Now is the time for a few more words, I think.

Hello to everyone who has not yet abandoned this piece and is willing to come back after the last update was 1 1/2 years ago. And also, hello to everyone who is new and doesn't know anything about the pain this fic was to any of the readers who came before you and liked it while it was still unfinished.

This work has taken me 5 years to complete (pretty much exactly since I started it in February 2013, when the Paperlegends 2013 fest started). Back then I couldn't have known how much time it would take me to complete it. Of course it should've been finished on my posting date (September 13th, 2013). But, as we all know, that didn't happen. Still, a lot of other things happened. I actually graduated (surprised myself with that one), I was unemployed, I was employed, 1 month later unemployed (I hated that job), was doing some further education, procrastinating hardcore on the fic (no surprise here) and found a job (that I don't hate).

And low and behold, suddenly a post about the "Finish Your Fic, Merlin!" fest on LJ rolled over my tumblr dash and I thought: This is it! This is the kick in my lazy, procrastinting arse I've been looking for this whole time. They put in a deadline, and even some prizes to sweeten the deal. Of course I started procrastinating again. But in February I finally found my footing with this fic anew and in the end it only took me 2 months to finish.

I feel proud but also kind of bad. In order to finish, I read the whole fic again. For the first time in years. And I found so many mistakes and typos and even slight continuity errors (because I was too lazy to check up on stuff I had already written when I finally continued). I'm sorry to all the readers that you had to go through this. And crazy enough, some of you still liked this train wreck enough to not only favourite but even comment. And these comments are some of the sweetest, nicest, brilliant words I've ever gotten. I read them so often in the last few months to keep my spirits up. They really helped. Thank you all so much for making the effort.

Since this is the longest fic I've ever written and I have grown fond of it, I feel bad for not putting more effort into it. I like to think that I have grown a little in writing and story creation and that's why I plan to rework it in its entirety and post it to AO3 when it is finished. But this will take time, of course. So, don't expect anything in the next few months (I also kind of need to get away from it for a while).

So, this is it. I'm done and it feels good.

Just a few words of thanks at the end:

Thank you, wassereis (LJ) for coming out of your comfort zone for me and creating wonderful art for this fic. As soon as it's on AO3 I will be able to finally implement the works into the story.

Thank you also, snickersnack (AO3) for proof-reading all my stuff. Back than, in 2013, when I asked around for someone to do it, you thought, you would only beta this fic for me and be done with it. But nope, I didn't finish it that year and the year after that and the year after that etc. Thus your were stuck with me and my fics. But I can't complain, because you have become a very dear friend to me and I wouldn't wanna miss you for the world.

Last thanks go to Finish that Fic, Merlin! ( ). Taking part in this fest helped me a great deal with finishing my fic (lol). So, thank you for creating this fest.

Now, I don't wanna keep you any longer, my friends. Whoever of you is still willing to give this thing a chance; enjoy.

Part 14

Hengröens hooves sunk deep into the soft earth of rarely wandered paths while Arthur hurried him along. He would have preferred to take Helvica. The mare was Arthur's favourite for hunting. Tall and lean, her long legs stretching far, she was light and fast as the wind. She could have saved them precious time. But when he entered the stables just before dawn he knew that he needed an animal that could bear more weight and endure longer rides. So he had chosen the loyal gelding, trusting that he would carry them securely to their destination.

The bundle in Arthur's arms had not moved for two hours. Merlin was wrapped into one of his disused winter cloaks and even though the Pendragon colours had already bleached from it over time it stood in stark contrast to the siren's ashen appearance. Arthur tried to shove his worries away, fully aware that any doubt or fear would be useless to them. He had to look forward, focusing his eyes on the task ahead, instead of wasting more time on the past.

Wrapping his arm tighter around Merlin's unconscious form he made sure that he didn't slip from Hengrön's back. Then he put spurs to his horse, the sun climbing much too fast into the morning sky for his liking.

According to different accounts the Lake was a three days journey from Camelot, though there was no way to be sure. Even people who had encountered it and returned to tell the tale were unable to recount where exactly it was located. As if their memory was altered, the path they took cut off from their minds always shortly before they reached it. The unreliable information had Arthur gritting his teeth over maps of the south, struggling to decide on the best direction. All the while Gaius kept nagging him with his concerns about the ordeal he was going to take on.

His arguments were the same as Merlin's. He adjured Arthur to think of the danger that was lurking at the line between the worlds. Conjuring stories of the ones who had wandered there and lost their way the old man probably hoped to discourage his king from the idea. And he was probably right. Between all the old wives' tales and woolgathering must be a hard core of truth. Merlin was the best proof for the unknown threats the lands in the south held. How easy could it be for his kin to lure Arthur into a trap? And if not kill him than maybe chain him with a different kind of magic.

Every objection Gaius could come up with had already gone through his own head, but still, he didn't waver. He had made his decision to right his wrongs and take Merlin home. So all he asked of the physician was to give him the information on Avalon, the Lake and siren-magic he was able to gather in the last few months, which was not much to say the least.

Many writings revealed that sirens had not always been mystical hunters at the edge of Avalon. Once they belonged to the great races to govern the Eternal Fields but they fell deep after committing a sin that banished them from the Immortal Realm. No account stated what their crime had been but their punishment was severe. Robbed of their station they were to live their lives at the edge of the realm, gathering souls as sacrifices to Avalon until their debt was repaid.

Other stories existed, telling of sirens roaming the world of mortals. Lost and restless they were in search of a new home to escape the fate they had been burdened with. Some even suggested that they mingled with humans and never returned to the Lake. But there was no way to confirm these rumors or find out how these sirens might have survived separated from the Gates.

In the end all their knowledge boiled down to legends and fairytales passed along over centuries. It contained nothing valuable and no hint of how to help Merlin. The fact strengthened Arthur's believe that returning his siren home was the only way to save him. Still, the sickening thought of the life he would be returning him to remained.

He had voiced his concerns to Morgana the night before his departure. When he came to her with a heavy heart he hadn't known how his sister would react to his plan. She had been awfully tight-lipped about everything regarding a siren in their home since Merlin had settled in. Usually she didn't shy away from giving Arthur her piece of mind but in this case her comments had been rare and frustratingly cryptic. The only indication that Morgana's feelings towards Merlin were mostly positive was the smile which would paint itself on her lips whenever Arthur started to talk about him in her presence.

After she had listened to his scheme and request she had been quiet for a very long time, her green eyes only following the dance of flames in the fireplace. Then she had smiled. Again that cat-like, all knowing smile which annoyed Arthur to the bones and made him wish he could read minds. But he couldn't, and instead of sharing her mysterious knowledge with him Morgana had only breathed a kiss onto his hair and told him to be careful.

Two days ago she had seen them off. He still remembered the silken fabric of her dress flapping lazily in the cool November air. Though she had no fur or coat to protect her from the low temperatures her face had shown no sign of discomfort. His strong, independent, clever, maddeningly mysterious, beautiful sister. She was born to rule and if it would be in Arthur hands he would give her a kingdom to make her own. But since it was impossible she would become his closest advisor, ruling beside him just as she deserved.

Gaius had been next to her, his features stony, the lines in his face appearing sharper than usual. Where Morgana seemed to be convinced of Arthur's success and save return, the physician was obviously expecting a dark future. Still, without another word of objection he had passed Arthur a small satchel containing tinctures and salves for all kinds of ailments and injuries. "Just in case", he murmured when Arthur checked the content and squeezed the king's shoulder as if he was still his young charge instead of a grown man.

At the beginning of their journey Merlin had been able to lighten Arthur's mood and distract him from the growing uneasiness which crawled up his spine and made his neck stiffen the further they invaded foreign territory. Although there had been no further protests from him Merlin's mood had been sour upon their departure, his lips sealed not only by exhaustion but also by defiance. But his siren was much to font of letting his mouth run away with him and by afternoon Arthur was caught up in an unending litany of comments regarding the weirdness of mortal behaviour and recaptures of amusing things he had seen on his way to Camelot. The easy companionship that had settled between them had Arthur almost forget the circumstances of their journey, and even if it was just for a short time he let himself be drowned by the illusion of a returning summer where they could spend their days kissing at the river bend.

