#triodia

He walked towards the pond, expecting to see Stiles with his feet in the water, or perhaps the Doctor muttering over a strange piece of technology. Instead however, as he ducked under a branch, he realized the sound he had been hearing was someone crying. Merlin hesitated in the trees for a moment, unsure of what to do.

Before he could decide, he heard whoever it was sniffle and clear their throat. "Hello?" a deep, strained voice called out.

The sorcerer stumbled forward, twigs catching on his neckerchief as his feet met the stone floor of the structure. He smiled awkwardly, his gaze meeting two damp blue eyes. "Uh, sorry," he burst out, untangling the cloth from the trees. "I didn't mean to snoop, I was just passing by when I heard-" he cut himself off as he saw a gleam of a sapphire ring clutched in the man's hands. "I'll - I'll just go?" He tilted his head, unsure of what to do.

Steve cleared his throat again, turning away and wiping his eyes. "No, it's okay Merlin. I can go if you wanted to-?" He gestured to the view before him, the water glistening calmly.

"No. It's okay," he responded, looking over the man sitting on his knees. He didn't know him very well, only that he was in a relationship with Arcadia, and their children had been brought with them to Greece this time around. He was a soldier, and a superhero. They had talked a few times before, and Merlin at least knew that he, like Arthur, had been dead for years before waking up in a world he didn't know.

He looked back up at him, and Merlin realized that he had been staring. "You can come sit down, if you want," the blond suggested politely.

A few more moments passed before he decided to stay, leaning up against a pillar and putting a few of his fingers through the water. A minute or so went by of the two men just looking across the pond, birdsong around them.

"Would it be too personal to ask about the ring?" Merlin finally wondered aloud, breaking the silence.

Steve stared down at the engagement ring, its blue hue much darker than his eyes. His rough hands gripped the band tighter, and his shoulders tensed. He had stubble all along his jaw, and his hair was a mess. "She packed this in my bag before you guys left for New York." He chuckled at a memory: "'Just in case,' she said when I found it. "

Merlin had watched from a distance as Arcadia pulled him through a doorway she created from thin air. Her magic was clearly hard for her to control, but she had created a separate gateway for Steve to come to Greece, just so he wouldn't become sick from traveling in the TARDIS.

"She really loves you," the brunet observed.

Steve shook his head with another soft laugh, putting the ring into a small box, then putting that in his pocket. "And I love her, so much more than she knows." He finally turned to Merlin with sincerity in his expression, mouth just barely creased at the corners. "My wife may be even more brooding than me sometimes, but she's also the most selfless person I've ever known." He kept eye contact, patting Merlin on the shoulder. "If she hasn't proven that to you yet, I swear to God she will."

He thought about this for a moment, somehow sure he was telling the truth. He nodded, before furrowing his brows in confusion. "Wait... wife? Why isn't she wearing the ring then?"

Steve raised an eyebrow, leaning back against his hands with a sigh. "We got married in another life, a long time ago. But we still haven't tied the knot in this dimension. Why do you think our kids have both our names? Rogers-Holmes?"

"Oh," he answered. "That makes sense." He gazed at him, seeing something familiar in his eyes. Something that spoke of pain, and love, and responsibility. Something that looked a lot like what Gwen carried after Arthur died.

Merlin swallowed, then stood up, brushing dirt off his pants. He jerked a thumb towards the trees. "Well it was nice talking to you, but I have to go find my own fiance!" he forced a chuckle.

Steve nodded back to him, fortunately appearing a little lighter than he did when the conversation began. "I'll see you around Merlin."

Exhaling through her nose, the ancient being moved closer to the mirror to inspect it.

"Are you alright?" a gentle voice asked.

Speaking of ancient. It was Merlin, dressed in his Arthurian clothes (including the neckerchief) except for the modern jeans he wore.

Arc hesitated before answering. "I guess so. It's just this. I know what it's a reminder of, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it." Her eyebrows furrowed, and Merlin grinned at her little unconscious pout.

He stepped to the left of her, gazing at it carefully. He raised a hand, but asked first. "Can I take a look?"

She looked into his eyes, so old and gentle. She felt tense, but nodded, lowering her shoulder and tilting her head.

He skimmed a thumb along it, skin fluttering against skin.

Arc winced.

He looked at her face in a silent question, afraid he had hurt her.

"It's okay," she whispered. "Just got a shiver."

