It's been nearly a week since Merlin died. He only knows that because he counted the different types of light that came through the water. Right now, it's moonlight.

He can see a warped image of the moon through the gently rolling water. Its nearly full, only a sliver of darkness remains. Only one more day and it will be a perfect circle.

Merlin likes the moon now. Every time the moon comes out, so does the water spirit. They talk about nothing in particular and just keep each other company. He's even been able to make her smile on a few rare occasions. She reminded him of Freya.

As the moon grew higher and the sliver disappeared, the spirit finally came. She smiled softly as she drifted over to him. He had never seen her smile like this. She looked happy, content.

"Hello," she said as per usual.

"Hello." he answered back with a smile.

"Emrys, I've kept you here too long. Even now Camalot begins to crumble without you. I'm afraid it's time you returned." she turns away and looks toward the shining moon, "and what a beautiful night to do so."

Merlin looks at her in confusion. "I thought you said that it wasn't possible. How am I supposed to get back in my body? It finished healing yesterday, but nothing has happened."

"Yes, well, it seems that I will get to repay you for my mistake." she says rising.

"What do you mean?" Merlin questions.

"I've spoken with the elder spirits of the earth and the old offer still stands. A life lost can be exchanged for the life of a like-being. We are both children of the earth Emrys. We are like-being."

"You don't mean you plan to sacrifice yourself for me?" he asks, "I don't want that! There must be another way."

She just smiles sadly at him. "I'm afraid that the decision has already been made Emrys. Do not worry, I am sacrificing very little. I will not be long remembered and that is fine by me. I am tired Emrys, and I intend to rest."

"But what about your waters?" he asks in a frantic attempt to stop her.

"They existed before me and they will exist after me. As for my blessing, I leave it with you. Every drop of water, no matter where it be now, that has passed through my pool will be yours to command. To heal or destroy is up to you."

"Please don't. You can stay, and I'll stay with you please!"

"I'm sorry Emrys." She says quietly.

She closes her eyes and opens her arms to the moon.

"Mother Luna, I am yours." she whispers to the sky.

She begins to glow brighter and brighter until her radiance matches the moon.

Suddenly Merlin can't see. He is trapped in darkness and silence.

____________________________

When Merlins eyes open he immediately shuts them again. The sun is shining directly on his face. He holds a hand over his face and utters a gurgling groan.

He suddenly starts. He is under water. How is he UNDER WATER?!

He starts to hyperventilate, which only increases his panic because he's HYPERVENTILATING UNDER THE BLOODY WATER!

A few minutes later and after many unsteady breaths, he realizes that he isn't drowning and calms down. The events of the days prior flood back to him. He sighs sadly at the thought of the spirit. She gave so much, all for him.

He sits up only to come face to face with a very confused fish which makes them both dart back from each other, one more elegantly than the other. Merlin shakes his head and mutters curses under his breath, which come out as odd garbles.

He stands stiffly and stretches his very sore muscles. Even while standing, his head is at least a half meter under the surface. He guesses which direction is the shore and begins to walk very slowly, and very strangely. On top of the water dragging him down, his muscles and joints are aching.

Soon enough, the ground begins to slope upward and the space between his head and the surface of the water grows smaller. A sudden thought comes to him; what if he can't breathe the air now? He stoops away from the surface and hobbles along like an arthritic old man. This isn't the first time he's done this, but it's the first time he did it while not being an actual arthritic old man. He soon reaches the point where he either has to crawl, or face the consequences of trying to breathe the air.

He chooses the latter and pops his head above the surface. Despite it being much warmer in the valley than in the neighboring mountains, the cold air is still like a slap to the face. He instinctually gasps and begins coughing agressively as his lungs try to squeeze all the water out. He stumbles to the shore and collapses in a coughing and wheezing heap. Each lungful of air leads to a cough tearing itself up his throat.

This continues for another twenty minutes at least. Once he has calmed down and his breathing is back to a semi-normal rate he sits up and looks around. He's back in the clearing, surrounded on all sides by forest, shivering cold, and without a horse. But it could be worse, he could be dea- oh wait.

He gathers up his determination and makes his way toward the trees. His limbs feel like lead and his head pounds. Each step feels like a mile.

Finally, he reaches the trees. He collapses at the foot of one and lights a fire with the meager stregth he has left. He gets as close to the warmth as he can without singeing himself, and watches the flames through dropping lids, until finally, sleep takes him.