Chapter 19

Warning/s:

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

A/N: I think this is terrible but oh well. Sorry for this chapter coming up a bit late but I went on a bike ride with my friend a couple of days ago, fell into a bramble bush and I've been resigned to bed rest for ages! (And when I say I fell into a bramble bush, I mean that I went in one end, through it, out the other, and broke my ankle in the process.) Please leave me a review to let me know what you think of this chapter!

Prompt: ruapilot2: "Arthur and his knights go to investigate reports of sinister floating lights luring people off to their deaths. After they arrive, Merlin falls victim to the lights. The knights of Camelot have to spend the whole night trying to prevent their friend from running off to his death. While he is under the spell Merlin desperately trying to get to someone he calls Freya. While under the spell he spends the whole time alternately calling out to her, raging at them for making him loose her again, begging them to let him go to her, apologizing to Freya, and simply crying. When morning dawns everyone is exhausted and no one says a word about Merlin's Freya. They had learned all they needed to know about her during the night. Merlin barely says a word all the way back to Camelot."

"Please, Your Majesty," the farmer stammered. "This sounds absurd, I know, but – it is truly happening, and I do not know a way to stop it."

"Go ahead," Arthur said kindly. He was used to having his citizens who were overwhelmed in front of the King and the many members of the court, and he tried to encourage them gently when he could. "However strange, I have no doubt seen and heard stranger." The comment earned him a rippled chuckle from around the court.

"Well, Sire, the thing is…recently at night, people have been seeing these floating lights. Myself among them. We had no idea what they were, of course, but then…" The man hesitated, obviously about to reach the part of the story that he considered unbelievable. Arthur nodded his head to show him that he could continue. "Some people started following the lights," the farmer blurted. "And they never came back. We heard horrible screams so we did not dare follow. But we did manage to stop one lad, and he said that he was drawn to the lights because they had his dead wife." The farmer swallowed. "We're confused by them, Sire, and we suspect magic is involved. We just…we're out of our depth, and it is getting harder and harder to stop our friends from walking to the lights."

Arthur leaned back in his wooden throne. This was by far one of the more interesting cases he'd heard of. "You say that only some people are attracted to the lights?" he queried, just to be sure.

"Yes, Sire. We looked for a connection but we could not find one."

"Thank you for talking so honestly. Have any of you remained at the village?"

The farmer shook his head definitively. "No, Sire. We all came here to talk to you. All of those that are left, that is." He swallowed, and Arthur felt a pang of sympathy; he had seen how in a small community, like in Ealdor, everyone was close to each other and losses were not just suffered by the family.

"I will see that you are all given shelter and food," Arthur promised. "For while we investigate at least and, if the problem cannot be solved, for as long as you live."

Arthur thought the old man might have cried if he was not in front of so many people. The last time he had seen someone so touched was when he had given Merlin the day off because his mother wasn't well and he could barely focus on work due to the worry.

The man shuffled backwards, bowing, and Arthur nodded to a few of his knights to accompany the man and the other villagers to new homes and make sure they were fed. "The council is dismissed for today," he announced, and the various Lords and Ladies scattered. The only ones who stayed were Merlin and his most trusted Knights of the Round Table.

"I think it goes without saying that we need to venture out there," Arthur said lowly. "And I think we should go as soon as we are able to; I want to find out what on earth is happening in that village. Is an hour long enough to prepare for such a journey?" At the murmured and nodded agreements, Arthur continued, "Pack enough for two weeks, just in case. We do not know how long we will be there for."

The group split, Merlin staying with Arthur as the king was lost in his own thoughts. "Are you alright, Arthur?" Merlin asked quietly, knowing that the king was not always in the mood to be disturbed when thinking so deeply.

"I am just wondering what the linking factor between those victims is," Arthur replied, starting to walk from the Great Hall. "I would have thought anything obvious would have been spotted by the farmer or other villagers."

"Perhaps there is no linking factor," Merlin suggested. "Perhaps it is just random – or maybe it is down to who sees the light first. It could be anything, Sire, magic is not always a logical thing."

