Chapter Text
He doesn’t notice it at first.
He doesn’t notice how the quiet begins to grow around him, nor does he really understand how easily he accommodates the quiet until he can fit himself within it, without ever making a sound.
What he does notice is absence. At first, he thought that was just what it was. Absence in the singular. Something to be either worked through or adapted to. He quickly changed his mind when he realized Absence wasn’t a monolith. It wasn’t a just thing that just happened, that fed on the empty.
No, Absence, tentacled and reaching, hastened to press its limbs to the careful world he’d cultivated since he’d first come to Camelot, to form itself to the shape of those he loved and fragment them. Absence is a creature born of the quiet that eats and eats and eats.
At first, Merlin greeted it much in the same way he greeted the loneliness he’d known in Ealdor. It wasn’t anyone’s fault—really it wasn’t. It just happened one day and he knew because he felt it faintly pressing against the walls of his chest. In a village as tiny and removed as Ealdor was, in a village close to lands that would see him dead for the very thing that made up the core of his soul and alone with nobody who could truly know him without hatred or fear aside from his mother and Will, it just happened.
When he was younger, a few years before he’d ventured to Camelot, he could remember telling himself that even though he felt lonely, he wasn’t truly alone. He was right, of course. How can you feel truly alone with someone like Will around? Living as though every day were an adventure even if such adventures only went as far as tending to one’s crops.
Naturally, when he felt the subtle crushing of his chest, he’d turn to Will and remind himself that he had what he needed. Even if he couldn’t be free from the constrictions imposed on magic, even if he couldn’t avoid the quiet taunts of the other village boys who mocked him for his lack of a father, he was okay. In the safety of the little hovel that he shared with his mother and in the woods with Will safe from prying eyes, he could simulate a shred of the freedom he so craved by entertaining them with the images he cast in flames, stones, and twigs.
Things were good for a while. Still hidden, still lonely but never truly alone.
Soon, he’d left for Camelot and though his safety felt more precarious than he ever had before, he had friends; the lovely Guinevere, the formidable Morgana, and Arthur, even if Arthur wouldn’t admit it. Once during the eve of his first summer in Camelot, a very tired, very drunk Arthur let him off early following a feast. Knowing better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, Merlin stole away to the lower town where the peasants and merchants still bustled. Though he was on his own, it was hard to feel lonely when caught up in the light of Camelot. From the merchants shouting at their assistants to bring their wares in faster, to the wails of babes in the arms of exhausted mothers and the last shrieks of childish joy before bedtime, to the swift footed, quick-witted, and sticky-fingered street rats, to the stern guards whose steps could be paced out by the way their armor clanged together, life was everywhere, and it was in everything.
“Merlin, what are you doing here?” Merlin spun around, his eyes quickly finding Gwen’s. In her arms, she carried a bouquet of flowers; little yellow rock roses nestled between the delicate but sturdy stems of violet columbines. Merlin raised his eyebrows and Gwen snorted, bumping her shoulder with his as she walked closer.
“Morgana thought I might like them,” She said and for a split second, he could have sworn he caught sight of her blush. “Thought or simply knows?” He teased and she rolled her eyes.
“You’re ridiculous,” she said and though her chin was slightly raised, and her shoulders set, she could not hide the hint of the smile that warmed the softness of her face.
It isn’t a wonder she gave you flowers. With your unending kindness and loyalty to those you love, you deserve every flower under the sun, Guinevere. You deserve so much more, he thought.
“That’s why you love me,” He responded easily, being gratified with another of Gwen’s brilliant smiles.
“It’d be hard for anyone to not love you,” she said so smoothly, Merlin nearly tripped over his own feet.
He could feel his heart beating in his throat as his face warmed. He knew of course that it was all in jest. He’d started it first and it was only fair that Gwen finished it. Still, something deep inside him wondered indeed what it’d be like for that to be true. To not only be permitted to exist in another’s presence but to truly be loved by them.
“Merlin?” Gwen asked, tearing him from his thoughts. He must have looked so earnest for a moment because Gwen’s brows had furrowed. Quickly, he straightened himself out and gave her queasy smile.
“Sorry,” He said quickly.
“What for?” She asked, a frown forming in her gentle scrutiny.
“I forgot I needed to collect some hyssop for Gaius,” He said with a shrug.
“Oh,” Gwen simply said. She opened her mouth but then closed it again, seeming to swallow whatever she had wanted to say. Instead, she moved toward him with her arms opened as if for a hug and Merlin knew better than to decline.
As easy as it was to love her, he found himself wrapping his long arms around her, resting his nose and chin to the crown of her curls. Between the cloying fragrance of Morgana’s many perfumes that still clung to her hair long after she’d been let go for the night, he could still smell the early-morning embers from the forge mixed faintly with sweat. He shut his eyes and did his best not to melt into the hug, lest they crash to the ground flowers and all.
As he held her closer, he hoped to remember the way it felt to be held in case it didn’t happen again. It was silly as he was much less lonely here than he had been in Ealdor, but still…there was something unnerving about the idea of losing this, of losing his memory of having been loved by Gwen even for a moment, that he could not allow. Gwen, as if sensing his tension, squeezed her arms around his chest and back harder. Her days in her father’s forge had served her well, seeing as she had given him one of the best hugs he’d ever felt. With a trembling hand, he gently held the back of her head and pressed his lips so faintly to her crown, it’d be impossible to feel.
Eventually, they let go of each other. Their eyes found the other’s and they stayed quiet for a moment as they processed each other.
“I love you,” She said. Merlin gave her a shaky smile.
“Thank you,” He said, not knowing what exactly he was thanking her for. Still, she must have understood because she nodded and bade him goodnight before turning back in the direction she was going toward.
On his way back to Gaius’, he gathered two shaking-fistfuls of hyssop and didn’t dare acknowledge the way he mourns Gwen’s arms around him.