Frost.

(A warning that this chapter is psychologically dark towards the end.)

'Can I call you back?'

'Why?'

'I'll— We will. We'll figure this out. Together. I just have to call you back,' Merlin said and ended the call. Nix kept quiet and still in front of the open wardrobe. 'What are you doing here?'

'If you know the person or location well enough you can travel to them. You sounded upset, quite distraught actually, so I thought I would come over. Was I wrong to?'

Merlin headed over to the light switch quickly, flicked it on, and faced him from the closed door.

'Yes,' he snapped and scoffed. 'You can't just Vanish wherever you want to without telling the person first.'

'Vanish?'

'That's what- That's what I call it. You know, travelling from one location to another in an instant.'

'Rather poetic,' Nix said, smiling. 'Are you on your own here? No one should be alone on Christmas.'

Merlin wished he hadn't hung up on Arthur. He crossed his arm, hand wrapped tightly around the mobile phone.

'I'm fine so you can leave.'

Nix walked towards him. 'You're not. Let me help.'

'How can you help? Talking?' Merlin asked, the hostility slipping out in a bite with each word.

'Talking,' he confirmed gently. He stopped approaching with five feet left between them. 'Why are you scared?'

Merlin watched him, too aware of his own exhaustion, of the strange electricity in the air. 'Right now you're the one putting me on edge.'

'I would never hurt you, Merlin,' he said. Merlin scoffed at that. It was cliché, too easily a lie, and sounded far too sincere to be trustworthy. Why had he called him? 'I'm here to listen and help if I can. That's what I promised you last night. We need to stick together.'

'You can't help me.'

'Maybe I can't. I'd still like to try. Are your friends alright?'

'They're great.'

'And you're in a relationship with the blonde one?'

Merlin tried to stay calm. 'Why does it matter?'

'I'm curious, that's all. I brought you something in case you found this too invasive which you evidently do,' Nix said and pulled a pouch out of his trouser pocket. 'You know the mythology of the Fates?'

'Why?'

'It's said that they rule over the past, present, and future. Fate, essentially. The three who spin, measure, and cut the length of a man's life. The threads which gods could spin not just for life, but for events in the person's life, creating bonds and knots for each moment of joy, destruction, luck, and so on.'

'Why does any of that matter? I don't subscribe to myths.'

'Don't you? It matters because the art of magic, properly used, can break those bonds. The Gods, the Fates, may be stories and nothing else, but life isn't a story. If magic exists in this reality, then perhaps the threads do too. It's my belief that each of us has an individual thread and that having magic means we have some of the power held by the Fates and Gods. The ability to harm, to shape, and to change lives, our own or other people's.'

'I'm not religious.'

'Neither am I, darling. Now, I can't remember the quote directly, but the greek poet Pindar wrote that a man's life is a day. That man is the dream of a shadow. Shadow unifies us all, connects us through time, and is just as fleeting and eternal as life. I'm telling you this because I want you to understand that we are all connected, that our lives are a gift, and that our powers share parts of themselves with the legends of gods, of the Fates. That is no small thing.'

'Is that all?'

'This,' he lifted up the small packet of white powder, 'is Chronos.'

'You really like mythology.'

Nix smiled wryly. 'I find it inspiring and comforting.'

'It's a drug of some kind?'

'Yes.'

Great. Just what a Detective Sergeant needed in his bedroom. 'What does it do?'

'Depends on the user. It's called Chronos because of its effects on time. It removes it.'

'It removes time?'

'You can heat it up and inject it, but the best results comes from smoking. As a Metropolitan detective I assumed you wouldn't have one of these so I brought one,' he explained and pulled out a small glass round-based bong.

Merlin let out an exasperated sigh. 'You've got to be joking. I don't want your drugs.'

'Not yet,' he said and dropped them both onto the bed. 'Now,' he paused and closed the space between them. Merlin lifted his hand but Nix kept going until he had to actively push back against his chest. 'You're not well.'

