Note: Soooo this was about a year and a half in the making. My deepest apologies to anyone who was reading this that it took so long. My writer's block was horrible, and since I knew how I wanted the story to end I didn't feel like continuing it for a long time. But here it is. Only about three chapters left now!

Chapter 9

The Sea was a crystal clear cerulean blue. There were small waves which gently rose and fell on its surface, despite the fact that there was no detectable breeze or tide to cause the movement. In the center of it, Arthur could see a minuscule island which was covered in the greenest grass he had ever laid eyes on. It was dotted with yellow spots here and there, which he realized with a jolt would be the flowers they were so desperately seeking.

"MERLIN!" he called excitedly in the last direction he had heard his servant stumble about, "MERLIN!"

But there was no answer. Perhaps the idiot had stumbled further away from him than Arthur originally thought. He was about to call out again, when he remembered the legends about the mysterious Sea. "It would only reveal itself to those who 'knew the true meaning behind its name'". Maybe it wasn't Merlin who was far away, perchance it was truly himself. After all, the Sea was magical so it made sense that if he found it he could not call out to others. It was possible that he, Arthur, was chosen to find the Sea, and not Merlin. However, if that was the case, how was he supposed to get to the island in the center? And should he wait for Merlin to find him? Or should he continue on with the quest by himself?

...

As Arthur was pondering the answers to his multitude of questions, Merlin was wandering about not far from the shores of the hidden Sea. However unlike Arthur, Merlin could not hear the gentle lapping of waves upon a fair shore. The warlock could sense the presence of its deep and powerful magic, but he could not see it. Frustrated, he knew that he would not be able to find it if the Sea wanted to be hidden. No magic in existence was powerful enough to force its location into light if it did not want to be found.

In despair, Merlin decided to go back and find Arthur, but when he looked for the king he realized that his best friend had vanished. Not only that, but he had disappeared near a place of magic so strong that Merlin was almost knocked over by the sheer concentration of it. Putting two and two together, Merlin realized that it was Arthur, not himself, who was chosen to find the plant and save Freya.

Although he could not help but feel slightly jealous of Arthur's ability to be the chosen one for what felt like practically everything, at the same time Merlin acknowledged the gratefulness he felt at Arthur's willingness to help him on the quest. So here he was, waiting at the mercy of fate to find out if Arthur was successful in securing the flower. Never in his wildest dreams would Merlin have thought that this day would come. A time when he was forced to wait and see if his best friend, who killed her, could rescue the love of his life.

….

Arthur was a man of action. It wasn't as if he couldn't take a moment to think of all possible outcomes, but he knew that he and Merlin were on a bit of a deadline. A deadline that actually could result in someone being dead if he didn't make some sort of decision one way or another to go after the flower.

Mind made up, Arthur methodically went around the shore of the lake, searching for anything to help him get across the water, when he found a boat. It was innocently tangled up in a few weeds, lying a few feet in front of him. Arthur scrambled to go to it, and eagerly examined it to check its condition. He saw that the boat looked charred around the edges, as if at one point a fire had been contained within it. However, he couldn't find any oars inside. Instead there were only decaying ferns that were arranged in the shape of what appeared to be a bed, and a bouquet of dead flowers.

Groaning in frustration, Arthur got inside the boat to see if there were any paddles underneath all the plants. However, once he got inside the boat began to move of its own accord. Startled, Arthur looked around wildly until he realised it was magic.

'No point in worrying about it now', he thought. Grim faced, but with steely determination, Arthur crouched in the boat, sword drawn just in case, facing the island that was slowly looming nearer.

...

Meanwhile, Merlin was wandering about aimlessly, futilely attempting to distract himself from where Arthur could be, and if he had accomplished the task. He was so wrapped up in these thoughts that he didn't notice how he had stumbled upon the same lake he had buried Freya in. The same lake which she was found abandoned by.

Suddenly, a lone silhouette appeared, concealed in the shadows.

However, Merlin felt a tingling sensation on the back of his neck. It had never led him astray before, so he quickly turned around. And, peering into the shade of the trees, he couldn't believe who it was that faced him.

...

The boat gently announced its arrival to Arthur's destination by bobbing cheerfully against the side of the island.

The young man got out of the boat hesitantly, and tensed as he alertly scanned the island for any signs of evil. There were none that he could see, so he quickly looked for the nearest patch of flowers.

He remembered that Merlin and Gaius had mentioned that just one would do the job, so to be safe he decided to take an entire bunch in his hands. He bent down, preparing to pull the flower out of the ground. But before he could take it an old woman appeared.

...

"Morgana!" Merlin spat.

She scornfully laughed at the manservant, lying on the ground.

