She has been beaten, tortured, and forced to kill friend and foe alike for one man-one kingdom. Merlin had become his friend; had bled and wept for him, and she realized that it would never be enough.

He would still die.

And it would be all her fault.

Merlin had acted on the belief that she could save him, but in that act she had set his fate. How could any goddess expect her to keep on fighting when it was inevitable?

She would watch her friends die.

Merlin has pushed herself and given herself, until she could do no more. So, she steels herself. No fear, no compassion, no anger, no hate, no love; just the absolute certainty that her visions would come to pass.

She is done pretending to smile and laugh when there is nothing to be happy about.

The knights whisper behind her back and they try to bring her spirits up with antics that would befit a fool, but she brushes them off.

Gwen and Arthur question her and Gaius almost shakes her, but she shrugs and goes back to her chores.

##############

She doesn't sleep anymore; discovered that she doesn't have to, because not sleeping is better than sleeping. When she sleeps, she dreams, and when she dreams it is of blood and fire and ash. It makes her choke.

No wonder Morgana had gone mad.

Merlin takes to wandering to the halls- blending into the shadows when need be because even after all these years the guards are still useless.

Sometimes she goes into the surrounding forest and lies upon the grass tracing the clouds with her fingers and twisting them into shapes and figures feeling the moon beam down on her and the cool air ruffle her shift.

She thinks about the mistakes she has made, and how much of a coward she is.

''Mother.'' Hunith hugs her tight and sits her down; all the while clutching her hands to Merlin's.

'' Your friends are worried about you. They say you haven't been acting yourself. What's happened?'' Her mother looks at her worriedly; talks to her as if she is ten years old again, but the problem is that she knows that she isn't. She grew up.

Merlin could no longer be the girl with the easy smile; that naïve thing that believed that good would ultimately win, that the world was split in to dark and light and it was just so simple as to choose the path you would take.

'' Nothing. I've just figured some things out.'' She squeezes her mother's hands.

Later, Merlin sends her mother away stating the dangers of Camelot, and Arthur argues and she bows and states her apologies, and Arthur will grip her arm before letting go and looking at her with resignation.

Her breath mists in the night air; the snow cold on her back and snowflakes tickling her eyelashes as they come down.

Snow crunches behind her and chainmail jingles as someone sits next to her.

'' Emrys.'' His voice is soft and careful, as if she'll break if he speaks any louder. Merlin does not acknowledge him, but instead reaches her hand out to the sky and begins to twist the snowflakes; making stags race between them and bears dance on their hind legs. She watches him watch her until he grabs her hand and stills her movements- his fingers lacing with hers. '' You must stop this.''

She yanks her hand away from his, '' Stop what?'' Mordred eyes her carefully before taking off his cloak and placing it around her shoulders. Merlin places her hands in her lap as she kneels in front of him; this man who still half a boy- who held no hint of malice, but instead carried a hope of the future and a belief that the man he served would one day make the world right again.

'' You no longer smile or laugh-''

'' I do not see that there is to smile or laugh about.'' Mordred's frowns and touches her shoulder briefly before she slips away from him.

'' Arthur is king. Does that not bring you happiness?''

'' It's complicated.'' Her shoulders slump as she thinks about her destiny, about what shall come to pass.

'' You are our hope Merlin,'' his voice is quiet, but it has a new edge to it that had never been there before, '' you cannot give up hope. Not now.'' She begins to stand up but he pulls her back down until they are almost nose to nose, and for once she is warm as his breath mingles with hers and his hand grips her bare arm.

'' Do you know what its like,'' her voice raises a little as she stares him straight in the eye, '' to have the weight of such a destiny on your shoulders? To hide a part of yourself day after day? To know that the fate of your kin and your kingdom rest upon your shoulders, and yet-'' her voice breaks and she has to look down because she will not look vulnerable or weak. Not in front of him. She stands, dropping his cloak at his feet, and leaves him in the forest knowing that because of her he would turn his back on the people he called friends.

