Extra To Protagonist-Chapter 90: Concern

The knock was too soft to be anyone else.

Merlin didn't answer at first. He stayed seated, eyes on the edge of the desk, where a curl of parchment had peeled back under its own weight. The light overhead buzzed faintly, muted and warm, casting the room in shades of orange and shadow.

Another knock. This one slower. Not urgent. Just… present.

Then the door eased open.

Elara stood in the doorway.

She didn't look surprised to see him sitting there, back half-turned toward the entrance. Her coat was slung over one shoulder, hair tied back loosely. A faint edge of fatigue sat under her eyes, but it didn't dull them.

"I said I'd come," she said simply.

Merlin nodded, but it was slow. He didn't stand.

Elara stepped in and shut the door behind her. The soft click echoed louder than it should have.

Her eyes moved across the room once. Desk. Bed. One cup half-filled with tea gone cold. Keryx resting against the wall within easy reach.

She took it in without comment, then pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.

"You're not pretending to read that, are you?" she asked, nodding toward the open paper on the desk.

Merlin's voice was quiet. "No."

"Good. Because it's upside down."

He blinked once. Looked at the page. It was.

Elara leaned back a little, resting her hands in her lap.

The silence wasn't awkward. Just close.

"You didn't sleep," she said.

Merlin's mouth pulled tight. "I rested."

Elara tilted her head. "You were up before dawn. Again. Nathan noticed."

"I didn't ask him to."

"He tells me anyway."

Merlin didn't answer that.

She didn't push.

A breeze passed against the outside windowpane. It rattled slightly in its frame. Merlin didn't move to close it. Neither did she.

After a moment, she shifted forward. Just enough to rest her elbows on the edge of the desk. Her fingers tapped once. Twice.

"You've been even quieter," she said. "Since the accident."

"I'm tired."

"That's not the kind of quiet I meant."

Merlin looked at her now. Really looked.

Her face wasn't guarded. Not unreadable. Just calm in that way only Elara knew how to be. Like she was holding her breath just in case he finally said the thing he hadn't let himself say.

He didn't.

Instead, he sat back a little. Shoulders straight. Hands still.

"You're here for a reason."

"Yes."

"To ask questions you know I won't answer?"

"No."

He watched her.

"I just didn't want to leave you alone again tonight," she said, simple as a fact. "You looked like someone who needed company but didn't know how to ask for it."

Merlin's throat felt dry.

He looked away. Back to the page.

It hadn't changed.

Neither had the weight in his chest.

Elara stood and walked to the edge of the bed, then sat. Not like she was claiming it. Just easing the distance between them.

"I'm not asking you to explain anything," she said.

"Not what happened. Not what you saw. Not even what's coming."

He didn't turn toward her.

She kept going. "But if you're going to carry it, I'm not going to let you carry it alone."

Merlin's hand rested against the surface of the desk. His fingers curled slowly.

'If I let her stay, she'll see more than I want. But if I tell her to go, she'll know it anyway.'

He looked over his shoulder.

Elara was already leaning back, hands behind her on the blanket. Her eyes had softened, just a little.

Like she'd found a place to rest that didn't ask anything of her either.

Merlin turned back toward the desk. He reached for the edge of the parchment and flipped it over.

"You're staying?"

"Obviously."

"Fine."

He left the second chair pulled out. Elara didn't move to fill it again.

They stayed like that.

Quiet.

Even.

Present.

—

Elara leaned her head back against the wall.

The window curtain fluttered again. Outside, the courtyard was empty. Just faint lamplight casting tired shadows across the grass. The kind of light that felt like it wasn't supposed to reach this far inside.

Merlin glanced at her from the edge of the desk. She hadn't moved much. Just shifted her posture until her legs dangled loosely over the side of the bed, boot heels tapping lightly against the frame in a slow, off-beat rhythm.

Neither of them had spoken in a few minutes.

Then she broke the silence.

"Do you ever think about what happens after all this?"

He turned his head slightly. "After what?"

"All of it. The academy. The rifts. The fighting. The… whatever it is we've been doing."

Merlin looked back down at his hands. One knuckle still had a faint cut across it. He didn't remember when that happened. Just that it never quite healed.

