"Numb" (Rose)
What I say to Merlin is all too true. I don't feel sad, I don't feel angry, I don't feel hurt. I don't feel a thing. I sit here, like a rock, emotionless. I am at a loss for words, a loss for situated thinking. I am lightheaded to the point where I should feel like throwing up, but I don't even feel that. I guess everything caught up with me, and it's just too much to take at one time.
I clutch at my necklace, like that will help me. "That's a lovely trinket," Merlin tries to distract me.
"It was my mother's," I say blankly.
"Tell me about her," he wants me to talk. I think my behavior is scaring him, and I cannot blame him for that.
Since I seem to possess the current inability to be upset about anything, I speak, "She was the most beautiful woman you would ever see."
"So you look like her then," he smiles a little.
I laugh dryly. As much as I appreciate that, and the comment would normally thrill me, it is impossible to be flattered or cheered by anything right now. "What happened to her?" his voice seems far away ...
"She became sick with an incurable disease- one that only magic could drive away. She did not want my father risking himself for her, and said that I needed him. My father tried everything else, but there was nothing that could be done for her in the end. I would say the fever took her, but indirectly it was really Uther's doing."
"Do you know why Uther hates magic?" he asks, and I am intrigued enough to tell him that I don't. "He made a deal with the high priestess of the Old Religion, Nimueh, to help his wife conceive a child, for she was barren and that would leave him without an heir. The bargain was struck, but in the laws of nature ..."
"... To give a life, one must be taken," I finish for him, knowing this.
"Exactly," he nods, "But he didn't know it would be the life of Ygraine, his queen."
"He assumed this to be a ploy, didn't he?"
"Of course," he says, knowing Uther's way of thinking.
"So Arthur's mother's death was because of Uther, too?"
"Indirectly, yes," he nods again, "But Arthur doesn't know this. I mean, he found out, but we told him it wasn't true. He was going to kill his father if we didn't."
"You didn't let him?" I would be shocked if I were of a normal state of mind.
"No, it wouldn't be right."
"You have more self-control than I could ever wish to possess. I am glad I wasn't in your position. I fear I would have done the wrong and selfish thing."
"I still feel like I did wrong at Arthur's expense. He deserves to know the truth ..."
"You saved the king's life, Merlin. His deception caused the problem. Maybe, you should have let it come back to haunt him, but you did what you believed to be right. You should not dwell on what could have been, just what can be."
"Agreed," he stands, "And I encourage you to think on your own words."
That gets to me. He's right. I am not going to push myself at this point. I need my time to mourn, but I cannot do so when I am numb to everything around me. I need to let myself grieve, so I can move on. I have a duty in this life, to Merlin, to Gaius, and to Camelot. God forbid I should ever bring them down with me.
"The Song of Life" (Merlin)
We decide to leave thereafter. One traveling in the opposite direction from whence we came, I break our silence. "It's so quiet," I muse, feeling compelled to whisper, "Yet there is life all around us."
"If you open your senses, you can hear music," Rose says dreamily.
I try my hardest, "I don't hear anything."
"It is because your ear isn't trained for such. Someone would have to sing for you to hear the harmony that is surrounding you."
"You're telling me this forest can sing?"
"Everything in life has a song. The world is composed of rhythm. We have never known anything different so we absent mindedly ignore it, but if you want to hear the music, it can always be heard. Actually, every forest has a different tune like they have different trees and animals. It's quite interesting."
"Do you know this forest's song?"
"Yes," she says, sounding a little brighter, "As a matter of fact, Woodwards were the first people to start putting words to the songs they would hear. I learned this forest's song as a child, since it was my home."
"That's so strange," my mind is baffled, "Very interesting, though. What determines the song?"
"Other than the harmonies one with an ear in tune with nature can distinguish, the words are often related to the history and overall feel of the forest, as well as the characteristics of its inhabitants. This forest is a forest of memory, its song is called 'The Song of Life'," she says, the sad tone returning to her voice, "It is sung in remembrance."
"Can you sing it?" I ask, highly intrigued, "I would love to hear it."
"I will try my best," she sighs, and then, in the purest voice my ears have ever been privileged to receive, sings.
My head swirls with wonder, for as she sings, I can hear the forest using her voice to harmonize with her. The song so beautiful, I am almost convinced it is literally magical. I am speechless when she finishes. She says nothing as well, but I can feel her tense, fighting back her emotions. I bring my hand to hers, which are positioned in front of me, since she is holding onto my waist. I hope she isn't taken back by me doing so. I just want her to know that I care, without actually having to say it. I feel lightheaded when she pulls herself closer to me, hugging me from behind. I grip her hands tighter, pushing gently against her left arm, for that is the best I can do to hug back for right now.