'I'll be better when you leave,' Merlin told him, heartbeat in his ears with his back now pressed against the door, hand still awkwardly stopping Nix's approach.

'Your magic is spent. You said it yourself.'

'I work with the Metropolitan Police. I don't need magic.'

'For your particular illness, you do.'

'I'm not ill.'

'You're eyes give you away, Merlin,' Nix continued softly and raised a hand. 'It's more than just fatigue. Your magic is itself worn out. A small cantrip and you'll feel better. Stronger.'

'I'm not a fan of people using magic on me. It rarely ends well for them,' he said, trying his best to channel the aimless resentment wrapped up in his chest.

'I promised I wouldn't hurt you, darling,' Nix went on and white light sparked at the tips of his fingers, arching across and connecting like a web over his whole palm. 'Trust me.'

Merlin made to move away but Nix planted an arm in his way caging him in. 'No.'

'One second and you'll feel better,' he said and moved the shining web-covered hand closer. Merlin tensed, jaw clenched, and balled up his fists.

'Move any closer and you'll regret it. I can break your nose or arm first. Up to you,' he warned. It was a lie. He knew how to, he'd done it before on duty, but his body was sapped of everything. Staying awake at that point took all his strength. Nix pushed the hand towards his face too fast, too strong to stop him even when he grabbed the arm. The palm locked against the right side of his face. Shivers coursed through his head, hot and cold, shooting down through his teeth, jaw, and skull, until they cooled and dripped around every nerve.

Merlin sucked in his breath through his teeth. He watched Nix's eyes glow for a moment before they darkened again and the weight in his bones lifted. The deep aching melted away and he felt normal again. Light, unburdened, even a little warmer.

'See?' Nix said, hand brushing down his face as he pulled it back.

Merlin blinked away the burning in his eyes. 'Don't ever do that again.'

'If you insist.'

'Leave. Get out right now.'

'You should know that I've never met a man so close to the dream. Most are less than shadows, but you,' he paused. 'Your magic, your— You have a strength, a hope, Merlin, inside you that's just so bright. So colourful. Don't underestimate yourself. You might just be the dream we all aspire to wake into.'

'That doesn't make any sense,' he said, breathing gentler, easier, but alert and tense with Nix so close.

'Not everything has to.'

Merlin watched as he gave him that strange melancholic and kind smile.

'You don't know who I am.'

'I'd like to. Would you like me to take you anywhere? To the blonde? It is Christmas. You should be with the ones you love,' Nix said, his eyes searching for something in his face. Merlin thought about it. They were all dealing with a murder now. Arthur's car had been ruined by Dorocha. The Cailleach had spoken to him, had warned him of consequences. He'd managed to screw things up in a coma.

Arthur also had a girlfriend, couldn't trust him, didn't want to lose him, was going to break up with Mithian, and knew that he'd done bad things. He'd made him feel like a monster after attacking Phoebe and then he'd made him feel safe. There was Mordred. Mordred who he hadn't spoken to since waking up. Mordred who he hadn't seen in four months. Mordred who'd almost ruined him a year before. Mordred who had murdered Arthur, who he had killed at the battle, who had kissed him and understood when no one else had.

'Can you take me to someone you don't personally know?'

'If I let your thoughts lead the spell, yes. I will need a name, though.'

Merlin mulled it over. Nix might not take him anywhere he actually wanted to go. At that point he could Vanish them to the middle of nowhere, kill him, and no one would ever find him. He frowned at the thought, swallowed, and ignored the strange tingle at the back of his head. 'Take me with you.'

'You're not just wanting to put faces to names for arrests later on?'

'I will arrest you in the end. Right now I need something without history. Something without the burden of the past.'