"I suppose you are right sometimes," Arthur said condescendingly. "Now, pack my bags would you? And make sure you take enough for yourself – if you need anything extra, don't be afraid to take it from my supplies." Merlin was touched by that last remark – it stemmed from their last venture out when Arthur had discovered that Merlin possessed neither a blanket nor a thick enough coat to keep him adequately warm.

"Thank you, Arthur." Merlin said it softly enough so that Arthur could pretend not to hear, which he did.

"I wonder what the victims have in common," Leon wondered aloud as they were trotting along a shaded forest path. "The farmer said there was nothing, but there must be something."

"Funny you should say that – Merlin and I were discussing the same thing earlier," Arthur said in reply. "Merlin thinks that it could be something to do with whoever sees the lights first, or maybe it is even completely random. What did you say about magic, Merlin?"

"It's not always completely logical," Merlin shouted from the back. And he should know, after all; he had to deal with the fickle thing day in day out.

Merlin tuned out of the conversation for the rest of the journey, trying to figure out for himself what the lights could be. He was only brought back to reality when he realised the others were bringing their horses to a halt by the entrance to a small but cosy-looking village.

"Here we are," Arthur announced. "It looks fairly normal to me."

"It's still daytime," Elyan pointed out, dismounting and scanning the village.

Merlin did the same and was immediately hit by a wave of nauseous discomfort. There was something not right about this village, and it punched him in the gut harshly. He wondered whether any of the others were feeling the same thing, but decided not to broach the topic. They would bring it up if they felt it, and it could be due to his magic, which he definitely did not want to attract attention to.

"I say we make camp in that barn," Arthur said, pointing towards a fairly large red building. "That way we are sheltered but also we can look over a lot of the village." The other knights murmured in agreement, and Merlin swallowed the unease that had risen up in his stomach.

They led their horses along to the barn in an unusual silence; Merlin thought for a second that maybe they felt the same odd queasiness, but soon Gwaine broke the silence with, "Why is nobody talking?" and that was the end of that.

A few hours later, the group was sitting around a fire they had made and laughing with each other. Arthur couldn't help glancing over at Merlin every few seconds though – he was not joining in with the usual chatter and joking, and seemed rather pale and distant, worried almost.

Arthur was about to say something when Merlin stood up. "I'm going to get some more firewood," he said quietly. "The fire's almost died down."

The knights glanced to the centre of their circle in surprise; the fire was indeed dying down and none of them had noticed. "Be careful," Arthur warned. "Don't follow any lights. Gwaine, could you-"

Merlin smiled tightly. "I don't need a babysitter, Arthur."

He walked out of the barn quickly and sucked in the cool air. Evening was falling now and the night was steadily approaching with a darkening sky. He hurried towards the woods to collect more firewood and told himself that he was being ridiculous. He was probably just feeling sick because of his magic.

"I wonder," Percival began, and then stopped abruptly. "No, forget it."

"What is it, Percival?" Arthur asked curiously.

"I was just thinking…" the tall man said slowly. "The thing that connects all of the people who went to the knights; could it be love? I mean, the farmer said that the only man they were able to stop had seen his dead wife in the lights and wanted to join her, so maybe it attracts those who have lost their loved ones."

"Percival, you're a genius!" Gwaine exclaimed. "That's got to be it!"

"It fits," Arthur agreed thoughtfully. "Has anyone here lost anyone they loved, other than family?"

Everyone shook their heads, and Gwaine asked, "What about Merlin?"

Arthur paused for a second. "I don't know. I wouldn't think so," he said honestly. "Ever since Merlin came to Camelot, at least, he has never been sad for more than a day at a time, and even then it is not such a deep sadness."

"Then we are all safe," Gwaine said merrily, and began to pull his boots off. "Time to relax."

By the time Merlin had returned, the conversation had moved on to the topic of Gwaine's socks and how they could make a grown man retch, and nobody remembered to ask Merlin the vital question or tell him of the discovery they had made.

