It was a night that brought mixed feelings of the world with it. Excitement for a coming king, yes, but dread and mourning for the man lost to bring him forth
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Merlin had thought that there would be some warning, some ... something, but when he returned, as Orrick, in a wind of ribbons to his apartment, he felt the chill of loss even before he'd seen anyone. It was not in Orrick to agonize, so he didn't, but there were others in him, older and younger and gentler in their own ways that may as well have rematerialized onto an upturned dagger. "Caledon?" No one said it like Orrick, the flow of it lovely on his tongue, but he knew even in saying it that Cal wouldn't answer. There was strange, though uncomfortably familiar, new power pressing on him from the private office down the hall.
The walk there was strange, like a dream, but the man he saw in his chair had only been a dream once upon a time. Perhaps now he was a nightmare.
Orrick did not smile at first, but then found himself again, pushing everything down and away as always, as forever, as eternal. "Well ... I'm sure you'll understand then, when I have no wish to sit up conversing with his doppleganger." His smile was almost pleasant then, but only a flash of it showed before he was turning around again and striding toward the kitchen.
Orrick seemed to wholly underestimate the amount of weapons Arthur could get on his person in even a short amount of time. The dagger flew past Orrick's head and lodged itself in the door frame in front of him.
"Merlin. You don't get to do this to me. Not after everything."
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The walk there was strange, like a dream, but the man he saw in his chair had only been a dream once upon a time. Perhaps now he was a nightmare.
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"A light has gone out," he said evenly, but still gentle, still kind and understanding in his own way.
"And I am sorry for it."
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"Merlin. You don't get to do this to me. Not after everything."
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