'The end is a long way off, darling,' he said and offered his hand. Merlin pushed his mobile phone into his front pocket and took it. His bedroom swirled, the colours dragged and mixed around each other before they dove into a black mass. His body hit it and he held his breath, eyes squeezed shut as it oozed around him. It was cold everywhere and Merlin's heart raced in panic as his lungs burned, too scared to try and breathe. He was suspended and blind with Nix's hand distantly pulling him through the strange thick liquid. He sucked in frozen air the second he stepped out onto a balcony.

.

.

.

Mordred put a hand up to cover his yawn as he walked down Chelsea Embankment. He'd been given desk duty until Guy's had a conclusive diagnosis for his seizures, and with Christmas they worked slowly, if at all. His body hurt from all the travelling he'd done instead. From the mountains in Scotland, Wales, France, back to the basement club, to their old flat in Islington, to the Pendragon Manor in the Surrey countryside, he'd spent the last five days looking everywhere for her. Whatever had happened on that mountain, whatever had happened to Merlin, had broken their connections, the magic that tied them together and he couldn't do anything else to find her. He felt alone. Lost. Everything he'd always been and always felt. Will was the only person keeping him together. They'd texted constantly since Wednesday, since they'd decided it was okay and pretty great to kiss. He was lying to Will, though, living an entirely different life.

Mordred stopped by the edge of the low concrete wall and stared into the Thames and its dark dirty water which chopped roughly with the hard wind. The snow veiled most of the skyline and blurred the details of the buildings across the water. He had to tell him. He had to find her. He leaned down onto the wall.

'Merry Christmas to me,' he said softly. Taking in a few fresh, water-cooled breaths, he pushed away from the concrete and stepped into someone. Saying sorry a few times and putting arms out in apology he refocused on the stranger and stopped.

Her hair was straighter than he remembered. It fell around her face in waves, blew haphazardly across it, dark and long.

'I said I would come back, didn't I?' Morgana said with a small smile. 'Happy Christmas.'

'You,' he started, throat suddenly tight. 'You've— I watched you die. I saw you fall. I saw Nimueh kill you.'

'Mordred—'

'How are you here?' he asked.

'Merlin.'

'Merlin?'

'You know I felt it months ago, before it all? Old magic in the air. Something different about it. I suppose this's what it meant.'

'The new magic, you know about it?'

'Not just that,' she said softly. A frown flitted across her face. 'You've heard them, haven't you?'

Mordred swallowed, conscious of his expression, of his inability to hide anything from her. After that night on the mountain something inside him had changed. He couldn't lie to her. 'Heard who?'

She was unfazed. 'The voices. Their calls.'

'It's— How? How do you know?'

'I've heard them too. You seem to be affected differently by it. Maybe because you haven't gone back there.'

'Back where, Morgana?'

'I'm not sure what to call it,' she said and her eyes looked past his shoulder. 'All I know is that Merlin opened a doorway that let me out. A doorway which freed the others as well.'

'This is a lot to process,' he paused and studied her. 'This is— This— I thought I was going mad when I saw you at the club, and the screaming, I thought—'

'Hey.' She focused her eyes on him again and put a hand up to his cheek. He saw the fear in her eyes. Would he reject her? Would he refuse to ever see her again? No more pretences after all. 'You're not.'

Mordred could smell her, feel her, hear her voice in real life. Her hair blew into his face with a gust of wind and she quickly tucked it back behind her ears. Flakes of snow were trapped in her soft curls then melted into droplets caught as if they were in a spider's web.

'I don't know what to do here, Morgana.'

'Neither do I.'

'Why couldn't I feel your magic?'

'Maybe because of what happened to me.'

'What did happen?'

'Nimueh stabbed me and then I fell. I lost consciousness before I— Before I landed. When I next woke up I was on a cliff's edge and Merlin was there. I'd seen it all in a dream. I saw him breathe in dragon fire. Then everything crumbled and I was lost.'

Mordred pictured it, tried to at least. It sounded like a dream, but then their lives did. Their existence defied reality, yet there they were. Forgotten, remembered, altered. Trying to survive. 'Where were you?'

