[8] companion
He isn't counting the days anymore. The concept of time gets a little lost when you've lived this long.
He keeps to himself. After Camelot fell, he thought it best not to bring attention to himself. His disguises are many, but he favors the familiarity of creaky bones and a long, white beard.
The isolation is unbearable at times. Weeks will pass without a word exchanged with another person. But it's the worst when the silence is filled the faces of everyone he's lost, come to haunt him.
He sees her, once.
On one of the days he's using his own face, his own eyes, he takes a walk through a crowded marketplace. The sounds and the smells remind him of the citadel, and sometimes if he tries hard enough he can hear Gwen calling his name as she hurries up behind him.
It's her laugh that he hears first.
Across the street, on the patio of some small cafe, she sits at a small table with a friend. At least, he thinks she is; the other girl is all but invisible to him. All he can see is dark waves of hair, pale skin, and emerald eyes.
He wants to bolt across the busy street. He wants to be with her. But he doesn't.
He can see it by how she laughs. She's happy.
And she can remain happy, if she doesn't remember. If she remembers him, if she remembers what he did, he knows it'll be shattered.
So he turns, retreats back into the crowds. He knows she's better off.