But the dream didn't hold for long. Merlin was deteriorating fast, nodding off in the middle of a sentence for minutes before coming to, confused and clueless where he was. The next day was worse. Minutes turned into hours of silence when the exhaustion forced his siren into unconsciousness, letting Arthur's sorrow grow even deeper and slowing them down simultaneously. Arthur had to hold onto the sleeping body, afraid that he would slip off Hengröns back. The ride became increasingly tiring like that, forcing him take additional breaks in which he tried to rouse Merlin to instill some sustenance into his thin form. It worked well enough in the beginning. Merlin usually awoke after a few shakes of his shoulder and his name being spoken insistently. He was groggy afterwards and needed help to anchor himself to reality again, but life would return quickly to him.

With the passing of the second day this small comfort crumbled. No shaking, no caress, no shouting as loud as Arthur dared would wake Merlin from his slumber. And even if he did come to by himself, Merlin's eyes were not really seeing, his ears not really hearing. All Arthur could do when the sun began its early descent was force some water into him before Merlin slipped back into unconsciousness, leaving his king behind on their lonely journey.

Night had fallen already when Arthur stopped again, contemplating, if they should make camp. He felt beaten and tired with nothing to lighten his mood now that he was alone with his thoughts. Three days had come and gone and he still didn't feel any closer to their destination. Hours before, on an afternoon break, he had been pouring over the maps that had seemed useful while he was planning their trip at Camelot. But he had to admit that the precious documents had been reduced to a waste of space. He didn't know this territory. The area was as alien to him as any land beyond the sea, and in a forest appearing exceedingly dense and overgrown by the hour existed nothing to pinpoint his location. Right now, trapped in the dark, even the moonlight hardly reaching through the canopy, he was blind and clueless.

Leaning Merlin's relaxed body carefully onto Hengröns neck, Arthur jumped off to take a look around. He doubted that he would encounter an inn where they could get a room with a bed and a hearty meal but at least a dry patch of grass, maybe on a small clearing where the earth was not uncomfortably crumpled by tangled tree roots, should be possible to find.

Aware of the uneven ground and bushes that could have him or the gelding stumble Arthur wound his way carefully through the trees, only looking up casually when a thicker beam of light told him that the tree tops were declining slightly. In hopes of gaining a better sense for their location his eyes were scanning the stars through the thinning leaves when he stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes fixated the branches uncertain if the moonlight and the exhaustion were playing tricks on him.

The leaves were green.

Though the sparse light made it hard to see the colours clearly there was no doubt that the canopy above him was lush and lively. The tree branches were heavy with greenery appearing as full and fresh as on any summer day. No yellow or brown was peeking through, no shrivelled leaves littering the ground. Even the soil had changed.

This early into November the earth would not be frozen yet, but still, when he had laid out his maps in the afternoon it had been as expected in autumn. A little wet, cold and grey, just a few patches of liveless grass in between. But here it was soft, covered by moss and vines that were climbing the trees. Flowers peered at him from between the overgrowth, sometimes solemnly standing, sometimes crowding to his feet and there, right in front of him, claiming the rotten trunk of an old tree were vines heavy with raspberries.

Dizzy from this assault of confusing impressions Arthur fell to his knees, staring at the ripe fruit within his grasp. Maybe he was dreaming, he told himself. It was impossible how the world had shifted around him. He had probably fallen asleep and slipped off Hengrön, hitting his head hard on a root. Nodding to himself his hand reached for an especially fat berry, plugged it off and popped it into his mouth. The following explosion of plump and juicy flavour flooding his tongue brought him back to reality. He felt himself shaking from the onslaught on his senses, sweat trickling down his nose, letting Arthur grow aware that the temperature had risen as well, the humid air almost cooking him in his fur lined coat. Shrugging it off he breathed deeply, desperately trying to fill his lungs and calm his nerves. The smells invading his nose were a diverse dance of pleasing odours. Fresh grass and sweetly blooming flowers sprinkled with dew on an early August morning. Wheat standing high and golden on the fields while trees and bushes beared the weight of ripe fruit, luring one to taste and enjoy. And water, warmed by a burning sun, but still cold enough to grant relief from the hot days.

Arthur's head cocked up upon the revelation. Water. He smelled it clearly.

Stumbling to his feet he concentrated, making sure he was not imagining it. But no, the odour was still there, even stronger now. Arthur pricked his ears, praying for the sound of waves or even just a splash to indicate the direction only to be disappointed. All that could be heard was the cracking of the underbrush and the rustling of the canopies.

He sweared, kicking a tree trunk as he felt impatience and frustration getting the best of him. His eyes fell to Merlin who was white as snow in the pale light. The siren appeared dead. Beautiful but liveless. If it hadn't been for the slight movement of his chest Arthur would've believed it.

But he was alive and there was still a chance and suddenly the smell of water grew stronger, attracting his attention, and then, on pure instinct, Arthur knew where to go. His hand let go of Hengrön's reins, trusting the gelding to follow him unguided. Arthur's feet started walking without his notice. Just making their way through undergrowth and trees, confident as if they had wandered this path many times before. The forest had gotten so dense now that he could never see further ahead than a few meters. But he didn't need to see. Instead, for reasons completely hidden from him, he knew, and after mere minutes the greenery thinned, enabling Arthur to take longer strides until he broke into a run, the urgency to reach his destination growing.

The edge of the woods came as a surprise. Unexpectedly, the enclosed spaces between the trees gave way to a vast clearing, the sudden change of environment having Arthur lose orientation. His steps, confident before, became unsure and his knees buckled. But he didn't acknowledge how his hands crashed into the soft white sand that lined the clearing in a perfect circle, instead his face went slack, his eyes growing big as he took in the view.

There was no doubt that in front of him lay the Gate Between the Worlds.

Neither ripples nor waves were disturbing the water's surface. Like a polished mirror, it reflected the stars and the moon, their light softly illuminating the surrounding forest and the mist floating far out in the center. Thick and white it obscured the opposite side, moving lazily but staying in one place, its tendrils reaching out only to be drawn back like curious children's fingers burned by fire. From the water seemed to seep a ghostly hue, a bluish emerald glow lacking a source.

A soft touch ripped Arthur from his trance. Turning around he faced Hengrön, the gelding's round dark eyes regarding him sadly. Arthur smiled, laying a hand between the soft nostrils to caress him apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you on your own."

Hengrön huffed in reply but pressed his nose into Arthur's palm. The kind gesture made his smile grow but he had to put an end to the small banter all too soon.

They had reached the Lake at last. He had brought Merlin home but nothing had changed. Still leaning over Hengröns broad neck, he was limp like a ragdoll. Arthur didn't know what he expected when they reached this place. Did he think colour and strength would magically return to Merlin's body? That health would seep into him like air being sucked into his lungs, making him talk and walk and laugh again?

Merlin said that it could be too late, that his condition could be irreversible. But Arthur was not ready to believe it. In this place there must be a chance for miracles to take effect. Power, unfathomable, was pulsing through the air, escaping the water and prickling on Arthur's skin. Magic like that must be useful in some way. It had to be.

Wrapping his arms around Merlin's sleeping form he pulled him carefully off Hengrön's back to sink to the ground. The disturbance didn't rouse him but a faint sound escaped his lips, having Arthur's heart flutter with hope. He spread his cloak over the sand, laying Merlin's body gently on top to dress him down to his tunic and trousers before he did the same to himself. Then he lifted the siren up onto his arms and walked towards the Lake.

The air was quiet here.