'Everywhere. Woods, cities, mountains, places I'd never seen before. I was lost and every time I forgot to focus I was in a new place. I tried to look for Merlin, for anyone, but there was nothing. No birds, no people, no animals of any sort. I was alone.'

'You were wandering around alone for over three months?'

She laughed softly. 'It's wasn't a lot of fun.'

'That could make someone lose their mind.'

'I think it might have but I remembered you,' Morgana said. 'I remembered why I was lost. And then I heard a storm. Thunder, the loudest kind I've ever heard. When I looked up the sky was torn like a sword had ripped open its skin. And I heard your voice.'

'My voice?'

'You were talking to someone, he called you Leir. You were laughing. And the next thing I know I'm lying in the valley of some mountain range covered in blood and in a lot of pain. Magic fixed that up for the most part and I found the nearest town. Turns out Nimueh had kept you in a mountain in Greenland.'

'Greenland?'

'I used a glamour and got a hold of what I needed to get back to London. Vanishing across oceans takes a lot of magic and I wasn't strong enough. I had to take the long way round.'

'I told them that you'd fallen, Morgana. Merlin, Arthur, they think you're dead. The public think you've gone on the run. It was a pretty big scandal.'

'Technically, I did.'

'You are going to tell them, right?' he asked, partly for her response, partly for his own. She was alive. He had to tell them, didn't he? If she didn't, he had to.

'I will. Today, though,' she paused. 'You know, I've wanted to see the sunset from Primrose Hill for years but never have.'

'But it's freezing.'

'Snow has it's own kind of magic, don't you think?

Morgana gave him a tug and they Vanished. The concrete, water, and distant buildings cracked, collapsed, and poured down into a slope of ice-crusted and snow-layered grass.

.

.

.

'I have this thing where I push people away,' Merlin said, leaning forward on his knees with the beer in his hands. Rain hit the pale awning cover overhead with a comforting consistency. 'It's not something I consciously do. I just struggle to let them in, to share personal details, you know? I don't really share any stories and connect with them in that way. Even if I want to something holds me back.'

Nix watched him from the woven sofa opposite, reclined back with an ankle perched over one knee. 'Being alone is a lot easier. Relationships take effort. They take a piece of you. Being so self-aware probably means you're ready to connect with someone like that.'

'No, I'm not. I've done terrible things. Unforgivable things.'

'Like what?' Nix asked, sitting forward. The rain had trickled in around their shoes and pooled into tiny dark puddles underneath the table between them. 'What could be so terrible?'

'I lied.'

'Everybody lies.'

'You don't understa—'

'We aren't infallible, Merlin. We're all screwed up. It's nothing new or terrifying. We can hurt each other so we do. We can kill each other and we do. We can also care for each other so we do. We can love each other and we do to the point where you see it everyday if you look for it. Unforgivable things come hand in hand with the unforgettable and the magical. You don't need to be forgiven for anything.'

'You're wrong.'

'Maybe I am, but you need to give yourself a chance. You're too young to talk so solemnly. Everyone goes through these existential moments and your twenties hit you the hardest, but now is also the best time to explore yourself, trust yourself, take risks, try new things,' he explained, gleam in his eyes and a soft smile. He looked down at his empty bottle.

'Do you ever feel like you're two different people?'

'You feel like that?'

'Sometimes,' Merlin said. He wanted to tell Nix everything in vague enough terms, just let it out. He didn't know his own mind, he didn't know what he was doing anymore, he didn't know what he was doing with Arthur, and Nix was removed from the whole situation. He had magic but he didn't know his friends, he didn't know his past, he didn't even know his own. 'There's a version that's more me, then there's this other me. The way I think is colder and judging and it's— It's cruel. I'm worried the second one will take over the first. I'm also worried I'm too in my head about everything. That maybe if I stopped caring, if I stopped being so self-centred it wouldn't even matter. Of course I then think that's a stupid idea, since I have to take care of myself but there's a big part that doesn't want to. I don't want to sleep, I don't want to eat, I don't— I don't know where to end with this.'

