A/N: Just a quick warning for this chapter: I have never written such mushy, indulgent romantic fluff for any other story in my life. So I suppose you could label this as the 'hyper-Freylin' chapter. Sorry if you choke on the sap.

Although Merlin wasn't sure it was an entirely good idea, Arthur called a meeting of the Round Table – its first secret meeting, started as an inconspicuous training exercise but held in some of the below-ground barracks where they could speak privately. The barracks were stale, foul-smelling quarters, cramped, and of course there was no actual round table present. Still, all the knights assumed solemn demeanors as they waited for an explanation from Arthur. Their king remained silent until a door creaked, and Merlin let himself in and sat down on a bench next to Elyan.

"You know what this is about?" The knight whispered to him. Merlin didn't answer, but nodded at Arthur, who took Merlin's arrival as a cue, and proceeded to brief the company on the situation with Valas and Freya. He said it all incredibly frankly, sparing Merlin's personal details and outlining the entire scenario in the same way he would outline a battle. Still, Merlin's blossoming relationship with Lady Freya was common knowledge to all of the knights. They sent him concerned and sympathetic glances as Arthur spoke. Merlin felt gratitude toward them, but couldn't meet their eyes.

Of course, when it came time for Merlin to present his possible solution to the problem, he wasn't met with ready agreement. He'd expected such a reaction. He knew knights hated waiting for anything.

"Wait?" He could've predicted that Gwaine would be the first to speak, "All that time? While Valas is plotting to kill you? Under our watch? Why not just kill the bastard now so we don't have to worry about your murder at all?" A few of the knights nodded at Gwaine and looked at Merlin for a reply.

"It's not so simple," He told them, "If we kill Valas, the Sidhe will know. Their magic is annoying like that. I'm pushing it in saying that we should kill him at all, rites of life and death or no – either way, we'll have to deal with the Sidhe after they realize we've killed one of their elders. But if we're going to kill Valas and incur the wrath of Avalon, I'd rather it be for a productive cause, namely, saving Freya."

Gwaine nodded, and looked down thoughtfully. It was Leon who spoke next.

"What would you have us do in the meantime, Sir?"

Ever a man of duty and protocol, Leon had taken to calling Merlin 'Sir' a few months after he'd been inducted into the court. Only Arthur knew how much it embarrassed the former servant, but Merlin tried to stop himself. He knew Leon only meant respect.

"Watch. Wait. It is paramount that Valas not know of our awareness; the moment he finds out that we know his plans… Well, just don't let him know. And if you see any signs of suspicion against us, let Arthur or myself know immediately. We can't afford to miss a beat. The more eyes we have on Valas, the better – only, don't let him know."

"Are those your orders, Sir?" Leon again.

"They are."

Leon nodded and looked around at his colleagues, who nodded as well. Although they were all technically the same rank, Leon's seniority in Camelot and structured personality made him the default captain of the knights. He looked back up to Arthur and Merlin, and his eyes gave his superiors a sense of confidence. After a brief silence, Arthur stood and said,

"You have my thanks, men, and you have your orders. You are dismissed."

As they talked and walked out of the barracks, Gwaine hung back to say to Merlin,

"I was wondering why you've been looking so sullen with such a pretty face on your arm all the time. I'm so sorry, mate." And he looked it.

Merlin couldn't find anything to say, but nodded.

"Don't worry, Merlin, we'll sort it." He smirked as he so often did and added, "Or at least, you'll sort it. You've always sorted this kind of thing in the past; this time will be no different. I know it."

Merlin smiled at him. "Thank you, Gwaine. I hope you're right."

To Merlin's surprise, his friend let out a bark of laughter. "Don't be so modest, Merlin. The greatest sorcerer to have ever lived? What's a few Sidhe to you?"

"Not to me; to Freya."

