He shouldn't have been surprised, something told him. Everything she'd been saying had led up to it. Somehow, it made sense. Still, it didn't keep the chill from racing down his spine. Here, sitting right next to him, was a woman sent specifically to murder him.

He had never wanted to hold her more, but he had to understand.

"Why you? Why does it have to be you?" He took her hand and was surprised when she let him. His unwavering voice despite her confession seemed to give Freya courage. She swallowed and told him,

"I-I don't understand completely. Valas is after your power, Merlin. He said that once… Once you are dead, your magic will be released. Normally, it would fade back into the earth, but Valas said… Said that your magic would defer to me. Because you gave part of it to me, to save me. If you die, the magic that you gave me will attract your own, and… And I will have your power." She blinked and frowned. The idea repulsed her.

"Like two magnets," Merlin mused to himself.

"Just like," Freya said. He looked up at her, a confused twist in his eyebrows.

"But… I don't understand – if you would absorb my magic simply because I were to die, then why is it so important that you are the one to kill me?"

Freya shook her head. "I don't know. I really don't know, Merlin." Her eyes were full of tears again. "He won't tell me. I thought he would have forced me by now, but he says that we… have to wait for the right time."

"Wait? Wait for what?"

She looked scared again. "Merlin, I… I can't stay here long."

He brushed her knuckles reassuringly. "Valas isn't anywhere in sight, it's-"

"No," She broke him off, "No, I mean here, in Camelot. I can't stay in Camelot long. The enchantment won't let me."

Merlin paused before he muttered bewilderedly, "Enchantment…"

"Merlin," Freya said, her voice soft enough to make him look up, "Don't you think that if I could come to Camelot under my own power, I would have done so years ago?"

"I would've hoped so," he had to say. And miraculously, it made her smile. It faded quickly.

"Of course I would've. But I couldn't. Can't. I can only live under my own power in the Lake. It's a place of magic that nurtures the second chance your magic gave me. To bring me here, Valas and the other Sidhe elders cast an enchantment on me, to temporarily keep me alive outside Avalon. But it won't last forever. Every day, it grows weaker, and sooner or later, it'll wear off and I'll…" She stopped there, hoping he would understand without having to have her finish. He did, and squeezed her wrists.

"I won't let that happen."

"Merlin, you can't…" She began to tear up again, her inhibition slackened by the fact that she'd been crying not moments ago, "You can't… I'm meant to kill you, Merlin, you can't possibly promise my own safety when you are the one whose life is in-"

"No, I'm not going to let any of it happen. Not my death, not yours. We'll find a way, I promise, Freya."

"Merlin, you-"

A loud noise made both of them look back toward the castle. They could see two figures in the distance, but were unable to make out who they were until an over-loud voice floated to them,

"Valas! Leaving so soon? Pudding is about to be served, I thought you might like to try…" It sounded as though Arthur was still desperately trying to keep Valas away, but the bristled lord waved the king away with a mutter and continued into the courtyard. Freya's hand was on Merlin wrist, gripping hard.

"He knows. He always finds me, I don't know how… by magic… Merlin, you have to leave."

"No, Freya, I-"

"Go!" She shooed him, "I can take care of him myself, it'll be fine." He didn't doubt her, but still didn't budge from his seat.

"Neither of us are going to die," he was ignoring the approaching lord.

"Merlin," Her voice begged him to listen to her, but he kept speaking,

"Freya, you remember all those years ago, when I promised that I would look after you?"

That made her pause. She nodded. How could she not?

"I broke that promise, I broke it horribly. But I don't intend to do that ever again." He dropped her hands and put his on either side of her face. She stopped talking and looked at him. Later on, she would wonder how one pair of eyes could look so kind and so frightening at the same time. "Neither of us are going to die, Freya. I promise."

They looked at each other for a tense second before Merlin glanced at Valas, who was closer. He looked back at Freya with concern and love all over his face, and for a moment, she thought he might kiss her, but he simply brought his hands down to her shoulders, gave a quick squeeze, and left, quickly and quietly.

"Freya? Is that you?" It was Valas. He couldn't see her yet.

She sniffed back the remaining tears and readied the excuse she'd thought up a second before. "Yes, it's me."

"I hope you two enjoyed your little chat, because I have officially made myself out to be the most irritating king in Albion's history, all for you." Arthur had expected Merlin to immediately comeback with a retort about him already being irritating, so when he didn't, the king frowned. "Merlin, you alright?"

And for perhaps the first time in their friendship, Merlin didn't bother hiding it. "No. No, I'm not. I think I'll head back to my rooms, if it's all the same to you?" He said, rubbing his temples and looking everywhere but at Arthur.