When Arthur reached the water's edge he hesitated, looking down into his dark reflection. There was still no movement, no breeze to irritate the polished surface, and for a moment Arthur thought that it was probably a terrible idea to disturb the peaceful perfection until his gaze fell to Merlin who was dying in his arms and he started to wade into the unknown depths.

The water streamed like liquid silk between his legs. It was cool but not unpleasant. Ripples formed around him as he slowly moved deeper. He could see them spread out lazily, becoming wider, broader, but being swallowed by the Lake again before they could reach the shore. Although Arthur was trying to be careful in his movements to avoid falling or attracting unwanted attention it appeared strange to him, how the little waves he created vanished so fast. It was almost like the water was heavier here than he was used to. As it reached his thighs he needed to put a little more force behind his motions, and where the shimmering surface should split violently, creating bubbles and splashes around him, it only gurgled a little and flowed by almost unimpressed.

Arthur felt a shiver running down his spine, unwilling to think about the nature of the Lake while being immersed in it. Merlin's body was already touching the surface and he figured this was just as good a place as any. Submerging Merlin's form up to his neck he held him with both arms securely against his chest to keep him from downing. Though his siren had once claimed he could breathe in the Lake, which by the nature of the water here seemed suddenly more possible than before, Arthur wasn't keen on testing the theory. His gaze started wandering again, touching the shore and the tree-line, and being drawn back to the eerie mist dancing several paces in front of them.

They appeared to be alone. Enclosed in a new refugium far away from prying eyes and duty. No other creature had shown itself yet, not even fish between their feet. The prophesized danger had yet to occur. Still, Arthur could feel something pricking in the back of his neck. It was not the feeling of somebody watching them, more the notion that something was aware of their presence but waiting to reveal itself.

Shuddering lightly he brought Merlin closer, already starting to question the ridiculous situation he had brought them into. Riding three days south only to be standing in the middle of a magical lake, hoping for anything to happen.

There had not been any reaction so far. Neither from Merlin, nor from the water. No glowing light had wrapped itself around the siren's body, no tendrils of mist had come to gift him with new life. Arthur had no indication for the effectiveness of his plan. Releasing a sigh, equally laced with hopelessness and desperation, he lowered his gaze back to Merlin's face and stopped.

Two golden orbs were peering at him.

For a moment his arms gave out and he lost his grip on Merlin. But before his head could slip under water Arthur's trained reflexes kicked in and he hauled him up again, circling Merlin's hips in a secure embrace. They were face to face now, their bodies crushed together, their noses almost touching. Merlin's eyes had gone wider, some of the gold giving way to familiar blue over the shock. Arthur could feel short breaths ghosting over his skin. They were drawn from soft lips filled with blood, colour and life. Life that had come back to Merlin with full force, painting his skin in the beautiful milk white, so inviting to be caressed, and brightening his eyes with more than magic.

Silence hung between them, tense like a bow string about to snap. Arthur's breath calmed down but he didn't dare to speak, afraid to destroy something that could only be an illusion. So he left it to Merlin to raise his voice.

"You found the Lake", he stated, sounding quite surprised.

The statement seemed almost ridiculous to Arthur's ears and he would have laughed and rolled his eyes if the circumstances had been different. But now his chest was filling up with joy and relief, short from bursting, and nothing else mattered.

"Of course I did. Was there any doubt?" he jested, playing confident where he had been in despair.

But Merlin stayed serious.

"I was worried for you. I don't remember most of the journey or how we got here", he replied, destress laced with his tone.

Shaking his head Arthur raised an arm of the water to let his fingers tangle themselves in Merlin's hair.

"It's no wonder. You slept all the time and I had to drag you out here", he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

The smile that tugged on Merlin's lips gave the indication that it worked.

"Prat", he countered, using the familiar pet name unexpectedly.

Merlin had established it at some point in summer, always hinting at Arthur when he was becoming cranky, too demanding or just overstepped a line. To hear it now brought a rush of delightful memories back and the emotions that were tied to them flooded his heart.

He shook his head slightly, wondering when he had become so sappy.

"It's good to have you back", he said fondly. "Now let's get out of the water."

Ruffling Merlin's hair he finally loosened his embrace and turned around, a hand on Merlin's elbow, to guide him towards the beach. Their pace was slow, both of them wrestling against the pressure that came from all sides. Merlin lost his footing once or twice, his legs still a little too weak to hold him up properly.

When their feet touched dry ground again Arthur breathed out in relief. The Lake was enchantingly beautiful but also eerie and uncanny in ways that defied description. It was probably unwise to frequent it for an extended bath.

His pace became a little faster in the prospect of fresh clothing but as he reached the spot where his cloak was still spread out Merlin was not next to him anymore. Looking around searchingly his eyes were drawn to his siren standing only a few feet away between Arthur and the water's edge. Merlin did neither move nor speak. His gaze was resting on Arthur, just watching calmly, longingly with those wide azur orbs, giving the young king an unsettling feeling. Droplets of water were dripping from his fingers to create dark patches in the sand next to his feet while wet fabric clung tightly to Merlin's lean body. It was strange, Arthur thought, how Merlin seemed to be taller and older than before while maintaining the appearance he had since they met.

"Merlin? What's wrong-", he started out but was interrupted.

"You kissed me, back then."

"What?"

"You kissed me, in the brook. When it was summer."

Merlin's voice was husky, quiet, as if he had difficulties to speak his thoughts. Arthur's bows furrowed, his heart beating slightly harder behind his ribs.

"Yes, I did", he confirmed, confused.

It was hard to determine Merlin's mood. He didn't seem mad but there was also no smile splitting his features.

"You didn't do it again. It was just this once", Merlin continued, keeping Arthur's gaze locked.

Arthur took a step towards him, careful, to not spook him. The siren's eyes had taken on a stronger shimmer, many emotions playing out beyond them, telling Arthur what Merlin was unable to say.

"I was not sure if you would've wanted me to. I didn't want to take advantage of you-"

"But I wanted you to...take advantage", Merlin interrupted, suddenly moving towards Arthur, as if woken from his stupor. "I waited for you to do it again."

They stood very close, breathing the same air, and in Merlin's face, written plain as day, a deep desire that Arthur had never recognised before, that he might have forcibly ignored out of reservations and chivalry.

"I waited", Merlin continued, only whispering now, "every day that we went into the forest and every night we were close in your bed. I waited for you to do the things that mortals seem to do when they..."

"When they what?" Arthur pushed.

Merlin seemed to battle with himself, pursing his lips for a moment before the words broke free of their confines.

"...when they love."

Later Arthur would have no recollection of the the events that followed Merlin's confession. He just knew that his heart was about to break free from his rib cage when suddenly Merlin's hands wrapped themselves around the back of his head and their lips crushed together in a clumsy kiss.

For a second Arthur was frozen by the determination and impatience of Merlin's touches, his mind still catching on while his body got what it had wanted for a long time, but the warmth of those soft lips and Merlin's almost frustrated sigh when Arthur wouldn't move melted the hesitation away. Pushing his tongue into Merlin's mouth he was finally allowed to taste it again, the sweet and ripe flavour he had been dreaming about since that summer day. Almost like the raspberry he devoured in the forest it was sugary and sour, fueling his desire for so much more.

The wet clothes were a hassle but as soon as Merlin lay before him, glowing in the moonlight, his paleness creating a sharp contrast to Arthur's red cloak covering the sand, he forgot everything that was or could be. Falling in between Merlin's legs he brought his lips and hands to the quivering body; kissing, sucking, licking the smooth texture of his skin Saltiness flooded his mouth at first but beneath he discovered the flavour of honey and berries, the odour of apple orchards and a cool stream on a sultry day.