Gwaine shrugged to concede a point, but pressed on, "But really Merlin, you can't possibly forgotten all these years you've spent guarding Pretty Boy's arse, can you've? You've faced far worse." He slapped a knight's version of encouragement on Merlin's shoulder. "Trust me, it'll be fine in the end, for everyone." Merlin thanked him again and smiled as he walked away.

But try as he might, Merlin couldn't really recall a time that he'd ever faced something quite like what was right in front of him.

In the days that followed their meeting, a strange feeling of conspiracy was borne within the castle. Whenever Merlin locked eyes with one of the knights, or Arthur, Gwen, or even Freya, a strange understanding clicked and relayed messages between each person, even though outwardly their faces didn't change. Once in a while, Merlin would hear a report from Leon or one of the other knights, and every time it was the same thing: 'Nothing so far. Everything seems quiet.' It was both relieving and maddening, but after the first few days, Merlin decided that he would do his best to ignore Valas altogether. The knights had an eye on him, which meant Merlin could spend his time in other pusuits.

Such as Freya.

Now that their relationship was solidly established (though still not official, Gwen would tease them) Merlin didn't feel any shame in asking Freya for otherwise unwarranted amounts of her time. They took walks, talked about all things, and once, Merlin had even tried to show her his experiments in his alchemy lab. However, when he'd ended up with soot in his face, a singed eyebrow and an over-amused druid girl giggling at his misfortune, he'd decided that perhaps it wasn't the best idea. Eventually, he invited her to his tower for dinner one evening. He recalled years ago when Arthur had been trying to impress Gwen by inviting her to dinner. He smiled at the thought of Arthur's kitchen incompetence. Unlike the king, however, Merlin had not been raised with other people making his food. He was a reasonably adept cook, and by the time Freya arrived, his quarters were filled with a sweet aroma.

They sat together and ate, smiling and talking as though Valas didn't exist, as though Freya wasn't dying, as though she had never been instructed to kill Merlin in the first place. After they'd finished their meal, he took their plates and rose to return them to the kitchen. She followed him down the stairs.

"I must say, I wasn't expecting you to be such a good cook," She told him. He cast a look of mock-hurt back at her.

"Oh? And why not?"

"Perhaps it's living among druid men all my life, but in my experience men char food more often than they cook it."

Merlin hummed as he set the dishes in the washing basin and began to clean them. "I am technically druid by descent, so I'll take the point. Still, I don't think most druids spent their time cooking for a prince. A very picky prince, mind you."

She laughed and took a plate from him to dry it. "I suppose Arthur can't cook, then?"

Merlin laughed suddenly. "No." he assured her. After he handed her the last dish to dry, she had her back turned. He took it as the perfect opportunity.

Just as she finished setting the plate on the counter, Merlin came up behind her and covered her eyes. "Merlin?" she asked somewhat uncertainly.

He smiled and thought to himself how perfectly she fit under his chin, how nice her head felt against his chest. "Hold out your hands," he told her. She did, just in front of her.

"Eorðbergan," he whispered. A small weight settled in her hands.

"What…" She asked confusedly. Smiling behind her, Merlin lifted his hands from her eyes, and she gasped in delight. She turned around to face him.

"You remembered," She smiled widely. She looked at it, then back at him. "All those years, and you remembered."

"Of course I did. I told you I would." One of his hands found hers.

She smiled and took a bite of the fruit. "Mmm," She nodded in appreciation, "I must say, this one does taste better than the rose."

He laughed at the memory, a bright smile settling onto his face. She brought her free hand up to cup his smiling cheek.

"There, you see, that's what I've missed the most." Her gaze lit on his smile, and even as it faded, her eyes stayed on his mouth. Suddenly, Merlin realized that in all the time since Freya had returned to his life, he had yet to kiss her. He thought he wanted to change that, so he leaned down and did his best.

She tasted like strawberries.

