Something Missing-Part II
by Nightfox
Quick AN: This was inspired heavily by the Evanescence song "Missing"
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the characters contained in here. I also don't own any of the lyrics to "Missing" (written by David Hodges, Amy Lee & Ben Moody) some of which appear in Part II. If you'd like to see the original lyrics they are available at any lyric site on the net. I personally prefer Metrolyrics since I've never gotten a virus while visiting that site.
He sat at Gwen's rosewood desk with both the cure and the letter before him. They'd been in the top drawer just as her letter stated they would be. He picked up the small vial and held it in his hand. So small, it looked no bigger than a dram or two of shimmering golden fluid. How could so little liquid hold the key to breaking a curse that had suppressed his mind, heart and soul for over ten years? She had promised soul destroying pain and heart-lifting joy were both contained in this tiny bottle. Memories, awareness, a bond that remained unbroken by one, forgotten by the other, love, loss and betrayal all contained in the tiny fragile flask. How could it all fit in there?
He carefully lay the vial back on the desk's surface and reached for the parchment square. Sealed with a blob of red wax and marked only with a thumbprint that shimmered ever so slightly. The last letter from a jilted lover, sealed he suspected with sorcery so that only the addressee could break it. He turned it over and saw his name written in an unfamiliar hand. Looking closely he noted the ink also shimmered slightly. Was the ink also only visible to the addressee?
Laying the letter down beside the shimmering antidote he grimly noted that both were sealed with an almost identical red wax. Pendragon red. Both also shimmered with gold, the other color of the House of Pendragon. Should he unseal either? Should he read the letter and then decide? Should he break the curse and then truly feel the emotions expressed by the words inside that sealed square of animal skin?
The sun was setting, blazing golden light filled the room of the absent Queen. He would grant her last request and let her go, though her life would be forfeit should she ever place so much as a toe over Camelot's border again. The proclamation was being read now, he could hear the town criers calling out Gwen and Lancelot's crimes against King and Country. The pair were to be offered no aid, every hand turned against them. Any citizen caught offering succor would suffer the same fate as the traitorous lovers.
He'd been murderously furious at her betrayal until he'd read her final letter to him. Now the fury had fled and he was left feeling hollow and frightened. He was used to the hollowness, he couldn't remember a time when he hadn't felt it. The fear was new. Both items in front of him promised an end to the hollowness but offered only pain in return. Which was better? Did he want to feel again? He was sure that sometime in his past he'd felt things. According to Gwen's letter, still clutched tightly in his fist, he'd felt a great deal. She was right about at least one thing, he had always had this sense of something or someone missing from his life. In the past either Gwen had distracted him or he'd shaken it off putting it down to the loss of his father or the fact that he'd never known his mother. Neither answer seemed right but he couldn't focus clearly enough to understand why. Now he knew.
He kept her letter clutched tightly in his hand for it was the only thing that kept him focused on the two items on the otherwise bare desk. As soon as he let that bit of parchment leave his fingers, he couldn't see or remember the precious items in front of him. The curse was still holding on strongly.
He ran a restless hand through hair that shone as gold as when he was a youth. At 35 it was long since that youth but his age wasn't showing yet. Royalty usually outlasted the general populace. Access to abundant food, warm clothing and the finest medical help available did tend to extend one's life beyond that of the ordinary citizen. He still trained regularly with his knights and had lost none of his strength or stamina. His people considered him a Warrior King. They felt safe with him, his knights and his loyal army to protect them from the Saxon threat. He had excellent advisers who felt secure enough to caution as well as advise him when they felt it was warranted. Those who sat at the round table took it's symbolism to heart. While none of them felt equal to the King, they felt equal to each other and knew their ruler valued each of them for their individual strengths and talents.
Fear was not an emotion he was often acquainted with. He was not comfortable with it roiling in his belly, sending hot lead through his veins even as his core felt frozen over. His heart was thumping so fast and so hard it threatened to burst through his chest. His hands trembled. He could not honestly remember a time since he became King that his hands had trembled for any reason.
