Merlin kicked his heels into the horse's sides, feeling the ever-increasing urgency as its hooves pounded the ground. Only this time, there was nothing wrong. No major crisis. No ghosts needing reburial, no armies to stop. This day was completely normal, except for one thing. And that one thing, said she would be waiting for him.

Ever since she had learned to cross the veil after the dragon had breathed on her, on the day of her death, she could easily cross between the living and the dead. Only there was a risk. She could be trapped on either side. In his world, she would've been recognized as the girl that was supposed to be dead. In the other world—the "In-Between-Place", as she called it— she would be tormented by the spirits of her family and others… For she did not belong there just yet. And sadder still , she did not belong here anymore either. Such was the price of playing with life and death.

But that didn't matter now. She had found a way out. And now he was here.

"Freya!" He dismounted his horse, running to the edge of the Lake. "Freya!"

He heard nothing at first, but then then he saw the bubbles and then the ripples, beginning slowly, and then becoming more aggressive as they continued. It all happened so fast.

"Bha!" She gasped as her body burst up and backward, gasping for air. Without thinking, he ran to her, catching her, she fell toward him, both of them in water up to their waists. Her breathing was ragged and her words came out in sobs.

"They kept me down there! They said I didn't belong. But they kept me down there! And their voices! They were there! All of their voices!" She was shaking, and her breaths were coming in quick and short. Merlin wondered why he had been so happy to witness this at all.

"Freya. Freya, sweetheart calm down." He tried to take hold of her, but she was fighting against him, her eyes, almost crazed with the visions of where she had been. One word cascaded over the other, as she could barely breathe enough to get them out.

"Aaron! And Papa! And the children! He told me to go back, but they grabbed my legs and screamed for me to stay! I wanted to, but they were covered in blood! They were covered in blood, Merlin! Merlin!" His name shattered, as it left her lips, jagged and frightened like broken glass. He held her to him, and she stayed there only for a few moments before she started fighting again, as though a spirit had overtaken her

"No! No! This isn't right! I should be with them! Let me go!" She turned around, trying to go back into the deeper waters, but he held her arms firmly, eventually forcing her bodily to turn around.

"Freya! Freya, stop!" He pulled her forward once more, and placed hands firmly on her face, forcing his on lips on hers in a last effort to get her back.

Normally he would never ever do this. Force himself upon her like that. But he couldn't think of anything else to do. She'd never been this far gone before.

As he held her there, he felt her calm down gradually, her breath slowing, and her hands no longer shaking, moving gently to his chest. He felt the otherworld melt away from her as she began to kiss him back, slow, yet eager, like waves meeting the shore after a year of being dammed. Losing himself from his original purpose, he felt his hand move from her face to the back of her head, her black-brown hair still cold and damp from the Lake. He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her firmly as they parted, her lips and nose brushing his chin as she looked down, ashamed.

"Sorry," she said quietly. He frowned, knowing what she meant, but decided to make light of it anyway.

"Not a problem," he said with a chuckle, but when she didn't look up, he abandoned the attempt, placing his thumb and forefinger under her chin, he gently lifted it.

"It's all right," he said softly. But his words of kindness touched her so that she could not bear it. Her eyes again filled with tears, and she thrust herself upon him, head on his chest and biting her lip to keep from crying.

Still standing in the water, he leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"Shhh," he said, "it's all right. You're with me. Stay with me."

She held him tightly like a child to her parent, and he could feel the terrible urgent strength within her arms. Quietly he looked down, and she looked up at him, and kissing her tenderly, he moved her arms up around his neck, and lifted her, carrying her out of the water and toward land.

After a while, when she had dried off and calmed down from the journey, she lay there resting on the green grass next to the lake, looking out upon it.

"It's beautiful." She said. The bright blue waves hypnotized her eyes, despite the fact that she had been a prisoner to them for so long. She turned her head to look at her beloved, just staring for a moment, concentrating on his eyes, as blue as the waters behind her. She smiled lightly, as one of his fingers caressed her cheek, moving a chestnut lock from her face.