All the while Merlin was shivering and mewling under him, babbling incoherently, his long fingers tangling themselves into Arthur's blonde strands, tugging and groping, sometimes painfully so when Arthur's teeth greeted his sensitive skin with a teasing bite. But there was never a sign of hesitation, never an anxious word or a touch to make the king stop. So he went on, sucking Merlin's beautiful pink cock into his mouth, like a parched man finally having found a spring to quell his thirst. The ministrations had Merlin bucking up violently, a confused shout reaching Arthur's ears, the hard length being shoved deeper into his throat. But he welcomed the intrusion, unable to get enough of the pungent flavour. Pushing Merlin's restless hips to the ground Arthur took his fill. His tongue discovered every inch of the delicate flesh, messaging the whole length from root to tip before pressing into the slit to taste bittersweet pearls gathering there.

Arthur was drunk. Intoxicated and dizzy he had lost comprehension of time or place, unsure where they were or how long it had been. But he also didn't care. He was trapped in bliss and would have gladly died with Merlin's moans caressing his ears if his siren hadn't put an end to his ministrations. It took him several long heartbeats to notice the increasingly insistent tugging on his hair and his head finally caught up with the fact that the sounds of enjoyment were interrupted by his name flowing pleadingly and broken from Merlin's mouth.

As if he had been on the verge of drowning Arthur pulled gulps of air into his lungs while coming face to face with his decidedly more rumpled looking lover. Smiling fondly he smoothed Merlin's locks down and caught his breath.

"What is it, Love? Didn't you like my mouth on you?"

Merlin's eyes were lazily hooded, his lids only granting a silver of the deep blue underneath. He appeared to be quite out of it, making Arthur vaguely remorseful for going so fast.

But Merlin shook his head.

"I want to taste you", he said raspily.

Arthur's face, still cradled by Merlin's hands, was tugged down until their lips met for a crushing kiss that had Arthur's body tingle as if he was a boy again. Merlin angled his head slightly, opening his mouth to suck Arthur's bottom lip between his teeth. The cautious bite had his arousal spike and his blood rush towards his lap. Arthur's hips twitched hard and sudden, his cock rubbing against Merlin's. They both shuddered, deepening the kiss further. Merlin's tongue was in his mouth now, still a little clumsy but dominating nonetheless. He could feel the slim hips beneath him starting to move hesitantly but gaining confidence when Arthur joined in, speeding up the rhythm with growing excitement. Being trapped between their stomachs and rubbing against each other their cocks received perfect friction, sliding easily in Arthur's spit and their combined precome.

Stabilising himself with one arm, fingers tangling themselves in the Merin's hair, Arthur slid one hand under his lower back to press them even further together. They groaned into the wet heat created between them when the pressure increased, the slide of their bodies becoming unbearably intense, the world shrinking down to this sensation. Merlin's hips grew impatient then, bucking up unexpectedly strong, a desperate whimper being pushed between their lips. The soft sound pierced through Arthur, bringing a shudder down his spine, his rhythm faltering as his motions became ragged. There was no control left in him for finesse. Just grinding down into Merlin's lap he pushed his tongue back into the heavy sweetness of his mouth before he finally tumbled over the edge.

Searing heat spread between them, Arthur groaning with relief, his hips twitching to ride out his climax. Merlin's length was still hard, his hips still moving, still chasing release and Arthur wanted nothing more than to gift it. Creating some space between them he wrapped his hand around Merlin's weeping cock to stroke him to completion. The combination of precome and Arthur's seed made the glide of his fingers easy, Merlin growing wild under him with the touch to his overly sensitive flesh. He came with a scream, finally breaking their kiss to suck in desperately needed air to feed more moans of overwhelming pleasure into the night.

The sky was hung with millions of lights. They clustered together in cloud-like formations or formed bright points, drawing curious shapes into the darkness.

Merlin had almost forgotten how colourful the nights were close to the Gates. On his ordeal, journeying unwillingly through the mortal world, the stars had seemed less, plastered onto black surface. But at Avalon's edge a veil seemed to be lifted to grant the eye a look into a whirlwind of different shades.

Lying sated in his afterglow next to his king he still felt his body prickle with the remnants of sensations Arthur's touch had conjured. It had been overwhelming, wiping his mind till nothing was left; no sorrow, no pain, no desire, and all he could feel was intense bliss ripping him apart. Afterwards a kind of numbness had overcome him, so he had resigned himself to just lie there while Arthur's mouth and hands kept mapping his skin, obviously hungry for more. Now his king was lying at his side, one arm draped almost possessively over Merlin's stomach, his calm breath tingling his Merlin's ear.

"So, tell me Love, who told you about mortal pleasures?"

The question had Merlin smirk. Of course Arthur would be curious.

"I have seen much more than you might be aware of on my way to Camelot", he answered cryptically.

Turning his head Merlin caught Arthur's gaze. As ever so often in vulnerable moments between them his emotions were written clearly into his features and Merlin was finally capable to distinguish them.

"No worries, my king. The circus folks were just a little less reserved when it came to...showing their affection for one another. As were most villagers. I merely saw them sometimes without their notice."

A smug grin appeared on Arthur's face.

"I didn't know you had a voyeurish streak on you", he teased, one hand stroking Merlin's tummy, bringing goosebumps to his skin.

Heat rose in Merlin's cheeks, colouring them in a slight shade of pink. To avoid Arthur's curious eyes and any further mockery he returned his gaze to the stars.

"What else was there to do when I was locked in a cage most of the day? So I studied mortals and their ways of love-making… Gwen's tongue might have slipped, too, a few times when she was drunk on one of the summer festivals", he added, remembering fondly his friend's flush face while she was telling him about her tumbles with several servants, male and female, giggling tremendously the more mead she consumed.

Arthur huffed a short gust of air against his cheek before pushing himself off the ground, invading Merlin's vision.

"You mean Guinevere? Morgana's maid? Sweet, innocent Guinevere?" he inquired incredulously.

Furrowing his brows, Merlin nodded.

"Though I don't know what innocence has to do with it; but yes, sweet Guinevere."

The grin almost cut Arthur's face in two now. He shook his head.

"Who would've thought…", he mumbled, assumingly to himself, before descending slowly, covering Merlin's body with his own, his lips starting to nibble at Merlin's throat.

Heart pumping faster again Merlin could feel warmth rush to his loins, waking his cock. Shuddering he bared his neck.

"So, what do sirens do in terms of love making?" Arthur managed to ask between kisses.

Merlin's mind had to catch up with the question, distracted by the king's fingers ghosting over his hips.

"We...hah...we make less use of our bodies. It's more a connection of our mentalities-"

He bucked when Arthur's teeth sunk into the flesh directly above his collarbone, Arthur's lips pressing down to suck the skin into his mouth. How could those simple touches have his mind spinning in such a manner?

"That doesn't sound very tempting", Arthur commented after being satisfied with the mark he had created.

But Merlin was too distracted to counter. Arthur's question had raised a different thought, worries that he had shoved far away and buried under lust and desire. They had been at the shore for quite a while without any interruption. It might be a lucky coincidence that none of his kin had made an appearance yet but this luck would run out. Arthur needed to leave.

Unfortunately the king had other plans, already having moved on to Merlin's nipples and unwilling to let go of the pert buds. Merlin moaned in surprise upon the ministration but fought to keep his mind on the task.

"Arthur", he reprimanded, trying to push him up by his shoulders. "Arthur, you should leave."

"It's still dark", Arthur objected. "We should wait till morning. It's much safer to travel by day."

"But my brothers and sisters could be upon us every moment. We have dwelled much too long", Merlin insisted but his words were falling on deaf ears.