Making a decision he reached for the letter and broke the seal. His hands continued to tremble as he unfolded the parchment square and smoothed it out on the desk before him. With a deep, unsteady breath, he forced his eyes to the letters that seemed to almost stand up on the page, as if they weren't written in ink but formed of their own substance, sculpted almost like clay and impossible to ignore now that his eyes acknowledged them.
My Dearest Arthur,
Please, please forgive me, but I won't be home again. This last month you've made it clear that I am to play no further part in your life. Maybe someday you'll look up and barely conscious you'll say to no one "Isn't something missing?"
You won't cry for my absence, I know. You forgot me long ago. Am I that unimportant? Am I so insignificant? I know I'm just a servant but still, isn't something missing? Isn't some part of you missing me?
It seems I'm the sacrifice, you won't try for me, not now. Though I'd die to know you love me, I'm all alone. You said you'd love me no matter what but I can see those were just words. Gwen is all you see and all I see is you. Without you, there is nothing here for me. There isn't anyone missing me.
Please, please forgive me but I won't be home again. I promised you I'd serve you until the day I died and I will. I always will but it won't be at your side anymore. I know what you do to yourself and I won't watch. But it seems you won't be missing anything, you won't be missing me.
And if I bleed, I'll bleed knowing you don't care. And if I sleep just to dream of you, I'll wake without you there. I'll breathe deep and cry out, "Isn't something missing? Isn't someone missing me?"
You've made your "sacrifice" and you won't try for me, not now. I would die to know you loved me but now I'm all alone.
Isn't something missing? Aren't you missing me?
Merlin
Arthur sat back and could feel the pain radiating from the parchment. He still couldn't remember Merlin but clearly Gwen wasn't exaggerating the depth of feeling Merlin had had for him. Had he truly felt the same passion for the young sorcerer? One line in the ten year old letter rang true, "Maybe someday you'll look up and barely conscious you'll say to no one, 'Isn't something missing?" He had whispered it to himself in his empty bed chamber standing in front of his wardrobe , by himself after long cabinet meetings, creeping along the forest floor on the hunt, riding into battle, even taking a simple bath. He'd felt an absence, a void, an empty place where he felt something should be. The feeling had been haunting him so long, he couldn't remember a time it wasn't there.
Now there was just the tiny vial of golden fluid between him and knowing when that time had been. Did he really want to know? If all Gwen had written were true, Merlin was lost to him forever. Did he really want to bring that kind of pain on himself? He wasn't sure what it felt like to really hurt emotionally. He'd been numb and empty for so long. He'd mourned his father's passing of course but they'd never been close and in some guilty way, he'd almost been relieved when Uther had passed on. He knew physical pain and did not fear it. However, he'd seen the looks on the faces of those suffering from deep emotional loss and it looked far harder to bear. Was he strong enough inside to endure the knowledge of the loss he'd suffered? Gwen may have made the final cut but apparently he'd been the one to make the first slices of severance. If he remembered it, then he'd also know that ultimately it was he who created the entire situation.
Just then he realized what a coward he truly was. Merlin had been left to suffer while he'd gotten away without so much as a wince until now. Gwen had admitted that Merlin was her target all along. She'd had them all fooled for so long. She'd seemed like the sweetest, most selfless person he could ever imagine. So demure, so seemingly shy and soft-spoken, no one had seen the viper that lay coiled in her chest. Arthur actually began to feel sorry for Lancelot. He had a strong feeling she'd wreck his life as well, all because he wasn't Merlin.
Arthur had never allowed himself to give in to cowardice before and he wouldn't start now. He reached for the stolen destiny contained in that tiny bottle. Carefully peeling back the protective wax seal, he uncorked the vial and took a very deep breath. Eyes closed, he carefully brought the drought to his lips and tipped it back.
