[ This time, when Arthur breathes out something akin to a laugh, it is not as cold or derisive as the last, but light and airy, like that first gasp of air after being pulled from drowning. Desperate and relieved, but also something terrified.

He knocks his shoulder against Merlin's just a little. ]

That's not ... entirely what I meant. Though I'm glad to know you're as much of a girl as I'd thought.

[ He doesn't smile with the tease, though, because he's too busy trying to find the right words to explain himself. He crosses his legs beneath him and plucks out a few blades of grass to idle his hands. ]

It's not just Freya that I've taken from you, and I know this. What I don't understand is how you've grown to accept that. Men who've suffered half as much have cursed my name to the grave.

[ The grass falls from his hands so he can stare at them, these things that are so very good at breaking things. ]

You said you wanted to show her that ... magic can be beautiful. And I've spent my whole life showing people otherwise. By all accounts, the things I've done and the things I've cost you - I do not deserve the loyalty you give me.

[ He balls his hands and finally looks over to Merlin, brows furrowed. ]

You should hate me.

[ He would. ]