Obviously unimpressed Arthur blew on one of the nipples he had worked so well and watched awfully self-satisfied as Merlin arched underneath him, his pale fingers ripping into the fabric of the cloak that was still serving as their bedstead. Merlin could feel his hips beginning to shift on their own volition, his hardening cock rubbing against Arthur muscled thigh which pressed so perfectly in between his legs. Thoughts of concern for Arthur's safety were struggling to cling to the surface of his mind but failed to be properly voiced when the king started suck another mark just beneath Merlin's rib cage. Whimpering and panting Merlin shook his head in a futile attempt to gain control over his heated body. He knew that he needed to come to his senses, to shove Arthur off and get it into his thick head that he had to go, and when the cursed mouth finally let go of him for a heartbeat he believed it possible. Then Arthur's hand slipped below his groin, squeezing his testicles while dipping a finger into the sensitive space behind and wet lips closed around his cock, sucking it right down to the root. Merlin cursed, throwing his head back into the sand, all thoughts of departure forgotten, drowned by serenity.

Something was wrong. Merlin felt it in his guts before he was even aware of time and place. His mind kept dipping under the surface of his consciousness, preventing him from making sense of the situation. Soreness made itself known in his back, beneath him neither mattress nor forest floor. The ground seemed simultaneously soft and hard, confusing him even further. Then he smelled it. Water. And not any kind. It was the ancient scent of the Lake he had been tied to since he was born. The Lake Arthur had brought him back to in order to save him.

Arthur!

Merlin ripped his eyes open, one hand already groping the cloak next to him. The spot was empty. His vision still blurry he whipped his head around. There was Hengrön, close to the tree line, but the horse was looking into the opposite direction, his head cocked up, ears directed towards the front in interest. With dread forming an uncomfortable knot in his chest Merlin followed the gaze of those soft brown eyes out onto the Lake and his heart gave a painful jolt.

Out there, a few paces from the shore, was his king, surrounded by several of his brothers and sisters. Arthur appeared unconscious, his naked body floating just above the surface, held up by tendrils of flowing water coiled tightly around his limbs. About twenty of his siblings were drawing in, pulling the noose tighter every second, already stretching their hands towards the young king. The ones closest to Arthur had completely surfaced; walking on the water they might have appeared like faeries dancing on the lakes at night. Others, farther away, were still partially subdued, only slowly rising up to hunt their prey. The scene revealed the trap they had walked into as soon as they had reached the Lake. The sirens had felt them coming and they had invited them, patiently lurking in the shadows. As Merlin had feared from the beginning, his kin had smelled what Arthur was and waited for him to become vulnerable enough to enchant. Their coupling and the deep sleep which followed had created the perfect opportunity.

Merlin stumbled to his feet, his legs trembling from lack of use but he felt his strength returning fast now that he was at the source of his magic. Taking the first insecure steps towards the water, his heart racing, he shouted Arthur's name. His voice sounded hollow in his ears, not powerful but weak and scared. He wouldn't impress them like that. Shaking his head forcefully to get rid of any lingering dizziness Merlin squared his shoulders, his steps growing more confident.

It was strange when he felt the Lake's surface under his feet for the first time again, the water not surrounding him, drowning him, instead bowing to him. Here, in this place - his 'home' - Merlin remembered one fundamental truth. Despite human emotions and desire having found root in his heart, despite his empathy for mortals who had helped him and the love he felt for Arthur he was still a Siren of Avalon, born to create beautiful dreams but also capable of conjuring terrifying nightmares which could turn a sane man into a babbling, drooling fool. He was a hunter and he had staked his claim on the mortal king a long time ago. He had no intention to yield it now.

Merlin's feet carried him fast and safely towards Arthur, the water barely touching his soles. A few of his kin had already noticed his approach, faltering in their steps, but his siblings near the king were completely immersed in his smell and promise, unaware of anything besides their prize. Freya was the first to reach Arthur's sleeping form. She was a delicate creature, her hazelnut strands falling in waves down her fragile body, her small hands reaching gingerly for Arthur's face. Even from afar Merlin could see her pupils widen when she finally touched the half-siren, mesmerised by the energy she must surely feel in him. Merlin was almost close enough now. More sirens reached the king, laying their greedy clutches on the golden skin to get a glimpse of who he was. Deep down Arthur must have felt the intrusion because he started to writhe unconsciously under their touch, struggling against the water's confines, a whine clawing itself out from his throat.

A wave of anger crashed over Merlin and on an instinct unknown even to himself he opened his mouth to release a hysteric shriek, almost painful to his own ears, and piercing the air like a blade. The sirens violating Arthur's body were taken by surprise, the impact crashing into them with full force, throwing them off the king and into the Lake. The rest of his kin drew back, fright and confusion playing upon their faces, but still lingering on the edge of Merlin's vision. He didn't care about them. His shriek had not only expelled the unwanted hands from Arthur but also severed the tendrils that had trapped him and held him up. Now he fell, limp like a puppet, into Merlin's arms. He embraced him from behind, sinking to his knees with Arthur's head resting on his shoulder. After he had ensured that no harm had come to his king his eyes shot up again, fixating the brothers and sisters in the vicinity. After the first initial shock they had stalked near them again, but held a respectful distance.

"Stay away from him, all of you! He is mine!" Merlin hissed, his eyes glowing brightly golden, his fingers digging into Arthur's skin as if he was freshly culled game.

"Who says that he is yours?" Freya challenged him bolty, jutting her chin forward.

"I have made the bond. You can not take him."

"Prove it", she said defiantly, others nodding their heads.

Merlin didn't hesitate. The faster he could convince them of their slim chances the faster he could get Arthur away from here. Biting into the tip of his index finger he drew blood to paint over Arthur's chapped lips. Anticipation rose with every breath among the crowd, each one leaning in for a better view on the red staining the mortal while they awaited an effect. It started slowly, the bloody droplets shimmering innocently in the moonlight for several seconds only to illuminate in a sudden flare and sink into Arthur's skin, leaving no trace behind.

"You have been gone a long time", Ivina mused.

She was crouching down a few feet left of Merlin, an elbow resting on one of her knees, holding up her chin. With white hair reaching far beyond her dark shoulders, playing around her elegant legs, a mortal would most likely not think her a threat, but Merlin knew her well and had seen what power lay in her slim form.

"Mortals have caught me too far from the Lake. It took time to get back."

Merlin didn't elaborate on his answer. They didn't need to know about the hardships of his journey and how they had changed him. They had no right to his and Arthur's story, their bond, their love.

"How lucky you were to find one of the Forbidden. And to manipulate him to follow you here, so you could claim your prize."

Cocking her head, Ivinas eyes mustered him curiously but Merlin didn't take her bait. They all had seen Arthur take his unconcious form to the Lake and they all had witnessed their love-making at the shore. Maybe not each of them understood the indications but Ivina did. She was too clever and Merlin needed to get out of here.

"So, are you going to sacrifice him? Give the filthy half-siren's soul to Avalon, so they will grant you entrance to the Eternal Fields?" Freya asked, irritation lacing her words.

She was getting impatient. They all were. Even the ones who had fled were creeping closer now, forgetting fear and respect over the most valuable prey they had ever seen. Merlin was getting nervous, anxiety rising in his chest. The tension was thickening, coiling in the air like a poisonous snake ready to strike.

"I will", he growled at her, "as soon as I'm rid of my audience."

That didn't sit well with most of them and he should have known. But desperation was growing inside him, feeding the beast that was ready to kill even his own kin to protect his king, while being afraid that Arthur himself would get hurt in the process.

"You know what I think?"

Ivina had risen to her feet, taking a few steps towards Merlin.

"I think you are lying. And if you are not going to use him then I will."

She snapped at him, baring her teeth so he could see her sharp fangs growing. Her eyes took on an icy glow, piercing Merlin to the core. It was a warning and a threat meant to intimidate him, meant to scare him from his spoils. Finally her nails lengthened, her fingers stretching like claws ready to rip through flesh and bone. Becoming more animal than siren she growled deeply, hunching her back and bending her knees, prepared for attack. A threatening snarl left Merlin, hairs rising on his body, the aggressive atmosphere forcing his instincts to take control. He could feel his canines and nails shaping themselves into lethal weapons though they wouldn't be very helpful. He couldn't fight with Arthur in his arms but abandoning him to attack Ivina was not an option, too many of his siblings creeping in to steal his king away. Getting to his feet, he hauled Arthur's limp body with him as well as he could, receding slightly, spitting a hiss at his sister's approaching form.