"You don't have to ask permission, Merlin…" Arthur trailed, scanning his friend's troubled face worriedly. "What happened back there?" He leaned in so no one else would hear, "What did she say?"

Merlin shook his head. "Later. Get Gwen and come to my tower after the party, I'll try and explain."

He'd gone before Arthur could say anything else, and the king couldn't seem force the smile back onto his face after that. He turned back to the party and wondered when it'd be over.

Freya couldn't hide her tears before Valas arrived, so she crafted her story around them. Of course, he took one look at her face and knew she'd been crying.

"What are you doing? What's happened?" he demanded.

"You've happened, that's what!" She didn't have to make up the anger in her voice, "You… you… monster!" She rose from the bench she'd been sitting at, but still had to look up at him to meet his eyes.

"I see you've learnt no restraint over your tongue, still," He said annoyed, "Yet I still wonder what has brought this particular mood on. Why on earth have you been crying?"

And partially because she'd already been crying and partially because he was so utterly unfeeling, Freya found her eyes clouded by tears again. "How could you," he voice shook, "how could you bring me here, let me go to parties, see him all night, watch him smile and dance and be so nice me and everyone, and then later expect me to… to…" She didn't finish.

"To what? To kill Emrys? You know, I never thought you'd be this attached to him. From what you've told us before, you barely knew him. Why, you didn't even know he was Emrys until years later."

"He saved me."

"We saved you, witch. You'd do best to remember it. Our lake and our magic has kept you alive all these years – you'll notice that Emrys is here, and yet, it is still our enchantment that lets you breathe. He couldn't save you if he wanted to."

"He already did. He did that years ago, before you, before the lake, before I was near death, he saved me." Freya was angry.

Valas laughed. "You truly are a silly maid like the rest, aren't you?"

"He loves me."

"Perhaps he did, once, but here we are now, and he's hardly spoken to you."

"That doesn' t matter."

Valas scoffed at her. "You're going to let your infatuation with him trick you into thinking he is your savior, aren't you?"

"No," She hissed at him, sticking her nose up in his face, "Merlin is not my savior; not my only one. I'm not infatuated with him, I love him, because he made a promise to me back then, and he's not gone back on his word, not once." She looked Valas up and down with distain. "More than I can say for you."

Valas' eyes flashed with anger. Their voices were rising in volume. "Emrys may love you, and you him, but it will never keep you from seeing his fate through to the end."

"I won't."

"Oh, I think you will. Emrys is strong, but not stronger than the Sidhe,"

"Merlin is a stronger man than you could ever pretend to be." She didn't apologize for the angry spittle that hit him in the face. He raised his hand sharply, and she winced. When the blow didn't come, she looked up to see his hand in her face.

"I see I cannot beat down your passion, an opportunity that I daresay I would enjoy having. I am not ignorant of the fact that my past… actions have brought me under suspicion by the Physician, Gaius. Because I cannot punish you for deluding yourself over your precious Emrys, I will allow you to see him as often as you wish. Don't blame me when it hurts – the closer you get, the more painful it will be." He lowered himself so that they were looking eye to eye, barely an inch between their noses.

"But if you tell Emrys anything of why we are here, if he so much as thinks he's heard of your purpose, I will find out about it. And believe me when I tell you the consequences will be more painful than the feel of his blood on your hands."

Valas turned and left, whipping his robe back to sting her as he went.

Freya remained where she stood, lips thin and eyes hardened, the only emotion in her face leaking out through her drying tears. Although her heart was breaking, deep beneath the ruins there was a growing kindle of defiance that allowed her to glare at Valas' retreating form without fear of punishment.

Catch us if you can.

It was the wee hours of the morning before they were able to meet, and despite the fact that there was no one close enough to Merlin's quarters to hear them, the trio spoke in whispers. He'd spent the evening clearing his thoughts, taking Freya's tear-ridden explanation and ironing it out into a logical briefing that he could present to Arthur and Gwen. Still, when he spoke, he couldn't dispel the image of her from his head, and the pain for her showed through in his voice. The king and queen had been very quiet as they listened, attentive and open.

When Merlin finished, they all sat back in their seats quietly, each wrapped up in their own thoughts. Merlin had his index finger poised over his mouth in thought as he played with the day-old scruff on his chin. He still didn't understand it all. Why would Valas want to use her? Why not just kill Merlin himself? Why go to all the trouble of pretending to be nobility? Why the waiting? It was a puzzle that he couldn't unravel. He glanced at the tall bookshelves lining his tower, and wondered if they held the answer somewhere.

