From the author's desk: I'm late, again. Sorry guys! But today's my birthday, and I've been entirely unproductive all weekend because I've been in a mood to celebrate. Anyway, THIS IS IT EVERYONE. This is the very last installment of Build Your Wings and Fly, Love. Thank you to all of you who've been reading from the beginning, and to all of you who came to it later. Your support is everything to me.
I promised answers for last week's question: in the trial, "the boy" is a "reincarnated" young!Mordred, the defense lawyer who questions Merlin after Percy is "reincarnated" Cedric (the guy who became possessed by Cornelius Sigan-remember him?), and the judge is "reincarnated" Geoffrey of Monmouth! And if anyone else caught it-I know my beta did-Mr. Kilgour and his daughter are meant to be Kilgharrah and Aithusa. Whatcha think of all that?
Anyway, please enjoy this last epilogue to wrap things up, and leave me a review. I'd love to know your thoughts on the ending.
Finally, I give many, many thanks for my two fantastic betas-CaptainOzone and ExcaliburMaiden-for sticking with me through this rollercoaster of a story. It was a doozy to write, but so entirely worth it in the end.
Until next time everyone!
Disclaimer: IDOM.
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Epilogue
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Freya's eyes glow in Merlin's dancing candlelight.
When they hold hands, Merlin never wants to let go.
There is laughter in her voice as he hands her a rose.
A tear comes to his eye when they kiss the first time.
With you I can just be who I am.
We don't have to hide anything.
We don't have to worry.
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It's been a year since the judge's verdict sentenced Jarl and Kanen to life imprisonment.
Merlin had made a conscious decision to go back to therapy in the aftermath of the trial. The whole experience had reopened old wounds, and as willing as Freya and his friends were to listen to him, he didn't have the heart to make them deal with his issues.
Still, he could never be thankful enough for Arthur, Gwen, and Morgana.
And he never thought he'd be lucky enough to love and be loved by someone like his Freya.
His Freya.
He rather likes the sound of that.
"Oh, Doctor Ambrose," Freya's sing-song voice whispers in his ear, breaking him from his musings and bringing him back to the dance floor.
"Hi," he says with a grin.
"Hello," she responds with a smile. "Where did your mind wander off to?"
"Just thinking about the last year," he explains. "So much has changed."
"Like Gwen and Arthur finally getting married?" she suggests as he spins her out, the skirt on her deep purple bridesmaid's dress flaring beautifully around her legs.
"Well, there is that of course," he chuckles as he pulls her back in towards him. "But I was thinking more along the lines of you and me."
"Well, now you're that cool young professor that all the uni kids love taking classes with," Freya says with a hint of pride.
"And you're that famous model that all the big names want in their shows and commercials and television serials," Merlin tells her, dropping a kiss to the crown of her head.
They fall silent again, content to be held in each other's arms, as they continue to dance.
Later, after all the festivities are over, the newly-wedded Mr. and Mrs. Pendleton have been seen off to their hotel room for their own celebration, and all the guests are nearly gone, Merlin loops his arms around his girlfriend and rests his chin on her shoulder.
"Shall we go home now?" he asks, and kisses her neck.
Freya giggles and nods. "Yes."
The taxi ride home is quiet but comfortable. Freya is nestled against Merlin's side as they watch the city lights zoom past them outside, and they share a fond smile when they pass the café where they had their first date and the bookshop where they first met.
Finally they come to their building. Merlin pays the cab fare while Freya waits for him and takes out her keys. They enter the building lobby together and board the elevator.
"Home sweet home," Freya says after she unlocks their door and dumps her keys in the bowl next to it.
Merlin hums contentedly before wrapping his arms around Freya again. "No more excitement for awhile then."
Freya laughs. "I still can't get over the look on Morgana's face when the bouquet landed in front of her on the table."
Merlin begins to laugh as well. "I know. I wonder if she'll ever find someone?"
"Morgana seems more likely to come to us and say, 'By the way, this is my husband,'" Freya muses.
"Or wife," Merlin adds. "And then we'll all gripe at her for not even telling us that she was getting married, let alone seeing someone."
Freya laughs again and leans back into Merlin's chest.
Humming quietly, Merlin begins to sway and then begins to dance them around the living room. Freya stumbles in her pumps a couple times and laughs before she finally kicks the shoes off.
"I'm surprised you didn't do that earlier," he says.
"I don't know why I didn't either. I've wanted to take them off all evening," she says and rests her ear over his heart. Merlin goes back to swaying back and forth, his eyes closed as he rests his chin on top of her head.
"I have something I want to show you," he whispers to her, and he can't help the smile that breaks across his face.