Gwen knew that Merlin and Freya were having dinner together that night, but she didn't know they'd had it in Merlin's tower, so when she passed by his quarters and heard his voice, she thought that he must have returned from his outing with Freya. Curious, she popped her head in to ask how it had gone, and was only just able to keep from gasping at the sight of Merlin and Freya standing just outside his kitchen, kissing each other.

She was terrified that they would see or hear her, that she would ruin their moment, (and embarrass them both, no doubt) but eventually, Gwen mustered up the courage to dart back out of the room, her cheeks and neck burning, leaving the two lovebirds none the wiser. She couldn't repress the smile that was spreading across her face. She was sure that, had Merlin ever taken any ladyfriend, she would have been happy for him, but after having become such good friends with Freya as well, she was positively giddy.

"Now you had better make it official," she growled quietly through a smile, "or I'll never forgive you two."

Later that evening, after Gwen happened to find (she had definitely not staked out the door to Merlin's tower) Freya walking back to her chambers, she came up beside her and threaded her arm through Freya's. The other girl jumped, but relaxed when she saw the queen.

"So," Gwen asked suggestively, "How did it go?" Gwen felt like a schoolgirl consulting her friend on a crush, but she didn't care. She regarded both Freya and Merlin far more highly than that. Still, for some reason, the fact intensified the girlish feelings she had about them both.

Freya laughed and ducked her head, trying to hide her blush. "It went well," she said quietly, "Merlin is a good cook."

"That, I knew. He's always the one to cook on long trips. Even shows me up, some of the time." She waited a moment and when Freya didn't comment further, asked: "But is he a good kisser?"

"Gwen!" Freya's face burned, and she swatted at her friend's arm. Gwen laughed despite herself.

"What? Surely he's kissed you. If he hasn't, it's a shame. You two are perfect for each other."

Freya ducked her head again. "I'm glad to hear you think so. And… yes, actually, he did kiss me, after dinner."

Gwen hoped Freya didn't somehow guess that she had seen them. How embarrassing. "And?" She prodded as only a woman could to another woman, and when Freya looked back up, she was smiling. Gwen recognized her look.

"It was… nice," She said, and Gwen watched her. "…warm. Like magic." She looked at Gwen, and the queen let out a chuckle.

"With that man, it might just have been."

They laughed and walked to Freya's rooms together. It was well past dark, and neither of them had to look at Valas' bedroom door even as they bid each other goodnight. But after Gwen had left and Freya sat alone on her bed, she remembered her reality.

Suddenly, she realized how tired she was, how sore her arms and back had become. Merlin had said that she would grow weaker, before she…

No. She refused to think of that now. For the moment, she was healthy. It had been a lovely day, she'd shared dinner with the man she loved, and gossiped about it like silly school girls with her new best friend. She looked down at the strawberry she held, one of the ones Merlin had given to her before he'd kissed her.

For now, it would be enough. She fell to sleep with a small smile on her face, a bright red strawberry resting on the nightstand beside her.

It wasn't long before Freya's weakening state became apparent to the rest of the castle.

She awoke later and later in the morning. Her walks with Gwen through the gardens became shorter. She ate less, and couldn't always muster up the strength to go to dinner. Once, Percival had to carry her up the stairs.

Gaius treated her as best he could, given the circumstances, and kept Merlin and Arthur informed as to how close he estimated she was to death. It was a morbid subject, but an important one. Merlin visited her often, sometimes simply sitting in the room with her while she dozed on a couch for a few minutes' sleep. Gwen also spent time with her, and Arthur went out of his way to make sure the queen was free from her duties whenever possible to see her friend. Her visits to Gaius' home became more frequent as the days wore on. Her condition worsened exponentially each day.

All the while, Valas played the part of concerned parent very convincingly.

"Will my daughter be alright, Gaius?" He would ask innocently.

"Is she sick?"

"Oh my poor dear Freya,"

"She needs rest."

"Thank you so much for your concern, my Lords,"

"I'm sure she'll be fine soon."

