How dare you try to take these things, because they are mine!
Merlin
Dawn came, went, eventually made way for dusk, and still Merlin hadn’t seen a single soul.
To be fair, he hadn’t seen anyone for decennia, except crows haunting the empty streets, their caws sometimes sounding almost human, as if they were reminding Merlin of how this place had once been full of life.
This place, his Camelot, which had fallen so deep. Which also had never truly been his; its people did not treasure magic, like most in Middle-Earth. Instead, they feared it, even hated it with a deep-rooted hatred, generations long.
Merlin, being a wizard hiding amongst them, protecting them, had the least right of all to call Camelot his. Nevertheless, he did. There was no one left to convince him it wasn’t.
Merlin had never left.
Of course, he had gone on journeys, but never farther than a week's travel. He had no business left in Camelot, yet leaving felt like betrayal.
And maybe, maybe a tiny part of him was holding on to the hope that they hadn’t all gone, they couldn’t have. They would come back for him. Arthur would come back for him.
There were robbers. They were after the riches Camelot had left behind, long after stories about the city had become fairy tales and fairy tales had become myths. Merlin drove them away, all of them.
None of them seemed to know he was still there, nor that he was one of the Blue Wizards. The other one had been Morgana. No one was aware she had passed; they all thought there were two Blue Wizards, fighting off evil and roaming Middle-Earth together.
Merlin often laughed to himself about the false knowledge people possessed. Imagine if he and Morgana were indeed travelling Middle-Earth together. But alas, Morgana had turned evil and he, Merlin, had her blood on his hands. He had had no other choice; it had been her or Arthur. It would always be Arthur.
Life was so much more complicated than people were aware of.
When Merlin wasn’t keeping people up to no good out of his city or attempting to upkeep the houses, to keep the time and decay which inevitably came with it out, he kept a journal. Or he reread the things his past self had written. He liked holding on to the past; it made him feel comforted, reminded him of better times. In his case, everything really used to be better.
3rd of December
Merlin smiled softly. He recalled writing this almost 150 years ago.
It still hurts. Will it ever stop hurting? I doubt it will.
That was all he had written that day. It had been a bad day. Merlin flipped back through the journal, finding a date closer to when it happened. Pain merely brought him comfort now.
17th of May
May, may. It used to be my favourite month; everything growing again, waking up from the long, deep sleep of winter. Now it just reminds me of what I’ve lost, of everything that will never wake up again.
I also used to love the name May. The literal meaning of it. Whatever May happen… so many possibilities. The only possibility I have left is to remember. I will not forget, I will not let them die away completely.
Merlin had stopped writing down names after about a year. The names made it seem too real. But tonight, it seemed he needed that pain. Maybe to finally accept the loss, but more likely to be comforted and feel less guilty. The guilt about surviving ate at him, always.
21st of January
It has been a month now. January used to mean new beginnings, now it marks the End. I can’t eat, can’t sleep, often can’t even breathe. I’m starting to question what the point of this life is. What am I supposed to do without Arthur? Gwen? Gaius? All the others?
I lay awake at night, in our bed, staring at the ceiling. We used to stare at it together, telling each other what we thought the cracks looked like. God, we were so young and in love. I thought I would burst from how much I loved him. I didn’t know anyone was capable of loving so much, especially not me. Oh, how I loved him.
All the love has turned to grief. I think I’ll burst from the sadness living inside me now. It’s not just Arthur. It’s everyone. Everyone is gone. There is no one left, nowhere to put this sadness.
Merlin felt tears streaming down his face. They had been too young. He cursed whatever was out there, for taking them all, but mostly for not taking him.