leaving anything out this time."

Uncle Merlin smiled just a bit at that, but it was the first half of what Father said that really seemed to sink in to him. "Albion united," he whispered, and repeated it aloud. "Albion united! And magic is legal – I never believed it would happen. What am I to do with myself now?"

"Oh, I don't know; there's plenty of things to do," Father quickly informed him. "Do magic? Help me protect Camelot? Just be Merlin? There has to be plenty you can do with your life besides getting some old prophecy fulfilled."

Uncle Merlin laughed, but there were tears shining in his eyes, and he looked more at peace than I ever remembered seeing him.

We finally broke our camp on Caerleon's border two days after that and began making our way back toward Camelot. The mood of the journey was much more lighthearted than the mood on the way out had been. Father rode near Uncle Merlin most of the time, and as he said he would, quizzed him on all the magical details of the past. He was obviously very curious and eager to learn, and was accepting of the narrative he was told; Uncle Merlin opened up with Father displaying this attitude and told him his magical tales freely. Unlike the coherent stories he had once told me, though, Uncle Merlin's stories to Father were mostly reminding him of strange occurrences and filling in details, with plenty of teasing mixed in.

"What was the first time you saved me with magic?" Father asked, sitting comfortably in the saddle.

Uncle Merlin laughed a bit to himself. "The very first time I ever saved you was with magic," he said frankly. "Your father had no idea he was rewarding me for using magic when he made me your servant."

Father looked rather startled before laughing himself. "How did you do it?" he pressed.

"I made the chandelier drop on Mary Collins," Uncle Merlin told him. "And I slowed time to get you out of the way of the knife."

"You can slow time?" Father asked, sounding very incredulous.

Merlin's thoughts were clearly elsewhere, however, as he just gave a brief nod in response. "That was the first time I ever killed," he said softly after a moment.

Father looked rather torn. "I wish you hadn't learned to kill for me," he said earnestly.

Uncle Merlin nodded and shook himself out of that mood. "That wasn't the first time I used magic around you, though," he said lightly.

"Right, the mace fight," Father said, smiling. "I used to wonder sometimes why I was so incompetent that day."

"I wasn't joking when I said I could take you apart in less than one blow," Uncle Merlin reminded him.

"Luckily you didn't try that," Father commented. "So is it true that Sophia actually tried to drown me in Avalon?" Apparently he had seen one of our conversations about that in the past.

"Of course," Uncle Merlin replied. "I'm not likely to have imagined how cold that lake is to swim in."

"You seemed to imagine a fair few things," Father reminded him cheerfully. "Knocked me out with a piece of wood? Really Merlin?"

"You prefer your mind being taken over and subsequent drowning?" Merlin retorted. "I'll bear that in mind for the next time it happens, you clotpole."

Sometimes this discussion got serious. "I wish I'd known Balinor was your father; maybe then I wouldn't have been so insensitive in the way I tried to comfort you."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell –"

"Merlin. Stop apologizing! I understand why you didn't. I'm sorry for what I said, though."

"You can stop apologizing for the things you said too, then. You didn't know."

And sometimes it was quite ridiculous. "I went on that quest alone, remember, Merlin?"

"I can testify you didn't," Uncle Gwaine inserted.

"And if we hadn't been there, the wyverns would have had their way with you," Uncle Merlin told him.

"I would never have thought a girlish bracelet would have defeated me," Father grumbled. "How much power do you have, anyway, Merlin? Most powerful sorcerer, dragonlord who can also defeat anything dragonish – next things next I'll discover you can command rats and could have kept my chambers clear of them all that time."

"When you find out how I can get that power, you can let me know," Uncle Merlin told him cheerfully.

They were in the middle of one of these ridiculous conversation on the last day of our trip home; Camelot was close and we were all eager to get there.

"Was there ever any adventure we went on that you didn't find it necessary to do magic on?"

"Of course not, sire; you always got yourself in situations where you needed me to save your sorry backside."

"Merlin! I was not some damsel in distress waiting around to be saved! I will have you know that my skills and expertise were what got us out of tight corners far more than your magic tricks!"

"Of course, sire. Whatever you say, sire."

"You're mocking me now, aren't you? You really think you were the hero of this whole tale?"

"Well, I can't imagine who else the hero would be!"

We were coming up on the path that branched off toward Avalon when Uncle Merlin suddenly pulled his horse to a standstill.

"What is it?" Father asked, reining in his horse too, but as he followed the direction Merlin was looking – toward the path to Avalon – he drew in his breath sharply.

There was a woman standing there at the entrance to the path, a woman in a long purple and blue gown that made her look like a princess, her brown hair sweeping her shoulders. She seemed to simply be waiting.

By this time everyone was looking in that direction. "Is that –" Uncle Gwaine began, very uncertainly for him, but by that time Uncle Merlin had kicked his horse onward and was riding toward the woman as fast as the tired mare could carry him. The rest of us – the knights and royal family – followed him as swiftly as we could.