'I think it's time for the stronger stuff.'

Merlin looked at his half-empty bottle. 'I'm good.'

Nix winked at him and rocked himself up onto his feet before he blinked out of sight. Heavy rain smudged the dark grey and black sky and Merlin shifted on the woven chair as the downpour grew stronger. It had been raining for half an hour now, heavy, light, heavy again. Snow fell in the lighter moments, just enough to remain with the already fallen. The sun had set two hours earlier to leave London's light the only thing keeping the sky's mass of disfigured clouds oddly highlighted. Merlin tipped the beer into his mouth when frost bloomed against the dark brown glass. He swallowed and pulled the bottle away to study the glaze of ice.

Everything slowed and his heartbeat sped up.

He breathed deeply when the sound of rain fazed out and grew muffled, his vision following suit as it blurred. Cold fingers under his skin scraped up his spine and neck.

Emrys.

Merlin let the bottle slip from his hand and gripped the edge of the chair. It clattered onto the concrete and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the cold.

'What do you want?' he whispered. Fucking fuck. Why couldn't he be left alone? Be normal.

I want to close the tear between the worlds.

He opened his eyes at the answer and the unforgettable voice of the Cailleach. Heart racing and world smudged by panic and rain her figure stood out black and blotchy as it loomed over him.

'You're the only one who can,' he said quietly, craning his neck up to face her. 'Why don't you?'

You broke the law. Your life was mine.

He frowned as his heart slowed and vision cleared in spite of his panic. 'I had to. I can't leave Arthur alone. Not now.'

There are consequences, Emrys. You cannot break the natural order of Fate—

'Don't you dare,' he warned, now standing up with her aged and translucent pale face at an equal height with his own. 'It's because of you that Lancelot died and broke Gwen's heart. It's because of you that the Dorocha were released. You can close the veil if you wanted to without any blood sacrifices so if that's what—'

Silence.

His throat closed, flesh stuck together with something cold and hard, spikes scratching him from the inside. Merlin would have choked if the ability to hadn't disappeared.

You already saved the King's life in this new world. You have played your part. You are a pawn destined to sacrifice itself for the King and you did so four months ago. Yet you tore the veil and returned. I cannot let you remain.

Merlin blinked when the cold inside melted into slick water that ran down his throat, and he could talk again. 'I don't save his life just the once. I do it repeatedly. It's a long-term deal, not something where I sacrifice myself once and that's it. You can't dictate what my fate is. It isn't up to you, it's—'

Silence, Emrys.

Again, ice inside his throat. He blinked and they'd moved to the edge of the balcony. Merlin didn't remember how they reached it. They were at the edge of the awning cover, his right shoulder spotted and wet with rain that had dripped onto it.

It's time for you to fall, Emrys, and fix what you broke.

He turned to face the edge of the barrier. It reached his hips, wet and dark concrete, with too far a drop down to the street. They were at least seven floors up, the top floor and essentially at the rooftop.

'What?' he managed to croak out from the strange, painful ice in his throat.

Your life belongs to the Beyond, child. Jump.

Her voice sounded in both of his ears, a low encouragement. He ducked forward, the shock of the rain making him gasp, and stepped up onto the barrier. His arm gripped the freezing metal pole of the cover to balance himself as he exposed himself fully to the hazy grey view. 'No, I don't—'

You do. You must face the consequences, Emrys. A Dragonlord cannot break the trust placed in nature. If you don't jump the spirits will continue to run free, uncontrolled, ungoverned. Innocents will die in countless numbers.

The toes of his Converse stood out over the edge. Rain got into his eyes, mouth, soaked through his clothes. All he could see were the rooftops opposite, the drop, leafless trees, street lamps spilling out orange light, and the lit up windows of flats dotted through the skyline of King's Cross. In one window two people were doing dishes. A young couple he decided when the man pressed a kiss against her cheek and she met the next with her lips.

