Those Who Waited (BBC Merlin)

Chapter 17: Of This Life

Though time had seemed to slow when the siblings arrived, it did not stop. His two weeks had rapidly turned into ten days, and then one week, and in the blink of an eye it was suddenly a day. The last day, to be exact, and Merlin could feel his sleep creeping along his bones as the sun rolled over its peak and it became afternoon.

Though it was still bright outside, Merlin made his friends and himself a simple meal and then went quietly outside. The two remained sitting and talking, pausing as they watched the door close out of the corners of their eyes. Once the heavy footsteps faded, Gwaine leaned forward with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Soon," he said, and Susetthe nodded, uncharacteristically meek.

"I know," she sighed. She glanced toward the closed door. "This surely is his last night." Gwaine nodded and sat back, though his body remained hunched. The siblings knew when they had come and first seen Susetthe's old friend that he did not have long, and they would have to move on soon. With no parents, they had no home and the two had spirits that desired to keep moving, to explore and run in the world. After Merlin's stories and revelation to her, Susetthe wasn't surprised. Still, it meant saying goodbye to Merlin, one way or another, and that brought her no joy.

Merlin stood at the edge of Lake Avalon, his toes carefully in line and right at he edge where the overgrown weeds fell into the water, his eyes shining as he looked at the ancient, unkempt lake before him. There was a shimmering layer above it, as though he were looking at it through glass, the sight carefully folded into the reflection. Merlin saw the lake as he remembered it best—full and alive with the magic that pulsed around it. Its waters full of lost souls, but also of magical creatures who held power beyond their small sizes, or who stood just under the serene surface. With a huff, he guided his legs to bend and drop his body unceremoniously into a sitting position. Despite having reached this point, this day, countless times before, it never ceased to have a certain air about it. Each time, it was an end, and he could not halt the nostalgia and slight disappointment that slipped under his skin and tickled his bones. Another century, another lifetime, come to a close. And still, he had not risen, and Merlin had sat at the lake and waited.

He lay down, letting his body sink into the damp earth and wondering, if he were to lie there long enough, if his old, aching limbs would tangle into the equally old roots and he could fade into that peaceful existence.

Merlin's eyes opened slowly to Gwaine's voice, calling to him from above. The young man was kneeling over Merlin, his brow furrowed in concern but Merlin saw the telltale stiffness of his jaw. His shoulders and face were cast in uneven shadow, the sky behind him darkening into dusk—even the sun wanted to sink into peace.

"I am reaching the end of this life," Merlin stated simply. Gwaine's expression didn't change, but he offered his arm and the old man gripped it, allowing Gwaine to pull him gently upright.

The two walked back to Merlin's small home in silence, though Merlin felt the tension in Gwaine through the man's tight grip, rigid shoulders, and stony face. Merlin spoke to him, trying to ease his discomfort because it hardly seemed fair for his friend to suffer so unnecessarily.

"It is not so bad now," Merlin tried, the words sounding lame even to his own ears. He wanted to chuckle, some things never seemed to change. Gwaine shrugged slightly, his grimace growing.

"Still sad," he muttered, barely pushing the words past his lips, the unspoken words hanging in the air between them.

It wouldn't be long now, Merlin surmised as the two stepped through his home and into his small bedroom. Susetthe was standing with her shoulder and hip against the wall, propping herself up although the way her body curved into it self it seemed more as though she were halfheartedly trying to sink into the wall. Her eyes could not help but flick to the old figure, but she reprimanded them fiercely to at least attempt to remain at the floor at the hem of her dress. Merlin sat down on the worn mattress with a sigh, swatting good-naturedly when Gwaine tried to help him lean back.

His mind drew up a time, long ago but clear for this moment, of when this old body had been but a disguise as he moved about a castle. He had scowled and snarled and even hissed at the knights who neared him, and they hadn't known any better. A flash of consideration in his mind weighed whether he could that to Gwaine now.

The old man laughed loudly and suddenly, though the two siblings could not fathom what it was he found funny. They exchanged a quick glance before both moving and sitting on opposite sides of the bed, but at the bottom corners as their old friend rested against the top. Susetthe kept her hands in her lap, and Merlin saw more of her back than her front or even sides, but Gwaine placed one palm on the bed and faced him only slightly more openly.

Merlin would have liked to have spoken to Gwaine more, but the young man gave only a murmured question to his comfort before lapsing into his typical stony silence, and then, after barely half an hour, leaving altogether. Only then did Susetthe turn to face him a bit more, though she still kept to her small corner.

Merlin was feeling the sleep now, it began to build a cocoon of warmth and blackness around his body, starting at his back and wrapping to his front. It was at his arms now, slowly growing over him though still far from enclosure. Still, he felt his perception of the world slow, so that seconds blurred into each other and the beige of his walls became a richer adobe color. Susetthe's auburn ringlets were strung with gold, and her light dress seemed to glow against her skin in his vision.

"Susetthe," he murmured, enjoying the velvety name of his dear friend. Her head tilted, and her face finally began to peek out from her shoulder and layers of hair. Merlin knew this was just another night of sleep, like so many others. But he felt the need to speak to her anyway.

It must have been some time, because she spoke. "I'm here, Merlin," her voice was as quiet as his had been. He hadn't noticed any lapse, but still her voice spurred him on.

"You know, you asked me one day when you were little, and I was telling you stories, why I didn't get rewarded or become a knight," he mused, speaking to her though the memory enticed him to sink into a deeper reverie. The girl shook her head, her rich hair shining wildly.

"That was a silly, and rather selfish question, I'm sorry," she said, her voice nearly a snap in her haste to dismiss herself. Merlin chuckled at her embarrassment.

"No," he countered. She was missing his point. "In fact, I thought about it all that day," he continued the tale, hoping she would catch on. She shook her head and scoffed, but Merlin quieted to let her retort. She was finally fully facing him, and he watched her cheeks slowly color and her features jump.

"I didn't mean to cause you discomfort, Merlin, please forget it. You were and still are the greatest man I've ever met, and ever will meet, you don't—" she words began to tumble faster, and Merlin longed for the energy to sit up, reach out, and touch her shoulders to calm her. Instead, he remained lying in his uselessly old body and settled for shushing her. She stopped immediately, and Merlin felt a spark in his chest at the girl's wide eyes, eager to drink in everything.

"I've had your company more than once, and each time was brilliant. When I first knew you, you were my love." His heart stumbled in its steady rhythm at the quick shock across her face. Merlin wasn't sure if it was a painful feeling, or a pleasant one. Regardless, he continued to speak. "Then, when I knew you as a child, I could already see the wonderful woman you would become. You have been my love, and you have been my friend through all this time. You are my reward," he finished quietly, his own tone softening as he spoke thoughts that had swirled in his mind but only in this moment were solidifying. He was in a bit of awe at himself and at the young woman before him, whose face was soft and shining.

"You loved me?" she smiled around her words. Merlin smiled back, raising his feeble arm to meet her outstretched hand. Her fingers were smooth and soft in his rough palm, but she tightened her grasp.

"Yes."You still are.