"He is tied to me and you cannot break that bond", Merlin insisted, attempting to buy himself some time.

"The bond can be severed."

"Then you will be punished!"

Ivina laughed, a sound sharp and full of arrogance.

"I will give Avalon one of their despised bastards to perche from this world and the next. They won't care for the rules. And now stop stalling. It's time to end this!"

Throwing her head back, she spit a shriek towards the moon, hitting a note high and crooked, letting the air vibrate and birds swarming from the trees. The sound tortured Merlin's ears but he didn't dare to shield them lest he would lose his grip on Arthur. When Ivina's face snapped forward again he knew the time was up. More of his kin had circled him from behind, leaving no way out. He would have to fight and defend as well as he could. Maybe, if he managed to injure his sister severely, drawing enough blood to demonstrate how far he was willing to go, they would recoil and flee. Taking one of his arms from Arthur's slowly rising chest he drew it back, over his head, ready to strike. He could see the muscles tensing under Ivina's skin, another heartbeat and she would be on him like a wild beast.

But she was interrupted.

Another battle cry caught their attention and suddenly Freya was on her, claws already grazing her face before Ivina could grab her wrists to wrestle them away. Eyes brightly green, burning like acid, Freya went mad, snarling and struggling to get out of her hold. Ivina was obviously taken by surprise. Usually she was stronger than their much smaller sister but now her knees were buckling, Ivina barely managing to push her away.

"By the gods! Freya, what has taken hold of you?" she screamed.

"I touched the half-blood first. He is MY claim!" Freya shouted back, before attempting to bite Ivina's hand.

Screaming in agony when Freya's fangs sunk into her skin she loosened her grip on her opponent's hands. Fighting hard, she freed her abused arm from her sister's teeth only to strike out and throw her off, leaving bloody claw marks on her cheek.

"A touch is worth nothing! I was the one who challenged our brother, so I'm the one who has the right to fight him and break the bond!"

Unconcerned by the argument, Freya only growled deeply, ignoring the pain that must spread through her face. Her desire for Arthur's soul had taken control of her mind, leaving no room for rational thought and Ivina knew as well as Merlin that she wouldn't give up until she had what she wanted or died trying.

Their remaining kin had pulled themselves into a tight circle around the scene, curiously watching the events unfold. Merlin could detect their excitement fueling the aggressive energy hovering between their sisters, their combined bloodlust sending a shiver down his back. Caught day in day out in the repetitiveness of their punishment, his kin was keen for something to break the ever looping cycle and distract them from their grim reality. Merlin would be forced to watch helplessly as his sisters turned on eachother, folding their bodies into a screeching ball of claws, fangs and hatred. Nobody would dare to impede on this struggle for dominance.

Nobody but one.

Otherwordly winds rose above the Lake, caressing their skin and tangling their hair. It asked the mist to dance, twirling the ghostly shapes over the water's surface and reflecting the motions far into the well known depths. Soundless, a figure emerged from the lingering veil. Golden locks twisting over fair shoulders, their stride was confident, round hips swinging leisurely, unhurriedly. An arm was lifted and a palm pointed towards the scene.

"ENOUGH!"

The command echoed low and daunting around the Lake, drawing their eyes away from the fight and the air from their lungs. An invisible force hit their growling sisters, knocking Freya and Ivina off their feet. As soon as they lost eye contact the aggressive energy unloaded, dissolving completely and leaving them perplexed on their backs. The crowd of sirens parted under excited whispers while bowing their heads in due respect. Into their middle walked Igraine, the oldest among their kin. With a look if disapprovement she considered her younger siblings, lying bloody and rumpled before her.

"Your behaviour is disgraceful and I won't let you kill each other over this petty dispute."

Ivina and Freya got to their knees but kept their gaze firmly on the ground. Nothing was left of the beasts that had been fighting only seconds ago, their eyes normal now, fangs and claws having retreated. Still, Ivina was proud, unwilling to let go off the desired prey.

"Merlin is unwilling to sacrifice the half-blood. He should be punished and the spoils falling to somebody else-"

"Quiet", Igraine commanded, ignoring Ivina's frustrated hiss.

"I do not care for your reasons. Our brother has formed a bond with this mortal, creating a claim undeniable. It is not for you to decide how he should fare. Is that understood?"

The question left no place for further argument and even their proud sister had to accept when a battle was lost. Both of them nodding curtly they admitted defeat. Igraine's gaze lingered on them for another moment, daring them to speak up again. When nothing happened she swapped her eyes over the rest of the crowd, taking in the wary expressions of her kin.

"This fight is over. You have all seen the shame of your sisters and I hope you will learn from it. Now go and rest since dawn is almost upon us."

None of the bystanders would be bold enough to object and attract Igraine's wrath. Instead the crow dispersed quietly, his brothers and sisters first walking on the water towards the misty center before gingerly sinking under the surface. Ivina was the last to leave. Her icy glare fell on Merlin once again but she fought the urge to strangle him. Hurrying past Igraine, she broke into a swift run before diving arms first into the water.

Granting himself a moment of relief, Merlin released a gush of air from his lungs. The tension bled from his limbs and shoulders, his legs giving out, sinking to the cool ground beneath, still clutching Arthur tightly to his chest. While the wild magic coiling inside him receded, the gold of his eyes faded to blue and he felt his elongated nails and canines grow back to their usual size. Looking up to his oldest sister, he was aware that she could still be a threat to Arthur's safety but there was one reason he trusted her to not harm the young king.

As soon as the last of their kin had vanished into the Lake Igraine's demeanor changed. The harsh air crumbled around her, making her seem smaller and softer than before. Taking the last few steps towards the couple crouched before her, she sunk to her knees. Under Merlin's blatand stare she brought a hand up to Arthur's cheek and stroked it gently with her thumb.

"Arthur…", she whispered.

The coldness was gone from her eyes, replaced by kindness and longing. Shimmering brightly. her pale blue orbs spoke of many tears unshed and a sadness rooting deeply in her memory. Her other hand found its way to Merlin's cheek, and though taken by surprise, he pressed his face into her warm palm, sighing fainty. When he opened his lids again, after a moment of enjoyment, he found Igraine looking at him fondly.

"Thank you, Merlin, for granting me a look at my son."

Her hand slipped away, so she could cradle Arthur's face between her palms. Leaning forward, she breathed a chaste kiss onto his lips, uttering soft words of siren tongue against them. Arthur started tensing in Merlin's arms, unintelligible mumbles rolling from his mouth, his mind fighting its way back into wakefulness. A sudden groan announced his success and he opened his eyes to Igraine.

The first thing he saw, as his vision cleared, were two eyes, translucent like crystals. Their gaze, unwavering in its intensity, was almost uncanny, crawling under Arthur's skin and creating the impression that they could see all of him. A few seconds later, after his mind had rid itself from the remaining veil of sleep, he became aware that they, in fact, could. Because he was naked. Arthur shot up, trying clumsily to cover himself but failed when his attention was drawn to Merlin, who's arms he could feel reassuringly encircling his chest. He, too, was still divested of any fabric but seemed comfortable enough in this state while resting on his knees. His knees which were resting on water.

Arthur's gaze dropped to the ground, an undignified shout jumping out of his mouth. He flailed, afraid to sink below the surface any moment, attempting swimming motions and trying to save himself before he was even drowning.

"Arthur! Arthur! Calm down. Everything is fine", he could hear Merlin insisting.

"What is going on?" he croaked out, still struggling to get his bearings.

He felt one of Merlin's hands stroking his arm soothingly to ground Arthur in this new, very disturbing reality.

"We're still at the Lake, or more specifically; we're on the Lake", Merlin tried to explain, "There was a minor incident but you're safe now."