Freya looks up at him questioningly, and he grins down at her before taking her hand and leading her into the second room that he uses as a study and art studio. An easel sits in the corner with a canvas resting on it, the painting turned away to keep it hidden.
Merlin goes to the easel and turns back to Freya as he grabs the top of the painting. "Close your eyes."
Freya raises an eyebrow at him but promptly closes her eyes. "Keep them closed," he warns as he takes the painting off the stand momentarily to flip it around and lift the protective sheet that covers the painted side.
"Just a little longer," Merlin teases as he resettles the canvas on the easel, the painting finally on display.
Merlin then takes Freya's hand in his and brings her to stand just a few feet from the painting.
"Can I look now?" Freya asks him impatiently.
"Yes, yes," he eagerly responds. "Now you can look."
Merlin watches her as she takes the painting in, relishing in her wonder as she realizes what she's truly seeing.
"You…you painted…me," she gasps out in surprise.
Merlin looks at his painting of Freya, her arms outstretched and a warm smile on her face. She is dressed elegantly in flowing red silk, and her head is topped with a thin circlet of diamonds. She floats on the surface of a lake and is surrounded by mist, which blends into the background image of the winged cat from his dreams, its midnight fur and amber eyes gleaming in the moonlight, its wings majestically outstretched and head thrown back in a powerful roar.
"Oh…Merlin, I…I don't know what to say," she says, her eyes wide in amazement. Merlin watches her reach out a hand, fingers tentatively tracing the brush strokes on the dress, the panther, the water and the mists.
"Do you want to know what it's called?" he asks her, his voice hushed as he wraps his arms around her again.
Tonight's just one of those nights when he doesn't want to let her go, when he wants to keep her as close to him as possible.
"I called it 'Bastet,'" he explains in a whisper. "It's the name of an Egyptian goddess. She was once known as a goddess of war but later became known as a goddess of protection. Her patron animal was the cat." He kisses her shoulder. "You're my warrior." He kisses the back of her neck at the juncture of her spine and feels her shiver in his arms. "You're my protector."
He turns her around so that she's facing him. Gently, Merlin grasps her chin, tilting her face up so that her eyes meet his.
"You're my Freya," he whispers, "and I love you."
She kisses him soundly, a hint of the strawberries she was nibbling after dinner lingering on her lips, and he savors the mixed taste of something sweet and spicy and distinctly Freya.
When they break apart, Freya looks at him and smiles. "I love you too. And thank you."
She turns to look lingeringly back at the painting before turning back to him and kissing him once more. "You made me beautiful."
"You are beautiful," Merlin says earnestly. "I've thought you were beautiful since the day we met when I knocked the books out of your hand. I couldn't speak for a second because all I could think was 'ooooh, pretty.'"
Freya laughs at his silliness. "The history student lost for words? And all because of little old me?"
Merlin grins at her. "It's true. I just got lucky because not only are you beautiful on the outside, you're beautiful on the inside too."
Freya smiles, her cheeks flushing pink at his praise.
"You told me once that I was the only one you couldn't paint," she says as she looks back at the painting again. "You said it was because I was hurt in your dreams, and you couldn't bear it. Did your dreams change?"
Merlin looks at the painting as well, thinking about the dreams he's had in recent months and trying to figure out how to explain. "Remember I said it seemed like my dreams told a story, only the parts were out of order? Well, at some point in the last year, the dreams changed. Like…people are still knights and nobles and whatnot, but it's as though the story the dreams were trying to tell is over and somehow resolved, and instead a new story is starting."
Merlin looked at Freya who was looking at him a bit disbelievingly. He shook his head. "I don't really understand it either. All I know is that when I dreamed of you last, I dreamed that you were happy, that we were happy, and it felt like whatever block was keeping me from painting you was gone."
Freya smiles softly at him, and reaches up to kiss the corner of his mouth. "I'm glad," she whispers, glances at the painting fondly once more, and then turns toward the door while stifling a yawn.
"I'm going to get ready for bed," she says, looking back at him. "Are you coming?"
He gives her a gentle push toward the door. "Yeah, in a minute."
She nods and leaves.
Once she's gone, Merlin goes to the case where he keeps his art supplies and opens it. Carefully, he pulls out a small wad of paint-stained rags, unraveling the rough material to reveal a small velvet box. Cracking it open delicately, Merlin examines the small, simple ring inside, gently tracing his thumb over the band. The diamond set into the white gold glitters in the light.
He smiles and gently tucks the engagement ring back into its hiding place.
Not much longer now, Merlin decides.
And then, hopefully, they can fly together into an even brighter future.
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"We have not come into this exquisite world
To hold ourselves hostage from love.
Run my dear,
From anything
That may not strengthen
Your precious budding wings."
– Hafiz
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fin