Elara didn't wait for him to answer. She shifted again and drew one leg up onto the bed, arms folded across her lap.

"I used to want to join the Arc Vanguard," she said.

Merlin blinked once.

"They're not the strongest or anything. But they protect outer territories. Take missions out in the deeper zones, where the rift stabilities are too weak for normal patrols."

Her voice lowered. "I thought it sounded honest. Just… show up and do the work. Save people. No politics. No posturing."

She glanced over at him. "That probably sounds stupid."

"No."

Merlin leaned back slightly. The chair creaked. He didn't look at her directly.

'I used to know how this conversation went. When it came up in the novel, Elara was always the quiet one during these talks. The steady anchor. The one everyone leaned on. I don't remember her saying any of this. Or maybe I skipped the chapter…No I would never do that.'

"What about you?" she asked.

Merlin's jaw shifted slightly. His gaze stayed low.

"I don't know," he said.

"You've never thought about it?"

'I have. I've thought about everything. Every possible future. Every path that leads to dying a little smarter the next time. I just never thought I'd get far enough for any of it to matter.'

He rubbed his fingers together absently. They still felt cold.

'I need to say something though..'

"Before I came here," he said slowly, "I thought I'd end up in the research branch. Long hours. No field work. Just books and quiet. That kind of thing."

"You'd hate that."

"I know."

There was a pause.

"Do you still think that's where you're heading?"

He closed his eyes for a second. Just one breath. In. Out.

Then he opened them again.

"No."

Elara didn't press. She nodded slightly. Like that was enough.

'I don't think I have a future. Not one I believe in. Everything ahead of me is just fire. Steps toward things I already read and watched unfold. Things I need to change without making them worse. I can't afford to want something that won't survive the next arc.'

But he didn't say any of that out loud.

Elara glanced at the window. Her voice softened again.

"Sometimes I think about disappearing. Just… leaving. Going off-grid. Living somewhere quiet. No missions. No towers. No rankings. Just sky and wind and no one keeping score."

Merlin turned toward her.

"You wouldn't last three days."

She smiled, just faintly. "I'd last five. Six if I brought snacks."

The corners of his mouth twitched.

Her eyes drifted back toward his. Steady. Calm.

"You don't have to figure it out now," she said. "But you should try. Eventually. Before it gets decided for you."

He didn't answer.

A minute passed. Maybe more.

The light from outside dimmed further, the last curve of evening pushing down behind the towers.

Elara shifted again, lying back fully now, arms crossed behind her head on the pillow. She didn't say she was staying. But she didn't leave either.

Merlin stayed seated, hands resting on the desk, posture quiet.

He listened to the breath between her words. The way she didn't ask for anything. The way her presence settled into the space without disrupting it.

He looked at the edge of the desk again.

Then finally, spoke.

"I'll try."

Elara didn't move.

But her voice, when it came, was soft and real.

"Good."

The room had settled into that half-silence only late hours could bring. The kind that didn't feel empty. Just low, even. Steady like breath in the dark.

Merlin hadn't moved in a while. His hands rested loosely over the edge of the desk. The warmth from the tea cup had vanished. He didn't notice.

Across from him, Elara stretched one leg out, toes flexing slightly as if testing the edge of sleep. Her hair had slipped loose from its earlier tie. A strand curved against her cheek, unmoved.

"I should go," she murmured after a long pause.

She didn't move.

Merlin's head tilted slightly. "Then go."

"I said should. I didn't say would."

He looked at her.

Her eyes stayed closed for a few seconds longer, then opened. She didn't lift her head. Just shifted onto her side, one arm tucked under the pillow she'd half claimed.

"Do you mind if I stay?"

He blinked once.

Not confusion. Not surprise. Just… processing.

There wasn't a trace of embarrassment in her tone. No softness forced into the space to make it feel romantic. Just something calm. Real.

"I can sleep on the floor," she added. "Not trying to make this weird."

Merlin exhaled through his nose, quiet and dry.

"I didn't say you were."

She watched him carefully.

"You sure?"

He nodded, then pushed his chair back an inch. The legs dragged softly across the stone tile.

"There's room," he said.