500 Days of Freya (Merlin)

Funeral Arrangements

Chapter 15

Warning/s: None. Well, a little Freylin sadness.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

A/N: Look how good I am at updating! I've been in a massive Freylin mood lately ;)

Prompt: ruapilot2: "Leon, Arthur, and Elyan simply wanted their body returned to their families who would arrange things from there. Lance didn't have a family so he simply wanted a decent burial. Percy and Gawain had said much the same thing, though Gawain had recommended a few locations, taverns, where they might put his grave and Percy wished to be buried alongside the family he had lost to the immortal army. It was Merlin's answer which had come as a surprise. When asked he insisted quite adamantly that his remains should not be brought to his mother. Instead he asked that she informed of his passing after his body was burned on a lake just outside of Camelot. "

Arthur supposed it was a bit of a peculiar and morbid conversation to be having, but it was enjoyable, nevertheless. They had been out on patrols many times now, and had exhausted most topics of conversation, but considering the nature of being a knight, it was probably a surprise this subject had never come up before.

It had been, predictably, Gwaine who brought up the matter. Percival had accused him of spending all of his time at the tavern, and Gwaine's response had been: "Indeed, even when I'm dead, I shall lie next to a tavern." He had followed his comment up with a wolfish grin and a swig of his mead, earning himself several eye-rolls and groans.

"You can't seriously want to be buried by a tavern," Leon countered. "That's ridiculous."

Gwaine looked slightly indignant that his wish was the source of mockery from the others. "Nothing wrong with it," he proclaimed. "In fact, I wish to be laid to rest outside the tavern where I first met Merlin and Arthur."

Arthur flopped down next to the rest of the knights in front of the fire that Merlin was tending to. He had volunteered to water the horses himself, and had arrived just in time to hear Gwaine's request. "Why?" he queried.

"I have good memories there," Gwaine replied, his pleasant Irish brogue ringing clear on the still night. "It was meeting you two which changed my life for the better."

Arthur felt unusually pleased by that comment, and not because it was a compliment and made him look good, because it genuinely meant something to him that he had helped Gwaine.

"What about you then, sire?" Leon asked, who was propped up against a log, his boots drying next to the fire.

Arthur considered for a moment. "I would like to be returned to Gwen," he eventually decided. "And then she could choose what would be the best thing for her to arrange, whatever was easiest for her to witness. If I'm dead, I won't mind what's happening, as long as Gwen's dealing with it."

Leon nodded. "I think I would like the same," he agreed. "Not to be returned to Guinevere, obviously, but to my own sister. She could then decide what to do with my body."

"I would like to be returned to Gwen also," Elyan said suddenly. "Much the same as you, Arthur."

Arthur nodded: this was interesting, he had never known these sort of things about his knights, and he might never have known. The terrible 'what if's entered his mind, and he considered what would have happened if one of them was killed and he did not know what they wanted. "Lancelot?" he asked, who was helping Merlin keep the fire alive in the cold air. "What about you?"

Lancelot sat back on his heels, but kept his eyes downcast. "Well, I have no family." He paused. The others watched him silently as he pondered over the matter. "I think I should like a decent burial, that's all, with all those who knew me well present." Nobody missed the small touch that Merlin gave him, just a simple tap on his wrist, a gesture of comfort.

"Anyway," Lancelot said, eager to detract the attention from himself. "Percival, what do you want?"

Percival was watching the flames sway in the breeze like he was in a trance, and he didn't stop when he answered. "My family all burned to death," he started. He cleared his throat hastily. "They were retrieved when the blaze died down, and then buried just outside our village. I want to be buried with them."

Merlin stopped prodding at the fire. None of them had ever heard the story of Percival's family before; they all knew the basics but not what had truly happened. The others had respectfully bowed their heads and averted their eyes from Percival for privacy, and Merlin was as noiseless as possible as he retrieved the cauldron he used for making stew.

A few minutes passed before they all struck up a conversation again, and this time all were cheerful. Soon, of course, the conversation was focused on mocking Merlin for the quality of his stew (which, Merlin pointed out to them, they hadn't eaten yet, so maybe this one was different) and about how Merlin liked to play hide-and-seek with bandits rather than fighting them.

That reminded Arthur again of death, and he suddenly remembered that none of them had asked Merlin for his burial requests. Most servants were not given anything spectacular: obviously, their families could afford little, and many did not even have any family near them. Usually the other servants were given the evening off and buried whoever it was themselves, and then held a private mourning ceremony for their friend.

Merlin was different though, Arthur thought, and he wanted to respect whatever Merlin wanted if it ever came down to it. Arthur sincerely hoped it wouldn't, but, just in case –

"What do you want, Merlin?"

Merlin paused, half crouching, half standing, evidently about to whack Gwaine with the mammoth stick in his hand. "What?" he asked, in obvious surprise.

"For burial," Arthur said quietly, and all of the other knights turned silent as well, probably wondering why Merlin hadn't been involved in their conversation before.

Merlin sat back down and began drawing random lines in the ground with the stick. "Well, I'd like my mother to be informed of my death, obviously."

Arthur's brow creased in surprise; he thought that Merlin's request would be to be returned to his mother and let her arrange his burial. "Are you sure?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes," Merlin said unwaveringly. "There is a lake just outside of Camelot, called the Lake of Avalon. I don't know if you've ever been there."

Arthur shook his head, and then glanced at his knights. They all looked as perplexed as Arthur felt and probably did look as well. "A lake? What do you want us to do there?"

Merlin rolled his eyes, "If you didn't keep interrupting me, you'd find out." Arthur settled back, suitably chastised. "I want to be placed on a boat and set on fire, and then push me out to the middle while I'm burning."

"Why?" Arthur asked, confused. Merlin had always been protective over his mother, and had cared for her more than anything.

Merlin dropped his head again and scratched the stick into the ground again. "I knew a girl called Freya once," he began, and Gwaine's eyebrows skyrocketed. "She died, and I took her to the Lake Avalon so that could be her last view, because she loved lakes, and mountains. There are a lot of mountains on the other side of the lake." Merlin cleared his throat much like Percival had done. "She died, and I placed her in a boat and burned her, and I let her drift out into the middle of the lake. I'd like to be with her."

Merlin could tell that all eyes were on him, so he stood and announced, "Stew's ready, I'll get the plates." He walked to his horse briskly and pulled the plates from his saddlebag, and then when he heard the urgent whispering behind him, he finally let the tears fall.

A/N: I'm actually really happy with how this turned out and I really enjoyed writing it, which is unusual: usually I only have one or the other. Anyway, let me know what you think in a review and leave me any more prompts that you have! ^.^