Arthur was having troubles to follow the implications of being 'on the Lake' without a boat but the term 'incident' directed his attention away from the matter.

"An incident? What incident?"

Panic was threatening to overwhelm him and once again Arthur attempted to free himself from the hands wrapped around his arms in a sudden urge to scan the area for impeding foes. But Merlin's chastising shout held him back.

"Arthur! I told you everything's fine. It's over and you have nothing to fear", he said firmly.

His clear blue eyes caught Arthur's once more, willing him to finally let go. Huffing with exasperation, Arthur shook his head, forcing himself to take in the situation with a clear mind. Eying Merlin up and down, he came to the conclusion that his siren was unharmed, the thought lifting some of the tautness straining his muscles, leaving room for him to notice how unfamiliar hands were holding one of his gently.

They belonged to a woman, her face framed by unruly curls. A small smile was playing around her lips as she looked at him with so much fondness he felt his heart aching.

"Who...who are you?" he stuttered, his thoughts riling with the familiarity of her features.

Her strong jaw and high cheekbones, the shade of her hair like ripe corn at the end of summer, the sky blue of her eyes and the sun kissed colour of her skin. He felt he should know her but was absolutely sure he had never met her before. It was maddening.

Upon his question the women shuffled backwards to grant him a better look at her, but neither their eyes nor their hands lost contact.

"Arthur, this...this is your mother", Merlin uttered close to his ear.

Everything went blank.

Thoughts and mind, feelings and soul, it was all wiped clean for an unending second. He did not hear nor see anything but Merlin's declaration and the creature before him. Breathtakingly beautiful, but with her features shaped so much like his own. Or no, it must be the other way around. He had been shaped after her. But it was impossible. It couldn't be. His mother was-

"-dead", he mumbled, shaking his head. "My mother is dead. She died in childbirth."

The woman's smile changed, hurt mixing with the deep kindness she was still directing at him.

"I knew your father would find a way to hide the truth, not only from you but from everyone", she answered his objections, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"When I vanished right after your birth, I knew I broke his heart. Just as much as it broke mine. But I had to leave."

Her eyes were pleading now, filled with sincerity, begging Arthur to believe her. He felt her grip tighten on his hand while her smile faded completely.

"I'm sorry that I left you."

Arthur's mind was in denial while his heart was prepared to believe out of the sheer desire to find his mother alive and well, out of his childish wish to have her hold him just one time like he would see other children be embraced by their mothers. His mother had died as he was born. It was known amongst the people of Camelot. But still, when he had grown older and started to ask questions nobody could recollect the events clearly. As long as he could remember his father shut Arthur down whenever he begged for the smallest silver of knowledge about her. And even Gaius was unable to produce a satisfying answer. The circumstances of his mother's death had always been shrouded in mystery as much as her identity, her grave having never been visited by the king in all those years.

A shiver creeped down his naked body though the air was still warm around them. Merlin's breath was caressing his cheek and Arthur knew he needed reassurance to grant himself the believe that he had found what had been lost for so long.

"Merlin", he almost begged without taking the eyes off the woman in front of him, afraid she might vanish.

The hand that had been stroking his arm made its way to his back to move in soothing circles until Arthur could feel its warmth spreading over his skin.

"It's alright, Arthur. She is truly your mother. Trust me."

As if they had just waited for permission to fall, tears welled up in his eyes and pushed beyond his lids in heavy droplets, wetting his cheeks while making their path further down, jumping off his jaw one by one to grow into a small pool on his bare chest. Though Merlin's hand was still there, still a comfort, suddenly his rib cage felt too tight, his breath coming in short and shallow bursts. Without a conscious decision his arms stretched forward, raising his hands towards this stranger, his mother, who had been only a fantasy until this day. He needed to touch her. Embrace her tightly to know that she was real and not conjured by siren-magic to reap his soul and leave his body to rot.

Arthur whimpered when his limbs failed to cooperate. He was fighting to get to his knees, to fall into her open arms but it was unnecessary. She was his mother and for her he never had to beg or cry to be held. Suddenly she was pressed against him, her scent and warmth, her soft breasts and silken skin, all around him, hugging him with all her strength and he welcomed her. Pulling her slim form into his arms he circled her back and pushed his nose into the crook of her neck, just breathing her in, just experiencing what it was like to be held by someone who loved you with such unconditional devotion.

"My son...Arthur…", he heard her mumble and just hugged her even firmer, a sob freeing itself from his throat, his heart too overwhelmed to make sense of his colliding emotions.

Here he was, at The Lake of Avalon, at the doorstep to the Gates that led into the afterlife. He had made this journey to save a siren whom he had come to cherish more than anything else in his entire life, only to learn that the person he had dreamed of meeting almost everyday since he was born was a siren herself. If joy had not already been occupying all of his heart and mind he would have been able to laugh about the odds. His mother, a creature of magic. Her blood was running through his veins. When the thought crossed Arthur's head, his body entangled with hers, the events since Merlin's arrival started to make sense. Arthur's immunity to his enchantments, his ability to see the magic flow from him, and the bond he had felt building between them, marvelous and devine, filling his heart with everything he could ever desire.

"My wonderful child, I prayed to be granted a glimpse at you, even if it was just for a moment. And my prayers have been answered."

Her fingers carded through his hair. The simple gesture made delight burst in his chest, creating his wish to stay forever in her embrace. But her hands started pushing him away all too soon and she forced him to look into her ice blue orbs, filled to the brim by withheld tears.

"It pains me to let you go but you can't stay here any longer", she said, her features full of regret.

"What? No!"

Grabbing onto her upper arms, he wanted to keep her near, keep her from leaving him again.

"We have only just met and I have so many questions-"

"Oh Arthur!", she spoke with so much love swinging in his name, it made new tears well up.

"Believe me when I say that I don't want you to leave."

Slim hands were lowered onto his face, framing it softly.

"I wish nothing more than for you to stay. And I wish I could tell you about a time when I escaped this confined place and my life of punishment to go into the world, in the hopes to leave it all behind. I want to tell you how I met your father when I was almost dying and what a charming man he was, taking me home and making me his wife despite of knowing what I was. And how I bore him a son, brilliant and golden, stealing my heart the moment I laid eyes on him."

Unable to speak, Arthur's mouth hung open. Only staring at her he struggled to comprehend what she was confessing.

"But...if you loved me that much then why...why did you abandon me?"

Closing her eyes, his mother allowed the tears to fall at last. He watched them drawing glistening streaks onto her flushed face, his heart thumping in agony.

Straining to find the right words she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"It was for the same reason you brought me here", Merlin answered in her stead. "She was dying and this was her only chance to survive."

She nodded tightly but Arthur sensed that there was another reason for her to return.

"But as soon as you were better, couldn't you have come back?" the naive question bubbling from his tongue.

The slow, regretful shake of her head made him chastise himself for the selfish demand. It sounded like he wanted to blame her though he was clueless what life at Camelot had been for her. He was about to apologise when she spoke up again.

"We are bound to the Lake for a reason, and the forces of Avalon don't fare kindly with those who stay away for too long. That's why we die if we don't return. And I also could not risk anybody finding out that I had born the child of a mortal. They would have killed you if they had found you. And now you know why you have to leave. Our brothers and sisters don't know yet who you are, but they will grow suspicious if your smell keeps lingering."

Urgency was laced into her tone. Drawing away from Arthur, she got to her feet and signaled them to follow her. Disoriented by the loss of her touch and the fact that he was walking over water, he grabbed Merlin's hand to let his siren guide him safely to shore. His mother was waiting for them, standing only a few feet away from the place of their coupling. While walking towards her, Arthur could find himself wondering if she could smell it. Heat shot up to his head, his embarrassment not helped by the fact that all three of them were still lacking any garment.

Adjusting his to look firmly to her face, he stepped before her. But his mother's gaze was not on him, instead focusing on Merlin. Her features sharpened, the soft fondness melting away to reveal a solemn expression.