'You can stop the Dorocha—'

Not if you do not die.

'That's ridiculous,' he scoffed, stinging cold hand letting go of the pole so he stood freely on the edge. His stomach churned when his body swayed with the wind and his own pumping blood.

It is Fate.

'I can't do this,' Merlin said, eyes wide. Why was he standing there? What was he thinking? Why didn't he get down or call someone? The hard surface of his phone was pressed into his leg from inside his pocket. 'I can't do this to them.'

You were always meant to die from that wound, Emrys.

An ache pulsed in his abdomen.

You have to leave them.

His body shivered constantly at that point, heart rate forced down to a slow and calm but heavy beat. It hurt, the control over his heart was strange and painful and made his eyes hot with tears. He knew this feeling, the nerves, the tightness in his throat, the way every nerve shook and pounded with survival instinct, adrenaline burning through him.

The pavement below was harder but just as dark as the water had been. Falling hadn't been terrible that first time. Dying hadn't been terrible. Remembering was the problem. He was alone when he died, no one to watch, no one there to stop him, just like he was now. It was easy. Simple.

You were never going to live the life you thought you would. The moment you met him again your path was sealed, Emrys.

Him. He'd come back, he'd taken that bullet for Arthur, he'd protected him from Aredian. Arthur wouldn't have been in any danger from the Witch hunter if he hadn't been there. He wouldn't have been attacked by Aredian's hired killers.

What he'd said that day, the connection he'd felt the words cut, it came back. Arthur's voice in his head saying: A part of me wishes I had never even met you.

Merlin had almost forgotten why he became a detective in the first place. The old life had made his new one unclear. His parents had died, he'd been an orphan, he'd been taken in and brought up by his aunt. His aunt had died during university. He'd wanted to make them all proud. Make her proud. He couldn't do it. He couldn't live that normal happy life. He hadn't given Arthur a choice about his own life, or the others. He'd changed their lives forever by revealing his magic.

You were born again to save his life just as you were born to die doing so.

It was his fault. He should have died. He brought the Dorocha and put Arthur and everyone else in more danger. Arthur knew how to handle magic, he had Mithian, the Knights, Gwen, he'd be okay. Arthur would be happier. They'd all be happier and safer. Mordred would be happier. They could forget him. It was the right thing. He'd make it right for them.

Merlin stared down at the dark pavement, parked cars, and leafless trees. His whole body was numb, soaked through, and the shivers had stopped. He blinked slowly, let the tension leave his muscles, and let out his last breath before he stepped off the balcony.

Cold air filled his ears, a terrifying roar, as he fell for less than a second before vibrations coursed up his leg and around his hip as the wind rushed past. Mobile phone. Merlin's heart slammed into him as he plummeted. The sluggish calm tore out of his body and full blown panic charged through every nerve. He had seconds left.

He couldn't Vanish, the magic wouldn't move in his veins, wouldn't heat up. He couldn't breathe. He was dead in seconds. He had to survive. He to do something. Anything. Something. Anything. When the sound of air rushing past stopped, when his fall slowed, when he could see the shape of frosted rain droplets surrounding him in suspended detail, he sucked in a last breath. He was still falling, slowly, with the world moving at a dilated pace, and the ringing phone stretched out into strange new tones. Then it sped up again.

Rain, wind, cold, pavement, cars, someone screaming. Thunder cracked across the sky. It rolled through the wet air and said Emrys. Someone was saying his name. Not hollow. Not cold. It was low, familiar, dark, rough, inside his head. He braced himself, arms around his head, and hit the cement.

Blackness consumed everything.

(Playlist for Frost:

Sirens by Fleurie

Blapradur by Sigur Ros

Mouth of the River by Imagine Dragons

Young Blood - Renholdër Remix by The Naked and Famous

Destroying Angel by Sneaker Pimps

You're Somebody Else by flora cash

B a noBody by SOAK

Until We Go Down by Ruelle)