Day after day Mordred talks to her, no matter what. No matter how much she snaps or ignores him he is constantly there. Sometimes she wonders how he gets away with slacking off on his duties. If it had been her Arthur would have lectured her ear off. Still, Mordred sits with her as she scrubs laundry and gathers herbs for Gaius speaking softly with her and spinning stories of his childhood. Most are sad, and sometimes tears gather in his eyes, but he never sheds them.

'' I was sold as a slave,'' he tells her once, '' I spent two months with the man who used to torture the magic out of me. He couldn't have known that my magic would eventually lash out and kill him.'' It is stories like this that make something ache in her heart and grab his hand in comfort; that make her forget the man he will become.

Some stories are happy though, but the most important thing is that she starts to listen. She starts to piece him together bit by bit until she starts to see what drove him to take up a red cloak and sword; a need to be accepted, a simple gesture that had been denied to him because of his abilities and his heritage.

Slowly, because she still doesn't trust him, she starts to share stories. Merlin tells him off her first bit of magic, shattering the windows of her home with her cries, a story that her mother had often told her. She tells him off Will and how her friend used to hold her as they watched people burn, because even in Cenred's kingdom there were still some who feared magic. Then she stumbles through her years in Camelot, always skirting around Morgana until he asks of her. She had hesitates then because no one had ever brought up Morgana's name anymore. It was just too painful.

''She used to be so kind.'' Her fists are clenched in her skirts as she sits back against the trees.

'' I remember.'' Mordred has a faraway look in his eyes and she knows that he is thinking about the woman with the kind smile who used to float the halls of Camelot in a green dress and jewels.

'' You know it wasn't just Uther that made her this way,'' she swallows, '' it was me as well. I turned my back on her and now-'' she waves her hand around before dropping it onto her lap again. '' I have made so many mistakes,'' she confesses,'' and I shall make so many more that-'' Merlin stops herself before she goes too far. Mordred looks as if he wants her to finish, but he doesn't push.

'' We have both betrayed her then.'' This time when Mordred intertwines their fingers together she does not pull away. Instead she notes how calloused his hands are.

They have both lead hard lives.

The first time she laughs with him she is trying to teach him how to juggle. Merlin had taken some apples from the kitchens, and he had looked on with a small smile as she had tossed the fruit in the air. After some haggling she had convinced him to try and after one of the apples had hit his head she had let out a giggle.

He had rubbed his head and smiled bashfully handing the apples back to her, his cheeks the color of the rosy fruit. He looked so innocent, and her heart melted and ached for him

The first time he kisses her it is Yule.

She is flushed from dancing and cider; singing a soft song as she walks through the halls when all the others are all passed out drunk.

'' Merlin.'' She had spun around to see Mordred leaning against a wall with a sparkle in his eyes. Merlin had turned back and stood in front of him with ease.

''Did you out drink Gwaine again?''

'' Indeed.''

'' That's the second time-'' Then he is kissing her. She has only been kissed twice before. The first is when Will had kissed her- when they were both just children and she had only known Camelot as a land far away. The second time was when Gwaine had been very very drunk, and he had apologized profusely afterwards. But she has never kissed like this; with a kind of desperation that makes her pull him closer, and with a gentleness that makes her whimper.

She puts a hand in his hair and makes herself forget about the ale on his breath and the visions. Merlin drowns herself in him; feeling his magic flare up and wrap around her until all she can do his gasp.

They break apart when footsteps echo across the hallway and Mordred hastily pushes her into an alcove. For a moment they both stand in silence and listen as the footsteps retreat down the hall. It is then that she takes her fingers from his hair and places her hands on his shoulders. He takes it as an invitation and draws his hand down her spine and pulls her closer, kissing her neck nipping her flesh until she is arching against him.

She thinks about pushing him away, telling him to stop, but his magic is so consuming and she has been so alone, these past years that she lets him continue. Damn destiny. Damn fate. It was time that she let herself have some happiness- no matter how fleeting.