"Not as beautiful as you,"

He sat up and leaned toward her, kissing her again, her mouth tasting of the fresh and cool dungeon she had left. His lips, met with hers, several times over, and he was entranced, wondering with each touch why this couldn't happen more often.

"Merlin!"

They parted from each other in haste, his cheek, brushing the edge of her mouth as he turned to the familiar voice, and recognizing it, got up quickly. The cry had not been far off.

"Damn it," he said, "it's Arthur!" What in the world was he doing here! He had specifically said that he would be gone all day picking herbs. He helped her up. "Quick! Hide! If he sees you—"

She had pulled him forward by his neckerchief, kissing him again. "Do you realize how attractive you are when you worry?"

He smiled, his forehead against hers. But then Arthur called again.

"Merlin, you buffoon. Where are you?"

Merlin pushed her towards the trees, "Hush, you she- devil, go!"

She cupped her hand over her mouth laughing, as she obeyed, just in time for Arthur to come tramping into the clearing, and for Merlin to turn around with the ridiculous smile on his face.

"Where the hell were you?" The King asked irritated, and then he stopped looking around to see that Merlin was completely and utterly alone, seeming to be just as occupied. He gave him the look. The look he always gave when he was doubting his sanity.

"I… Was… Picking herbs" he said, barely remembering his own story.

Arthur looked at him, raising one eyebrow.

Merlin's palms began to sweat as he tried to recall the conversation earlier. "I told you I would be gone all day!"

Arthur stepped toward him, surveying him as though he were a piece of armor that needed appraising. "All right then," he said, playing along "where's the basket?"

"B-basket?"

"Yes," he said emphatically, "the basket you use for herb picking."

The King's eyes bored into him like lancepoles. "I… I don't know, sire."

There was a small laugh from the bushes, and thankfully Arthur didn't seem to notice. He continued looking Merlin up and down, as though he were a moment of silence:

"Where's your scarf by the way?"

The question caught Merlin by surprise, and he looked down. Sure enough, the red neckerchief was missing. Freya, you little—." But he was distracted from his thoughts by a sudden rustling and looked up in horror as Arthur went toward the trees, his arm outstretched moving the branches.

"Arthur, no!—" But he suddenly stopped, utterly amazed, for the woman Arthur pulled out of the bushes certainly was not, or at least did not look like Freya at all.

Laughing and being pulled by the arm, a beautiful blonde and blue-eyed girl was dragged out into the clearing, wearing a dress that showed far too much, and even more embarrassingly, Merlin's scarf around her waist.

"What is the meaning of this?" Said Arthur, shaking her at him like she was a forbidden animal. He was truly angry, but Merlin could not help but smile as the now flaxen Freya, crumbled into his arms laughing hysterically.

"You think this is funny , do you?" His face grew redder, but Freya could not stop laughing, and Merlin was trying to hold back snickers of his own. Arthur, however, continued on his tirade, pacing back and forth, gesturing and shouting.

"My man servant, on the day of the knighting ceremony—" he paused, glaring at Merlin, becoming more enraged by Freya's giggles. "Lying to me in order to gallop off to the woods to have— who knows what with this—" he glanced at Freya again, who was practically falling all over Merlin, unable to stand up any longer. Merlin, having heard one too many laughs from her suddenly burst out in drunken guffaws, barely noticing Arthur as he reached the end of his rope.

"You will pay dearly for this!" Arthur said as he stomped out of the clearing, but neither of the lovers heard him, for they were beside themselves.

"Do you— ha ha— realize how this is going to make me look?"

Freya laughed, looking up at him, barely able to breathe, "as far as I'm concerned, his face was well worth any price!"

"Maybe for you!" He helped her stand up straight and pulled her closer, her façade melting away to her normal self.

"You're really clever, you know that right?"

She placed her hands on his shoulders as her laughter subsided, "I learned from the best." They kissed again, knowing full well they would remember this for days to come.