((hey guys i hope you like this, this is another one shot, this time about freya, please please please review and tell me what you think))

Merlin felt his life weaning as once again his heart was pulled apart, his eyes stung with hot salty tears as he watched his lost love travel down the river, flames licking at her fragile skin. There were only so many times that he could mend a broken heart.

He had already lost so much, if the, time came how would he lose someone else? He kept his eyes trained on the boat as it sailed off into the distance taking Freya further away from him, his heart yearning to hold her again one last time.

He had known her for less then a week but again with her just like his father he had felt a connection, a connection of magic and love. She had been cursed but he hadn't cared, she had been so beautiful and fragile, just like his heart, he had needed her and he could sense that she needed him.

As he lead himself away from the scene that he had just created he knew that he would never be able to forget her, never be able to fall in love again, she would always be there at the back of his mind, Invading his dreams with strawberries and red petaled flowers, everything that made their love beautiful, he would remember her till the end of time, his guilt and sadness at her loss his own to bare, nobody would know, he wouldn't let anyone know about his lost love, the reason why his heart ached.

He couldn't even tell Arthur, Freya's murderer, he didn't blame the prince he just wished that things had been different, that Arthur had missed and the cut hadn't been so deep that he wasn't useless at healing spells.

It all came down to wishing and wishes were never something that Warlock had luck with, but Freya's last words her promise kept sounding in his head, would he see her again? She was dead, but he had magic and magic had weird ways of surfacing itself.

Sighing he rubbed the bridge of his nose and moved away from the lake walking back the way he had just come, his eyes exploding with the moist memory of carrying her to the lake, his arms had ached but he wasn't going to let go.

He felt his breath hitch as he walked not really realising that he was crying, it was silent, like he could let anyone hear his grief, no one would understand why he cried, after all there had been no big battle and everybody seemed to know everybody in Camelot and nobody had died close to him, so villagers would just be confused upon seeing the crumpled manservant.

The forest seemed to ebb away and he felt his feet touch on the path back to Camelot, this was the time to think up an excuse to why he hadn't shown up to work but his mind wasn't working or it refused to work, it just flashed with images of Freya, some beautiful some sad, one with her lying in a boat with red petals and strawberries beside her body and others that he wouldn't describe, they were his own images that he would keep of her and never let go, just like the future that he had planned with her, that future may be dead but he held it securely in his head where nobody could see it.

His own fantasy world where nothing died and nothing could hurt him, where his heart didn't bleed with grief and his mind wasn't dying of loss. His feet touched stone as realised he had made it into the courtyard, it had only taken half an hour to walk back when the way there had taken him an hour because of having to carry her, he was surprised now that she had managed to hold on for so long.

He made his way back to his chambers keeping out the way of any staff who might see him and report him to the prince. Gaius wasn't in when he got there, thankfully, he made his way to his door and pulled it open, revealing his sad little room, it needed something just like how he needed to remember her. He let his eyes glow golden as ancient words sprang to his lips and a red petaled flower sprung from the palm of his hand, gently he placed it on the windowsill and kept it there, he would never let it die, just like his love for Freya.