Summary: "Have you conspired with her?" Arthur demanded to know, his sword firmly in his hand. He looked down at the kneeling Merlin, but there was no pity in the Prince's eyes. "Have you helped her? Have you aided she who was guilty of using magic?" (OneShot)

AN: (I do not own Merlin!) For some reason, I was feeling a little down yesterday evening, and what better to let it all out than write a story for Merlin that has lots of angst and sad scenes. I really can't hold myself responsible for this. I started to write and this came out. I can only hope someone will like it a bit...

About the title: As you may know, I name every story after a song. This time, I chose this, performed by Thriving Ivory. I love the song and when I reread this story, I actually listened to that song on my iPod and it actually fit.

Now let's get moving with this little story... Here it goes:

Flowers for a Ghost

It was all in the eyes. Fear and anger. Disappointment and gratitude. For the longest second, Merlin looked into Arthur's eyes, and he could see his thoughts, his emotions written so clearly in them like cut glass. The truth hurt. Now more than ever. Loyalties were tested. The Kingdom only just restoring from Morgana's terrible and cruel reign. If you valued your life these days, then you kept silent and nodded when necessary or Uther would have your head.

The silence had been to much to bear. Merlin had made a mistake, a grave mistake that would change everything. He told himself he would not run, he would stand and face the consequences, but much was to be lost. Merlin did not want to leave Gaius or Gwen, Lancelot or Gwaine. He certainly did not want to leave Arthur for it would mean he was abandoning his destiny. Nothing was ever easy, he told himself, certainly not today.

He had been so certain that he hadn't been followed, but here he stood, face to face with the Prince that had grown to fear magic more than hate it. There was despise in his eyes, a black pit that held nothing but cruelty and agony. Arthur was in pain, mental pain.

"I am so very sorry," Merlin heard himself say, though he did not know when he had found his voice again. The silence had hung low above them, pressing them down, cutting them. Now that it had been broken, all that was left, were pieces. Merlin's world, together with Arthur's, had been shattered.

Arthur bared his teeth. His pain had been replaced with anger, hatred. It pained Merlin to see him like this. "Do. Not. Speak." Arthur's words were hard, his eyes cold. If looks could kill, Merlin thought, than he'd already died several times by now. "Why?" Arthur demanded to know. Tears come to him, but he did not cry.

Merlin did not care. He let his tears roll freely down his cheeks. They were evidence of his sorrow, his regret. He would have hated himself for crying before the great Prince, but not today. Today, nothing really mattered. Only the exposed secrets and lies that had separated the Prince and him for so long. Another long silence filled the air and Merlin could not bear it. He fell on his knees, his head in his hands, not wanted to look at Arthur no more.

"Her," Arthur spoke the word as if it were poison, "because of her?"

"She was kind," Merlin knew that every word he spoke, made matters worse. He had to, however, because he would not have Arthur disrespect her name. He would not have him claim that she was evil and wrong. "She had a good heart and meant no harm." More tears followed as painful memories came flooding back to him. Never had he blamed Arthur for her death, the thought hadn't even crossed his mind before now. It stung him, it poisoned him and hurt him like a fire raging through his veins. Anger was coming to the young sorcerer, but he pushed it down, wanting to feel nothing but this pain.

"She killed people," Arthur spat the words.

Merlin lifted his gaze again, finding those cold eyes that belonged to Arthur. "She had a name," he said as he looked over his shoulder. The lake lay calm, the water barely moving towards the shore. It betrayed nothing of the secrets it held or had held. Once this had been such a calm place, but from this day forward, it would have nothing but painful memories. "Her name was Freya."

As Arthur drew out his sword, it made a threatening hissing sound. Merlin had heard it a million times already, but never before had it caused him any fear. He could not bring himself to think about what would follow next. He simply looked at the Prince, awaiting his next move.

"Have you conspired with her?" Arthur demanded to know, his sword firmly in his hand. He looked down at the kneeling Merlin, but there was no pity in the Prince's eyes. "Have you helped her? Have you aided she who was guilty of using magic?"

He had still not said her name. How could it be that Arthur did not want to say it while all that Merlin wanted to do, was call it out. Yell it for the world to hear? Freya. Freya! FREYA! How he missed her and how he wished he could have saved her...saved her from Arthur.

"I have," Merlin answered truthfully, "and I do not regret it."

Arthur took a step forward, but Merlin did not move. He did not even blink. Perhaps this was better. Arthur deserved to know and Merlin wished he'd found out differently. In stead, he had followed Merlin to this lake and he had found him mourning a girl that was long gone. It had not been hard for Arthur to understand that Merlin was crying over Freya, one who he had killed himself.

"You will come with me," Arthur said, his voice hoarse as if he had not had any water in days, "as you are under arrest for conspiring with a witch. You have already admitted to your crimes and I have found you guilty. Therefore, by the laws of Camelot, I have no choice but to sentence you to death."

The words were heavy, but Merlin could not bring himself to care about them. What did it matter? He would not go with Arthur. He refused to walk towards his own death. Merlin inhaled deeply, still feeling the tears escaping the corner of his eyes. Slowly, he rose, having re-found his strength in his legs. "I will not come with you," he spoke his words loud and clearly, needing Arthur to understand, "and you must believe that I do not blame you."

Arthur frowned as he lifted his sword, its sharp edge pointed towards the servant boy. "What are you talking about?"

Merlin took a step away from the Prince, watching how his anger turned to confusion again. "You have killed Freya," he said, "but I do not blame you. I have kindness, too, and I ask you to show me compassion."

"I can not," Arthur said angrily again.

"Then this is farewell," Merlin took another step back and lifted his arms high up in the sky. He almost seemed to be reaching for the clouds. "Dray methraki swee." A wind swirled around him, leaves and small branches blocking him away from Arthur's sight. And as Merlin felt a pull in the back of his head, he opened his eyes and was just able to see Arthur's astonishment. It would be the last time he would see the Prince. Magic took him away from Camelot to a land where no one would find him.

And that day had been the last day Merlin had ever laid eyes on Arthur Pendragon.