The sorcerer examined the mark once again, but his adept skills as a physician never quite applied when it came to the mysterious deity in front of him. "It's definitely magical," he sighed, pulling away. "Because it hasn't gotten any better or worse and it's been days."

Arc snorted. "And we're still technically in a dream world."

His goofy grin and light laughter made her feel warm inside. "There's that, too," he responded.

A moment of quiet passed with the watery light bouncing off their faces.

"I'm tired, Merlin," she sighed. She looked up through the glass ceiling at the fish, a lone tear threatening to spill down her cheek.

His face was filled with concern. "You need to get more rest. And try to focus inside here more, with me." He took a step closer to her, slowly. "You know you're not supposed to be host right now."

She couldn't feel much, but the sensation of his breath on her skin was there. With another sigh, she reached out her left hand to hold his right.

"You should sleep," he said, squeezing her hand a little. "I can tell you're getting tired."

Merlin bit his lower lip, eyebrows furrowed.

"And it can't be opened?" he asked, swallowing. He saw no hinges or seals, not even a button.

"No." No spell the sorcerer could think of - and there were a lot - would have any effect on it. It was powerful magic at work. He had inspected the whole thing with Pandora, from the jellyfish and foxes engraved in the bottom to researching the crown that sat on her head. There were no clues, no hidden messages.

"No word from the Doctor?" Steve asked.

"He can't communicate, they share a body now." Pale fingertips pressed up against the glass.

"How about the other Doctors? Has Tenley stopped by? Eleven?"

Merlin remembered the looks of confusion on the faces of the angel and the demon. "Aziraphale and Tenley are staying nearby, they don't know what's happening either."

"Last time I talked to her she was a little stressed," the blond murmured, "but overall fine." He regretted leaving the front when he did. He had wanted to stay there to make sure Arcadia was safe, but he had urgent business to attend to. Next thing he knew, Barry was handing him a letter telling him to go back to Greece.

"Medusa visited the console room a little," the sender of the letter interrupted his thoughts. "She can't be dormant, because she's still fighting to front, but the things they hear from her when co-conscious are hard to understand." At Steve's raised eyebrow, he added: "even more than usual."

The captain sighed. Last he had heard, Jamie was popping in and out dealing with a gatekeeping crisis, so she wouldn't know what was going on either. Apparently Merlin had sent Stiles a letter too, but he had answered saying he couldn't come back yet.

Frankly, Steve worried the worst he could think of was happening.

"She's watching us." The words fell out softly in Merlin's accent.

Steve met his golden eyes in confusion, holding his breath. "What do you mean?"

"There. Look."

He followed his gaze to see a raven perched on a branch of ivy, on the wall behind where the throne used to be. It was blurry, as if it was made out of mist. It watched them silently, one eye green and the other a deep blue. He breathed out, but the anxiety didn't lessen.

"She must be okay then. She has to be. If she's watching."

As his throat tightened, he wished he could share Merlin's optimism. But as old as this man was, he had only really dealt with the parasite once before - when it was weak, for that matter. He crouched down to be eye level with his fiancee, sleeping like Snow White, wearing a silver and blue lotus tiara.

I chose it because it reminds me of Hekate, but less... Godlike. It makes me feel more like a force, a pillar, a place.

I feel safe at crossroads. I know what's behind me, and I know that I don't have to make a choice just yet. I can see what's in front of me and not have to run from it.

I wish I had more times like that in life.

I don't know why I started this by saying that. I guess because I wanted to feel protected?

The point of writing is that...

I can feel him again.

It's faint, and I don't know if he's trying to do anything, or just watching, but... I can feel him.

Sometimes it's hard to distinguish between my darkness and his. I am made of broken hearts and banshee screams and silver fog. And he is made of shadow and pain and something small and unidentifiable.

But I start to figure it out with little things.

A sensation almost like the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. An irritability like my panther haunches are raised. The smallest static sound like a faraway whisper. And the faces.

I have many faces, and so does he. But sometimes when he is feeling strong, or I am feeling weak, I see particular ones. For him, I see only flashes of darkness, with his glowing white eyes, or his sharp and blinding smile. And for me, I see the face of a teenage boy, the face from a show I used to watch, gaunt and sick and with red eyes.

He was possessed, that boy. And when I see his face, even healthy, I start to worry my parasite will try something soon.

Something tells me he won't do anything right now, but one can never know for sure.

Even the thought of him is enough to make me feel sick sometimes.