He had dismounted the moment he reached the girl, and the two were simply standing there, staring at each other, as if neither really believed the other was real.

"Freya?" Uncle Merlin breathed hesitantly, not even noticing the rest of us.

"Merlin," she echoed, a shy smile lighting her face.

"Are you –" he began. "But how –"

"Your apprentice Rodney," she whispered. "You told him about me. When he crossed to be with Lilyanna, he asked for his life to be exchanged with mine. Somehow," she faltered, her breath catching, before she reached out her hand tentatively. "It worked. I – I could come back."

Uncle Merlin was taking her in as though he thought she would disappear again and leave him with only this memory; slowly he reached out and took her hand in his. "You're really here," he whispered incredulously.

Her smile was bright. "I'm really here," she told him.

They were still watching each other as if neither really believed this was happening, the touch of their hands the only thing connecting them. The rest of us watched them, giving them this moment.

"Was what we had real?" Merlin whispered at last, his voice anguished as if he had thought about this often over the years. "Or was it all because we were both young and desperate and alone?"

Freya looked up into his eyes, and her smile was sweet, shy, and rather sad all at once. "Have you stopped thinking of me since?" she whispered.

"Never!" he exclaimed, shaking his head quickly.

"I've never stopped thinking of you either," she murmured. "I never could."

I think Uncle Merlin got her point at that moment, for he swept her into his arms, whispering her name; she wrapped her arms closely around him, and they clung to each other tightly.

I had to look away, for this moment felt as if it was the culmination of years of waiting which neither had ever really expected to end, a faint and fragile hope suddenly becoming reality. Even Uncle Gwaine, whom I would have expected to tease, stayed silent and pensive.

When they drew apart, Uncle Merlin took Freya's hands and held them tightly in his; he was smiling in a specially bright way I never remembered seeing from him before. Freya was looking into his eyes with a wide smile of her own, and neither of them seemed to feel the need to say anything for a long moment.

Then Uncle Leon's horse stamped sharply, and they both seemed to realize they had an audience and turned to face us, still both smiling in the way I tended to associate with married couples, even if there were still old shadows of pain in their eyes.

"So this is Freya?" Mother asked, slipping off her horse and holding out a hand to Freya. She took it rather shyly, but Mother pulled her into a quick hug.

"It's good to get to meet you," she told the younger girl earnestly.

We had all dismounted by now, and Lancelot followed Mother up to Freya. "I'm so glad you're able to come back," he said in his earnest way, clasping her hand for a moment and making me remember that he would have spent the longest in the lake with her.

Uncle Gwaine walked up to her after him. "Maybe you can help bring some life to our friend here," he said, punching Merlin teasingly in the arm, but his face showed his sincerity.

Uncle Elyan and Father also congratulated her on her return to life, and Uncle Merlin introduced her to Uncle Leon and Uncle Percival. By this time Freya looked rather overwhelmed, but Uncle Merlin beckoned me forward too.

"And this is Amhar," he told her, a distinct note of pride in his voice.

She smiled and reached out to touch my shoulder for a moment. "It's nice to know you're real after watching you grow up from the lake," she told me softly.

Father nudged Uncle Merlin in the shoulder. "If you're wondering what to do with yourself now that Albion is united, I think you have your answer," he said, a teasing light in his eyes. When Uncle Merlin glanced at him, frowning, he added, "Get married, of course!"

Merlin turned rather red. "Shut up, Arthur," he muttered, but he was smiling.

"That's my line!" Father reminded him quickly.

Presently we all began remounting the horses to get back to Camelot, as the army which had been following us from a bit of a distance started catching up. The knights who had known Freya in the lake and Father seemed unequivocally happy to see her return, but for the rest of us it was a little strange to see the girl Uncle Merlin had loved, lost, and could never bear to talk about in the flesh. I was glad a thousand times over that she had come, though, if just to bring that look of joy to Uncle Merlin's face.

I was nearest them as Uncle Merlin lifted Freya onto his horse so they could ride together, and I heard him ask her in an undertone, "The bastet – is it—"

"It's gone," she told him. "That curse ended with my death."

He was beaming at her as he swung up onto his horse. "Then I can really look after you this time," he said determinedly.

We came back to Camelot in the late afternoon, but we had clearly been sighted long before we returned, because the whole city was in the streets when we rode in. Wild cheering and chants of "Long live the king!" accompanied us as we rode through the city. I spotted Anna and Galahad pressing to the front of the throng, Anna clapping so hard her hands were nearly a blur, and we shared smiles before I rode on.

When we reached Camelot, Leon and Percival's wives were in the courtyard waiting for them, along with nearly everyone who worked or lived in the castle, and they all cheered our homecoming eagerly. The threat of the Saxons had passed, and everyone in Camelot felt the relief.