Gwen was watching the fire pop, the orange light casting harsh shadows where her brows came over her eyes in an intense expression. She'd become very fond of Freya in their time together, and couldn't imagine such a sweet soul charged to murder someone – of all people, Merlin, the man she loved. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what she could do, or what Merlin might plan. But she knew that she would help. It was then that she realized that she no longer cared about Freya merely for Merlin's sake, but for her own friendship as well.

Beside her, Arthur was torn. The calmer, more subdued part of him that dealt with feelings ached deeply for Merlin. He couldn't imagine what the man must've been going through, learning that his true love might attempt to kill him against her will. Freya herself must've been terrified, he thought. But then, there was a much larger portion of Arthur's mind, one that made him fidget discontentedly and sigh, that demanded an immediate solution. Arthur had always been a man of action, determined to fix problems and present solutions to potential threats – usually with the point of a sword. But he knew instinctively that this would be different. Magic was a tool of subtlety and mystery. He'd told Merlin days before that he was an idiot when it came to magic, and he'd been telling the truth. He knew he was entirely out of his element, that he'd only partially understood the logic of Merlin's relayed explanation, but there was still an insistent little tapping in his mind saying, "fix it!". He wasn't sure if he should listen to his gut and jump to action, or wait for Merlin to come up with a plan. It was an odd thought for him, Merlin planning it all out. He'd become fond of taking Merlin's advice on things, but had never before let the other man plan something out entirely. He wasn't sure if he could muster himself to hand over the reins. Or, rather, if he should.

In his chair, Merlin shivered and drew in on himself. Gwen saw it and, in her intense thoughts and stress, defaulted to mothering mode.

"I'll go make some tea," She said quietly, and before she left, brought Merlin a blanket. He thanked her with the closest thing to a smile that he could manage. He wrapped it around his shoulders like a cloak, and brought it up close to his face. It cast strange shadows against the firelight that obscured his expression.

While Gwen was away, Arthur felt he could speak to Merlin as a man.

"You promised her you'd sort this, didn't you?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes." It may have sounded simple, but both Arthur and Merlin knew that promises were serious matters for men like themselves, nigh sacred between them and the women they loved. Arthur regarded Merlin carefully.

"And are you sure you can keep that promise, Merlin?"

"I'll have to, won't I?" Thanks to the blanket, Arthur still couldn't see his face very well. He sighed.

"But… If it comes down to it, Merlin, what will you do?"

For a long minute, the only sound was the sound of the crackling fire. A log shifted and sparks flew. At length, Merlin turned to look at his longtime friend, and Arthur could just make out his eyes and the confusion in them.

"I don't know."

Gwen's footsteps sounded on the stairs, and she arrived with a tray of tea for them all. After passing the cups around, she sat back down next to Arthur. The three remained silent until Gwen asked,

"Did she say how long the enchantment would last?" She sounded like she wanted the silence to end. Merlin didn't blame her.

"No. I've never had to use a spell like that, but… I've read of something like it – they're very subjective. There's no real way of telling. Only Valas would know how long it will last."

"Is there any way to tell?" Gwen fiddled with her teacup. Merlin sighed.

"No. It's a waiting game. As it runs its course, Freya will get weaker. The weaker she gets, the closer the enchantment is to ending. When it's near to ending…"

"That's when you think Valas will… strike?" Arthur asked.

Merlin only nodded.

"She seems plenty strong to me," Gwen said hopefully. Merlin agreed.

"She is. Which means we've got a while before it starts to wear off."

No one spoke for a few minutes. No one noticed that their tea was going cold until later. Eventually, Arthur asked,

"So what do we do, Merlin?"

Merlin didn't seem any more pleased with the answer than Arthur was. "We wait. I'm going to do some research, see if I can figure out what Valas has planned. In the meantime…" His face slackened, and he sighed tiredly. "In the meantime, I need you to help me keep an eye on Valas. And Freya," he added in a mutter, "especially Freya."

The royals nodded and murmured their agreement, before eventually leaving of their own accord. Merlin only noticed when Gwen stopped to lay an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "Just let us know what we need to do," she'd told him quietly. He thought he should respond , but in the end he merely sat there, staring into the dying fire up to his eyes in thought.

He'd gotten into hundreds of scrapes with death in his lifetime, but never before at the hands of an innocent, never before at the hands of someone he loved so dearly. It was a delicate situation, and frankly, Merlin hadn't the slightest inclination of what he would do.

It was a frightening feeling.