clea2011

Nepenthe

Sometimes Merlin just stood looking out across the water. Sometimes, very rarely, Freya came to him.

"Will Arthur ever return?"

"You know he will."

"It's been centuries. How much longer?"

"Ask me anything but that."

"Well then," he whispered. "Give me this. A sleep, and a forgetting."

Freya shook her head. "Death is not for you."

"Please..."

There was a bottle washed up on the shore. He knew it hadn't been there moments before.

"Nepenthe," her voice was fainter now, almost gone. "Only use a few drops."

He unsealed the bottle, hesitated, then drank deeply.

As she'd known he would.