500 Days of Freya (Merlin)

Strawberries

Chapter 21

Warning/s:

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

A/N: I am really ill :(

Prompt: ruapilot2: "Merlin always grew strawberries. It didn't matter what the season was you could always find a plant covered with the ripened fruit somewhere in his rooms. It would not have been that odd either were it not for the fact that Merlin would never eat any of the fruit himself."

Merlin must have green fingers, that was the only explanation that Gwen could think of. For every time she visited the manservant's room, he had the plants growing in small pots around the room.

It wasn't unusual for Gwen to visit him. The two had been firm friends for much longer than Gwen had been queen, and whilst she had many duties to attend to, she always found time at least once a week to catch up with Merlin.

And every time, he had strawberry plants. But Gwen had noticed one thing – he never ate them. He would wait until they were fully ripe and a succulent red, and then he would gather them in a basket and could be seen walking out of the citadel, and through the lower town, until he eventually disappeared from view.

Nobody was quite sure where he went from there, only that when he returned, the basket was empty and he would shut himself away in his room for the next day, having asked Arthur for the day off already.

And Gwen wanted to find out why this time.

It was winter, and even with fires lit around the castle it was freezing. Stone was definitely not the most insulating of materials. Gwen had taken to wearing a thick cloak and gloves even around the castle, and she continued to do so now as she made her way to Merlin's room. She had missed the daily chats she would have with Merlin when they were both servants, and still valued his friendship.

She bumped – literally – into Merlin just as he was coming out of the room, with a basket full of strawberries. "Oh! I just came to talk," Gwen said pleasantly, not wanting to disturb Merlin with whatever he was doing.

"I was about to go to..." The rest of his sentence trailed off as he looked at her, biting his lip awkwardly. "Come with me," he said abruptly.

"Are you sure?" Gwen asked in surprise. Merlin was usually so private about these visits, sometimes going as far as to outright deny that he had been anywhere when he plainly had.

Merlin nodded. "You're probably wondering where I go anyway."

"Well," Gwen admitted, "I have been, a bit. I never wanted to pry though; you always seemed so sad when you returned from...wherever."

Merlin nodded and started walking again. "There's a reason for it," he said. "But the thing that makes me sad – she is worth it."

Gwen stared at Merlin in surprise. "She?"

Merlin nodded. "Freya. It will become clear once you meet her."

"This is a beautiful lake," Gwen breathed, as they reached the shores of Avalon. "Is this where Freya is?"

Merlin nodded. "The strawberries are for her. She loves strawberries."

"Where is she?" Gwen asked curiously, looking around for this mystery woman.

"In the lake," Merlin said unexpectedly. "She died quite a few years ago. But I still bring her strawberries. She still loves them."

Gwen frowned. She hoped that Merlin was not still mad with grief after all this time. "Merlin...you do understand that she's dead? She can't eat the strawberries."

"Oh, she can," Merlin said confidently, pulling a boat out from a group of thick shrubbery, which had hidden it so effectively that Gwen hadn't even spared the area a second glance. "It sounds like I'm insane, or making it up, but a part of her still remains, here in the lake."

Merlin set the basket of strawberries in the boat, and then pulled two candles out of his pocket and some small scrolls of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink. "She gets bored, so I bring her things to do," he explained to Gwen. "Sometimes books, sometimes games, sometimes paper and ink."

Gwen frowned. Merlin's actions were – well, they were the actions of someone in denial. But he said that Freya had passed years ago. Maybe because he had never told anybody it was still far too strong for him to handle?

Merlin untied the rope that kept the boat docked and pushed it off. It glided through the water with the odd assortment of gifts. "Just wait," Merlin said confidently.

Gwen nodded and waited patiently. She was always one to give fair opportunities. She was about to tell Merlin that this was all in his mind and console him, for the boat was just sitting in the middle of the lake, when a fine mist rose up from the water and surrounded the structure, winding round it and engulfing it.

"That's Freya," Merlin said happily, watching the mist. "When she died, I put her to rest here, at this lake. And I don't know why, exactly, but the lake kept her alive in spirit and occasionally she can visit me using her corporeal form."

"Merlin, this is..." Gwen was going to say 'strange', but strangeness and oddities seemed to follow Merlin around hand-in-hand. "Wonderful," she settled for eventually.

Merlin beamed, nodding. "I know. I can't visit very often because of my work in Camelot, and she is very busy anyway. She's called The Lady of the Lake now, and she guards the veil between our world and the next. She makes sure nobody is there unjustly, and guides them through to the other side one by one."

Gwen was still not sure if this was the truth or if Merlin was so driven by grief that he was making all of these rambles up, but regardless she patted her friend on the arm and watched as the mist died down and some invisible force pushed the boat back to them.

Then, as if carried on the wind, Gwen heard the words "I love you," and looked at Merlin to see him smiling. "That was Freya," he told her.

"She sounds lovely," Gwen said, not quite knowing what else to say. She believed Merlin now, but she was finding it hard to process what was happening.

"She is. On the inside and the outside." Merlin collected the now empty basket from the boat – the other things had vanished as well as the strawberries, Gwen noted – and tied it back to keep it under the shrubbery.

"It's better than nothing, but I still wish it was more," Merlin said wistfully, staring out over the lake. Gwen couldn't say she disagreed. The two of them sat on the sand and pebbles, leaning against each other as they watched the lake ripple with the light breeze and the trees whisper to each other.

A/N: This is so terrible I'm so bad at writing