"We'll take shifts all night," Arthur said when men started to yawn. "In pairs at least."

Merlin nodded. "I'll take the first shift; I'm not tired yet."

"And I will," Arthur said as well. "The rest of you, get some sleep. We will wake you in two hours or so."

Merlin stared out at the lights. They were so beautiful and so intoxicating: they were whispering to him, promising that if he came to them, he would be reunited with Freya. He could see them even through the closed doors of the barn, they were so bright. He stood up, heading towards the doors. He was going to welcome the lights and let himself be with Freya again.

"Merlin, what are you doing?" Arthur asked in alarm.

"I'm going to the lights," Merlin said dreamily. "They're so beautiful, Arthur, can't you see them?"

"Oh Gods," Arthur muttered. He leapt forward and grabbed Merlin by the arm, ignoring his struggles. "Wake up!" he yelled to the sleeping knights.

"What's up?" Gwaine asked in surprise.

"Merlin's trying to get to the lights," Arthur said grimly, watching as his men's faces fell. They all cursed, some loudly (Gwaine), others under their breath (Leon) and rushed forward to help him restrain Merlin.

Leon took one of his arms, Percival the other, and together they pulled Merlin backwards.

"Come on," Leon coaxed, doing his best to fight against Merlin trying to push forwards. "You can go to the lights later."

"I need to go to them now," Merlin insisted. "I won't be able to see Freya if I don't."

The knights exchanged uneasy glances. They had never heard of anyone called Freya before, and if they knew nothing about her, it would be harder to stop Merlin.

"She'll still be there in the morning," Gwaine said reassuringly, but Merlin only shook his head adamantly.

"No! You don't understand. Freya died a long time ago and this is my only chance to bring her back to this world."

"That won't happen," Arthur said as gently as he was able to. "You'll die."

To all of their surprise, Merlin burst into noisy sobs and curled up in a ball on the barn floor. Percival kept his hand clamped on Merlin's arm just in case, but running seemed to be far from the manservant's mind.

"It's all my fault," he wept, not talking to anyone in particular. "I should have saved her."

Percival glanced over at them for help. He looked totally lost about what to do, but even as Elyan opened his mouth to comfort Merlin, his mood changed and he was back to raging and straining to get out.

"You have to let me go to her!" he pleaded, running even though he could not move anywhere. "I let her down and now she will know that I did not mean to."

"She will know that anyway, Merlin," Arthur said sharply. If there was one thing he was not allowing to happen tonight, it was for his friend to be carried away by odd lights.

"If only I had never come to Camelot, this would never have happened," Merlin muttered, pulling at his hair. "This is all my fault – no, your fault – no, my fault – no, everyone's fault."

And so the cycle repeated until morning; he would go through the different emotions over and over again, try to escape, and the knights would have to try with their greatest efforts to stop him from running off. Once or twice he managed to nearly get to the barn doors, but there was always someone to stop him.

When morning dawned, Merlin finally slumped to the floor. The knights all breathed a sigh of relief, and Arthur rushed to his side to check he was alright. Then he slumped down next to him, exhaustion finally defeating him.

When the time came to saddle up the horses and ride back to Camelot – it was an unspoken agreement that they should return – nobody said a word to Merlin. It was not that they did not respect him now, or that they thought he was odd; he just seemed to be in his own, broken world, and none of them wanted to disturb it.

They had learned everything they needed to know about Freya last night, and probably more as well. The loss that Merlin had gone through had shocked them all, and the many looks that were exchanged between them said everything they needed to. Be kind to Merlin, support him, because how was he meant to carry that burden for any longer after the horror of last night?

Merlin only spoke two words on the ride back to Camelot. The knights made light talk amongst themselves, nobody wanting to breach a subject too serious, when Merlin suddenly said, "Thank you," and that was that.

Privately, every knight thought that it should be them thanking him, for his selflessness.

A/N: Any ideas for new chapters? Please let me know!