It was all enough to send Merlin's blood boiling, but he was able to keep himself in check. It was actually Gwaine who was readiest to clobber the man. Overfond of women as he may have been, Gwaine was a loyal man at heart, and after it became clear that Freya's affections belonged to Merlin alone, Gwaine not only cut off his own advances, but took up an unspoken oath to protect the two at all costs.

"It won't do to seethe, Gwaine," Merlin told him quietly after Valas had come into Gaius' chambers to fret over his 'daughter'. "Remember orders."

Gwaine sighed deeply through his nose, but nodded. "I'm going for a drink. Tell me if you need a sword in that man's skull." He sulked off, boots thumping loudly against the floorboards.

Merlin turned to look at Freya, who was sleeping in the bedroom that used to be Merlin's, one that Gaius had converted into a patient room in Merlin's absence. "How long does she have?" He asked his old mentor.

"It's hard to say. The symptoms are progressing so quickly… I've never studied someone under such an enchantment." He shrugged. "But if she goes on like this, I don't believe she'll last through the week. If you're going to move, Merlin, you'd best do it quickly."

Merlin nodded silently, and Gaius watched him for a moment before asking,

"Do you think it will work, Merlin?"

"I did it once," He said, still looking down at Freya, "I can do it again." I hope. The last words were unspoken, but Gaius knew his ward well and seemed to hear his thoughts.

"I know you can, my boy." The room was silent for a while, and Gaius pulled up a chair beside Freya's bedside to put an aromatic poultice by her face, which he hoped might breathe some temporary strength into her. He looked at Merlin and felt as though he should give the warlock something else to occupy his thoughts.

"After this is all over, Merlin, when the two of you are both safe," he decided to put the end of the predicament in definite terms, "do you intend to pursue courtship with Freya?"

Merlin nodded after a moment. "I would."

Gaius turned fully to his former apprentice. "And marriage?"

Merlin blushed. "I had thought of it," he said.

Gaius smiled slightly, and nodded as he turned back to Freya. "If you hadn't, I might have had to inspect your head." Merlin laughed behind him, and Gaius felt good to have made him smile. "You two will both have my blessing, of course. Although," he turned back to Merlin, "You might want to mention it to your mother first. Not to mention Freya herself."

Merlin chuckled again, but it died away quickly. "Of course. If we ever get the chance."

If.

Gaius sighed and rose from his seat. Merlin watched him with a pleading gaze, a look begging for an answer, any answer, like he used to when he was still a naive boy from Ealdor.

"Merlin," Gaius said, and put a hand on either of Merlin's shoulders. "Son," He amended kindly, and Merlin looked touched and surprised. Gaius had never called him that before. "I believe that you will find a way to end this well. We all have faith in you. Perhaps it's time you had a little faith in yourself." Merlin looked unconvinced, but he couldn't find any words to voice his protest. Gaius seemed to read it in his eyes, but didn't say another word. Instead, he pulled Merlin into a gentle, fatherly hug, and the tall sorcerer suddenly felt like a young boy again, holding onto his parent for support and comfort. He hugged Gaius back and wanted to hear him say that everything was going to be alright. But he didn't. He only hugged him.

"I have every confidence in you, Merlin," Gaius pulled away, and smiled. "You saved this sorry old man, after all. I think you can spare to save a beautiful young lady like Freya."

Merlin smiled and shook his head at Gaius' self-deprecation, but didn't say anything. Eventually, Gaius patted the taller man on the shoulder.

"It's getting late. I'll watch over her until morning. You should sleep."

Merlin nodded halfheartedly and cast one last look at Freya's sleeping form before turning back toward his tower. Tomorrow, he would make his move and put an end to it all. Tomorrow, he would see if he really did have the power over life and death. Tomorrow, he would kill Valas, incur the wrath of the Sidhe, and save Freya's life and his own.

As he crawled into bed that night, he didn't know that he would never get the chance.