For myself, though, I really wanted nothing more than to go to sleep in my own bed, in safety, and not wake up for a long, long time.

I had never in my life seen Uncle Merlin try to woo a woman, but after we came back with Freya, the two of them were almost continually in each other's company, which felt very strange to me to begin with. The day after we got back, Uncle Merlin took Freya on a tour of the whole city of Camelot.

Father watched wistfully from a window as they walked hand in hand through the lower town. "They don't have to hide anymore," he commented to Mother. I realized that this explained the triumphant joy in Uncle Merlin's face that day – it was at finally being able to show her all of Camelot, his home, without fear.

Freya was a sweet, shy woman. She never seemed comfortable around people, with the possible exceptions of the knights who had been in the lake with her, and if she was in a room with people she didn't know and Uncle Merlin wasn't there, she would become very tense and quiet. But around Uncle Merlin she expanded like a flower in sunshine, bright-eyed and smiling; he was the only one who was able to make her laugh.

Uncle Merlin clearly adored her, and he had a smile reserved just for her. With her back, he was lighthearted in a way I had never seen in him, and he used magic around her as freely as breathing.

There was one afternoon when I heard humming coming toward me from someone walking down the hallway. That in and of itself wasn't unusual; I'd heard plenty of people humming while going about their duties in Camelot. But when Uncle Merlin strode around the corner, head in the clouds and humming cheerfully under his breath, and passed me without even noticing me, I made up my mind. Being in love made people crazy.

One morning, I woke up earlier than usual, before the sun was up, and decided to go watch the sunrise from the turrets before going to breakfast with my parents; if you wake up in time, there is no better place to watch the sunrise in Camelot than from the turrets. When I got there, panting and out of breath, I found that somebody had already stolen my idea. Uncle Merlin and Freya were standing shoulder to shoulder against the parapet, his jacket around her shoulders. Not wanting to interrupt them, but not wanting to leave either, I hung back in the shadows and watched as the sky in the east turned gold.

They were standing still, watching too, as the clouds turned to ribbons of pink. Then Uncle Merlin cupped his hands and whispered something magical I couldn't make out at all. He turned and handed Freya a small red strawberry.

"You remembered," she murmured, taking it with a smile.

"Of course," he told her.

"It's not a rose this time," she commented.

"I learned to make strawberries," Merlin answered. "There was a time I thought I'd go crazy if I couldn't do that at least." But he cupped his hands again and made a small red rose, which he presented to her with a little bow. She tucked it into her hair over one ear.

"It's the right color," Freya said, smiling as she turned to watch the sunrise again.

His eyes bright, Merlin cupped his hands to make a second strawberry, and they ate the strawberries quietly together.

"Will you be happy here?" he asked her suddenly. "It's not what we dreamed, and there will always be crowds here."

"It's not a couple of cows," Freya said dreamily.

"Mountains and a lake and wildflowers," Merlin echoed. "Though you can find wildflowers if you go a little ways out of the city. Goodness knows I had to pick them for Gaius often enough."

"A few fields," Freya finished. There was a moment's silence before she added, "It wasn't for the scenery that I was willing to try making a life, Merlin. It was you."

"You were the reason I was thinking of leaving," he answered quietly.

She turned to look up at his face, framed dark against the brightness of the coming day. "I'd be willing to stay just about anywhere if you were there," she told Uncle Merlin earnestly. "I'll be happy here with you."

"I'd be happy anywhere with you," he answered fervently. "But I can't really leave this place now."

"Of course not," she said. "It's your home. So I'll stay and we'll make a home here together. If that's what you want," she added quickly.

"I want that more than anything," he said wistfully.

Even against the light, I could tell she smiled. "There's no curse in the way now," she whispered.

"So we make our new life here in Camelot?" he asked her, voice low and tender.

She bent her head and nodded, drawing closer to him. He took her hands tightly in his and bent to kiss her.

It was the first time I had ever seen them kiss. I stared for a moment, mesmerized, at their silhouettes, dark against the sharp brightness of the coming dawn, gently kissing each other; then I came to myself and scurried back into the stairwell. It was one thing to watch my parents kiss; it was quite another to watch Uncle Merlin do it.

I did wonder, though, as I pattered rapidly down the stairs, if that conversation was Uncle Merlin's way of proposing. If that was the case, I supposed it was time I started calling his lady Aunt Freya.

A/N: I am so sorry this didn't appear when it was promised! The internet where I live can be finicky at times, and it proceeded to vanish on Monday before I could post this chapter and didn't come back until now. I'm really sorry this was so late, though!

I really loved being able to bring Freya back; thanks for all the support for that idea! This story is starting to draw to a close; I think there's only going to be two more chapters. The next one will be out on Wednesday – "A Time of Magic."