"Merlin, let's just cut to the chase. If you're here that means Arthur is too. But I don't much fancy having Arthur find out that I'm here," Morgana said.

"Why?" Merlin asked defiantly, as he got back to his feet.

His chin raised proudly in a subtle conveyance of resistance.

However, instead of answering Morgana merely knocked Merlin out again, this time for good, with a powerful blast of energy. She walked over to his unconscious form and stared down at it.

As soon as Morgana saw Freya emerge from the lake, she knew who the girl was. Even in her weakened state her powers of foresight as the High Priestess hadn't diminished. She had heard of a prophecy, concerning Emrys, and how he and the Lady of the Lake were destined to bring prosperity to Camelot under Arthur's reign. And she couldn't afford to let that happen.

It was clear that the girl was weak, and soon she fainted at the base of a nearby shrub. It was laughably easy how Morgana was able to inflict those wounds upon Freya, and leave her there to die. However, she didn't expect Arthur to show up so soon and rescue the girl. Although normally proud, and ready to fight to the death, she recognized that her power was still too weak for a real confrontation. Thus, she merely sunk back into the shadows, allowing Freya to be taken back to Camelot. 'After all', she thought, 'It's not like Emrys could possibly be in the castle. He probably doesn't even know that his love is in danger and will die soon.'

Like Freya, Morgana decided to quickly inflict the same wounds upon Merlin. So after she sprinkled some herbs over him, she muttered various incantations to make him forget ever meeting her and to make the deep, red scars appear on his arms just like Freya.

...

Arthur quickly drew his sword, aiming it at the old woman.

However, she just gazed upon him. She didn't speak, didn't utter a single word. She didn't even take a step closer to him to attack or cower back in fear. But her stare felt like it pierced Arthur straight through to his soul.

'You are worthy,' she simply stated, without opening her mouth, 'You may obtain the flowers.'

Arthur quickly discerned that she was speaking to him telepathically. Magic. So he prepared to draw his sword against her, but before he could she spoke again,

'Please, don't use that weapon here, young prince. This is sacred ground, meant for healing. Which is why I'm assuming you're here in the first place.'

Arthur didn't lower it, but he didn't resume his attack.

"How did you-", he began to say aloud, but she cut him off.

'Know who you are? Know about your mission? Many people try to locate this island, young prince. However, it is protected by an ancient magic. A magic which knows all, and personifies itself to converse with those few people it deems worthy of entering. Only those who know the true meaning of its name can enter', once again she communicated telepathically.

Arthur's brow furrowed, "But I still don't understand what-"

'What that means?', she interrupted again.

'Now she was just showing off', Arthur thought, but without much spite.

'It means that only those who understand what grace is, how to accept it, how to embrace it, and how to do their best to repay those who bestow it upon them can enter here.'

With that she vanished, leaving Arthur alone, standing there dumbly, sword still in hand, and poised to strike.

Feeling odd, and wanting to leave quickly before the woman had a chance to use any magic against him, Arthur quickly retrieved the flowers he had bent down to pick. Quickly, he made his way back to the boat and it started moving again of its own accord.

They had it. They had succeeded in getting the small yellow flower which glowed like the sun. Now all that was left was to run like the wind back to Camelot. And to find Merlin.

...

Freya sat in the murky depths of her unconscious watching, waiting for Merlin's rescue. She knew that he couldn't always save her, that this might be the one time that he failed her, but in her heart of hearts she knew that she could never give up hope.

Death. That was the devilish fiend behind the grasp which Freya could not escape. And it had so conveniently taken the form of a black haired lady which Freya knew to be Morgana, Arthur's half-sister.

She couldn't escape now, not without Merlin's help at least, when she thought she heard him moan. The faint sound had overcome even death's hold on Freya, and her spirit quickly rose to the challenge.

Her heart broke when she heard that sound. She couldn't let her Love be in any sort of pain if she could help it. No longer apathetic and hopeless, a fierce surge of love surged within her. It awakened her protective instincts, and her passionate devotion to Merlin helped her escape from Death's claws if for a moment.

Quickly, she surfaced to the lake top to see Merlin lying unconscious by the water's edge.

She sprinted across the surface of the water, stopping in front of her beloved's prone form. She bent down to cradle his head and whisper encouraging words to him, knowing that she didn't have long before Death found her once again, but this time permanently.

"Everything will be okay Love", she half whispered, half sobbed as she clutched Merlin tightly to her chest, "Everything will be okay."

….

Arthur found his manservant lying face down on the ground by a lake. He quickly went over to him to examine his body for any damages. He found the same angry red marks that had been found on Freya's body. He didn't know how to administer the flower's magic to his friend, so instead he quickly strapped Merlin to the back of his horse. If anything he just hoped to get back to Camelot in time to save Merlin too.