"Merlin", she addressed him sternly, her voice lower now, grave, "you have not only left the Lake without permission, in your absence you have also found one of the Forbidden. But instead of sacrificing his soul to Avalon, like your duty commands, and finding entrance to the Eternal Realm, you refused our gods' mercy and fell in love with him. Do you confess to these sins?"

Arthur' eyes went wide, his head snapping around to stare at Merlin, prepared to witness horror being edged into his face. But yet again his lover appeared calm and unbroken, as if he believed himself to be invincible.

"Yes, Igraine. I confess."

There was no quiver in his voice, no shaking to indicate any degree of worry or fear.

"Then I will pass your sentence by the power our masters have bestowed upon me as the eldest among our kind. Come to me."

Merlin stepped closer, slipping his palm into Igraine's. Her other hand was raised to cover his forehead, both of them closing their eyes.

Arthur's heart hammered in a nervous rhythm, his body thrumming with it. He had not known that Merlin's return would 'cause him harm. His siren had always spoken of the danger that Arthur would be facing but never admitted to his own, unknown fate. The realisation formed lump in Arthur's throat, tasting of anger to be kept in the dark and fear of what punishment was awaiting Merlin.

When Igraine spoke again Arthur felt Merlin's finger grow tighter around his. With sorrow knotting his insides he strengthened his grip in return, letting Merlin know that he wouldn't have to bear this burden alone.

"Merlin, you are traitor to your kin and traitor to the gods. You will not longer be allowed to dwell in this place and share your life with your brothers and sisters. Instead you will be an outcast. Your powers and immortality stripped off you, you will go to the world of man and be forced to live like a mortal, feel like a mortal, age like a mortal and die like a mortal. After your death you won't be granted entrance to fields of the gods. Instead your soul will go to the afterworld like all mortal souls do, to linger among them for eternity. Do you accept this sentence?"

Arthur's mind went implications her words had to offer made his imagination run wild, hope growing that his mother didn't actually mean to punish Merlin. A little hitch in Merlin's voice upon agreeing with his fate spoke of the same believe.

Igraine took her hands from Merlin. Her features had lost some of the graveness, a smile finding its way back onto her lips.

"Then it is decided. Go now, to continue your new life far away from the Lake, bound forever to the mortal who stole your heart."

"I will", Merlin replied, bowing his head deeply.

Angling her body towards Arthur, he felt her fingers grazing his cheek once more and raised his own to caress them longingly. Her eyes grew soft again when they fell on his, telling Arthur how clearly the unwillingness to depart was written on his face.

"Don't fret, my son. We were given time and touch though we never dreamed of it. Be happy now and feel the joy of having found the one that was meant for you."

He could hardly swallow passed all the things he wanted to say but had to contain. Still, he managed to gift her a smile as he felt Merlin's presence warm and reassuring at his side.

"Thank you", he whispered, not trusting his voice to say more.

With a heavy heart and heat in his eyes he watched the mother he had just found walk gracefully over Avalon's white shores back onto the Lake. One last time she looked back, his pain reflecting plainly in her face.

"I wish you safe return to Camelot, young king. Maybe one day we will have the chance to meet again."

A sudden wind was rising, drawing shapes into the sand and creating ripples on the water. But Igraine herself appeared unfazed by its movement, following her path undisturbed further out, where the billowing mist took her away.

They had collected their clothing without another word, numbed by the haze that had wrapped itself around their minds in the aftermath of the events.

The forest surrounding the Lake didn't appear as dense as before, Arthur thought, when they finally stepped behind the treeline to leave this place of enchantment and illusion behind. Instead of stumbling through tangled undergrowth and ducking beneath branches that seemed bound on gouging their eyes out, they found a lazily winding path guiding them securely through the green labyrinth back into the mortal world.

Arthur was only faintly surprised when they arrived at a small clearing he recognised from their journey. Suspecting that the convenient path was a gift created by his mother, he looked back to thank her once again only to be disappointed. It was gone, as was the lush forest. They were surrounded by bare trees and fruitless bushes. Just like it should be.

Merlin shivered. The smell of winter lay heavy in the air, not quite here but fast approaching. The Lake knew neither season nor coldness; the forest never dying, the water never freezing. Another thing mortals could be pitied for.

A red cloak was draped over his shoulders, its laces tied in front of his chest by careful hands. The fur lining the collar was soft and warm around his neck.

When he looked up Arthur was right in front of him, his eyes shimmering in the light of the rising sun. Merlin could feel himself blush upon the sudden closeness but he didn't shy away. Holding Arthur's gaze, he took everything in his king had to offer. Every hint of desire on his reddening cheeks, every trace of devotion covering the smirking lips, every spark of love blooming in his wakeful eyes. Painted plain as day on Arthur's face, nothing hidden from view, the feelings were open for Merlin to enjoy.

All he needed was to lean in a little bit to steal a chaste kiss from him. But when he tried to pull away a hand slipped into his neck and held him in place. Their lips slid against each other sweet and wet, Arthur's tongue licking hungrily into Merlin's mouth, drawing a small groan from his lover's throat. Weaving his fingers into Arthur's cloak, Merlin cocked his head just lightly to deepen the kiss further, tasting and nipping and sucking until his heart was beating up in his throat and the invading coldness was expelled from his body.

"Let's go home", Arthur said after they had parted again, a blinding smile on his flush lips.

Hengrön had not been fazed by their ordeal. Unperturbed as ever he carried them unhurriedly towards Camelot while Merlin tried to recollect what had happened during Arthur's phase of unconsciousness. The story seemed rather complicated and his lover kept contradicting his own words, fueling Arthur's suspicion that there were some things that Merlin didn't want him to know too well. He decided to lure the truth from him after their return and he interrupted Merlin's babbling with a teasing kiss to his neck, sucking the delicate skin between his lips just to nibble at it for a quiet second. The ramblings cut off almost immediately, Merlin's body tensing shortly before melting into Arthur's embrace with a sigh.

Satisfied by the result of his ministrations the king raised his lips to one of the adorable and slightly flushed ears to whisper.

"Tell me Merlin, even though you are mortal now, would you still sing for me?"

A contemplating pause followed, having Arthur wonder if it was too much to ask so soon after Merlin lost his powers. But the answer showed that he had no reason to worry.

"I would always sing for My King if he were to ask. Though I don't know if I'm still capable."

Upon the sweet words Arthur pressed another kiss to Merlin's earshell, a grin splitting his face.

"Then know that Your King is asking to hear you sing."

Merlin didn't deny him.

His lover's voice had changed. Lost was the siren's alluring tone laced with the otherwordly sheen that would appear with every song. Now the pitch was deeper, touching Merlin's throat in a sonorous husk, insecure and broken, like a boy who dared to sing in somebody else's presence for the first time. This voice spoke of the person he was and the man he would become while carrying the sweetness of the Merlin he knew.

After the song rang out, his own singing almost alien to his ears, Merlin held his breath, afraid of Arthur's reaction, already expecting disappointment to radiate from him. Before him he saw his king's hands releasing the grip on Hengrön's reigns, obviously trusting the gelding to not throw them off at once. Two strong arms wrapped themselves around Merlin's torso, crushing his back into Arthur's chest. Merlin turned his head as far as he could until their faces met only inches apart.

The king's eyes were smiling just as broadly as his mouth. Wrinkles of joy were crinkling in every corner, turning Arthur for only a heartbeat into the carefree boy he must have been once upon a time.

"Well", Arthur said, "at least the world doesn't lose colour anymore. That's always made me nauseous."

Merlin blinked twice before catching up with the joke. A grin spread over his face.

"Prat."

It was the last word uttered between them for a very long time, their lips unwilling to part again until the sun began its descent to bath the sky in her late afternoon glow.

And through all of it Hengrön trotted on, unfazed and unwavering, steady towards home.

The End