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Did I do something good?...
For a while, some of Daegal's final words linger behind his teeth and tongue. Settling uncomfortably.
Merlin told him he did... he saved Arthur's life...
Merlin...
Merlin occasionally unlocks the door, hanging his head, climbing to the filthied stone balcony overseeing the King's council-chambers. Daegal hasn't moved. Not yet. A fortnight passes, and Daegal stands still in the stain of where his own hot, dark lifeblood collected. Unsure what to do.
Until Merlin appears to grieve him, unseeing of Daegal's spirit, crying in hushed breathes.
He leaves his favourite—an apple, rosy and freshly picked—at Daegal's boots.
And, then on, Daegal decides to follow him...
Wherever Merlin may lead...
At first light, Daegal greets it in Merlin's bedside chair, restfully waiting and watching as his former companion stirs awake.
"You should eat more," Daegal says quietly, eyeing the nudeness of a long, lean back in front of him. Merlin's tendons clench, unclench. His white skin goosefleshing. If Daegal was able to, he would have greeted Merlin himself and fetched Merlin's worn, blue-grey tunic hanging off a pail.
"I have seen you eat a few wild bush blackberries on Gaius's table, out of the bowl, but... not much else, Merlin. You should find more time to eat... I suppose if I could taste blackberries, I would. Or hold them. Blackberries grow north-south, y'know... my mother taught me. She was good at finding what eat when there was nothing. Perfect when they're halfway ripened. Even if I could taste, it would be... nothing as well."
"Merlin... d'you think she is waiting for me? My mother?"
He walks about, soundless. All of him. Daegal's thick, woolen cloak. His boots. His lips smacking together nervously.
Daegal has mistakenly walked through one of the Camelot's knights, not so long ago. Following after Merlin hastily bringing the Queen her supper. Daegal clearly heard his groan. The knight never laid eye on Daegal, as Merlin never has, but shuddered as if experiencing a bone-deep freeze.
Soon after, Daegal found himself able to pass through solid stone walls and doors barring every chamber-room.
"Comfrey, Merlin," he points out, nodding as Merlin assists a serving girl, younger than Daegal, frowning while Gaius hums and looks for a tome and needing a proper clean bandaging. Her wound bleeding brightly. "Remember? It will help with the blood-flow and take away the swelling..."
Merlin's brow furrows.
Then, he reaches for the vial of purpled flower-stalks.
It doesn't feel right... to intrude. Sometimes.
Daegal waits out in a hall of an upstairs chamber-room for noble guests, palming his own sleeve, listening to Merlin encouraging some-one to breathe while administering them a tonic. It will be their very last breath, gasping—Daegal senses it, wide-eyed, palming suddenly at his throat.
He struggles, lightheaded, before it passes with Daegal's hand lowering. As does Merlin's patient with little explanation, leaving this world.
"We all matter... we all matter..." Daegal recites softly, pressing down onto his gut no longer jutting with an assassin's blade.
We weave lies, and our lives, such as spiders weave their webs. It is merely our instinct. We mean no harm.
His mother's words...
Uther had no right to take her. No right. No right at all to sentence Daegal's mother to the noose, in the Citadel's square, for having magic. Daegal does wonder if... Uther, also now having passed on, remembered her face and the faces of every innocent on Uther's own deathbed...
"Merlin."
Daegal glances from King Arthur Pendragon, sternly examining Merlin, to Merlin's rueful expression looking out to the night flooding starlight.
"Yes, sire?" Merlin asks, barely above a whisper.
He remains where he is... even as one of King Arthur's gauntlets touches Merlin's shoulder comfortingly.
"I unfortunately know you, Merlin. Too well. You are thinking of the boy again, is that it? The one who prevented Sarrum's man from killing me?"
King Arthur sighs, ignoring as Merlin tries to hide wiping his eyelids.
"Not every-one can be saved..." he proclaims.
"He is right, Merlin. Our fate cannot always be controlled by your hands, even with your magic," Daegal solemnly speaks up... and for a moment, Merlin's eyes narrow intently to the emptiness where Daegal waits... "But I am not going to leave you this time... not after all you done."
Merlin...
Merlin...