Merlin's magic (Oneshots) 1

Wired (part 1): Despair

A.N.: I think I forgot to mention this is angst.
It will get better, but this chapter is pure suffering, as the title implies

Maybe I should have given this it's own book...... nah. 

(random art above as compensation. I kinda love how it turned out :) )

The concept of time had never been an easy one for Merlin.
Even though he always believed his magic to be connected to it somehow.
When Merlin was still a child, when he was being attacked, when something fell down, when only something slightly moved, his magic had reacted to it and time just... stopped.
For the object that is.
It would stop in midair..... and when Merlin let his magic off the object, it would just continue it's path.

He could, of course, manipulate it. Put it somewhere else. But something that was broken was not easily repaired. It was not rewinding time that healed an object. Merlin just willed it back together.

As the events of his life in Camelot unfolded, and Merlin was faced with destiny and duty to Arthur, Camelot, Gaius, Arthur, the Dragons, Magic, the knights and did I mention Arthur? -
He soon found, he had no time to ponder about such things.
Ironically, he could have needed it.

After Camlann, after Merlin respectfully failed at protecting Arthur, he suddenly had lots and lots of time.
He stayed in Camelot for a while.
Gwen became queen in Arthur's stead and repealed the ban on magic.

It had come as a surprise to Merlin, when Gwen told him she knew. She asked him to be court sorcerer.
But Merlin.... after years of hiding, after just being accepted by Arthur completely and fully for who he was, until, ultimately, Arthur died in his arms, Merlin couldn't find it in himself to use magic.
At all. Ever again.
So he refused. And asked to become court physician after Gaius instead.

Gwen had been confused, but accepted his request with worry.

Two days later, Sir Percival returned with additional bad news. Gwaine was dead as well.

Upon hearing this, Merlin had merely closed his eyes, taken a deep breath and went back to his duties. He was too used to death.

All of Camelot was in pain, upon loosing their king. Upon loosing many trusted knights.

Merlin lived his life away, like he would have before.
He would remain the same. Used to loose more and more each day.
There were just... less people to talk to.

After Will died, Merlin had lost his will to return home.
After Lancelot had died, Merlin had lost the ability to confide in people.
After Freya died, he had lost the will to love again.
After his father died, his wish to be loved died as well.
After Uther Pendragon died, Merlin lost his dream to ever tell anyone about his magic.
After Elyan died, Merlin lost the ability to make new friends.
After Gwaine died, Merlin couldn't find it in himself to laugh at jokes anymore.

All of that and more, would have been bearable. If Arthur had lived.
Because with Arthur, Merlin lost his purpose in life.

Merlin remained in his position as a shadow figure in Camelot.
He could not bear to be praised for his doings over the years. Not with how many mistakes he had made. Not with the price everyone had paid for it.

He grew solemn and numb. He didn't isolate himself, he just kept doing his job.
He talked to the friends he still had left, because...
he had to move on.

But he couldn't. And that was Kilgharrah's fault. Because the Dragon had promised him, Arthur would return.
In the beginning, it gave him hope.
It stood with him for years. He waited and waited. And then they grew old. And then Gaius died.
So Merlin had no one left to turn to for advice, for comfort.