Archive of Our Own ^beta

For the first time amidst his duties, without interruption, Lurien looks up from his telescope. It shocks me to my very core. For so long, I could only recall him as he always was: sat upon a stool, face leaned against the telescope, peering down to behold the bugs below. It is not the kindest image for a bug to behold. If any other than I saw him like that, they might quickly grow unnerved. A watchful gaze like that is not so far removed from an intrusive one. My, what a dismal sight it’d have to be to move him so. I’m almost certain it is one.

“What do you see?” He does not answer. It’s just as well, I do not need one. I already know. The air grows thick with dread. More lost to this pestilence. Bugs awaken unfamiliar and overcome by some strange affliction. We can do nothing but sit in discomfort and fear. The great gates have been sealed. None can enter, and we cannot leave. There is nothing else we can do in hopes to stop it. Well, I cannot. Lurien, however, has received instruction.

He is to head soon to his rest, and that time seems to get closer with every passing moment. I watch him leave the telescope and move to his study. I do not disturb him, I know my place. I wait above for his return, knowing deep down it’ll be the last time I will have to.

--

This kingdom’s capital no longer knows of the Watcher’s gaze. It is still protected by him, albeit in a larger, more prominent way. Though he no longer has need of me now since his duty has bound him to eternal slumber, I have resolved to stay by his side. He needs no protection, his knights are plenty capable of that, but something within me urges me to help in any way I am able. I can offer him my gaze in turn.

Just as he has watched over us, I shall watch over him. This spire needs a watcher, for where else would it get its name? What good is a watcher who sleeps? Yes, I will take up the mantle now. I have resolved to stay by his side from now on.

--

I have not slept in days, months... years, perchance? Sleep calls to me. No, it is my dreams that call. Desperate, wanting. I am firm in my duties. I was firm for as long as I was able. The light is warm, enveloping. It offers a pleasant dream to replace the dreary reality I’ve been left in. Forgive me, Master, but only you could stare down this pestilence. I was a fool to try. It’s been so long, Master. I hope you would forgive me for it.

I am blinded by a giant flash of brilliant light. My eyes are burned until that warmth is all they can behold. I stagger, overwhelmed, regretful even. I brace myself against the plinth my Master rests upon. I cannot bear to look at him so closely. The newfound heat of my gaze is too dangerous. Even if I no longer control myself in full, I am able to pull away. I still desire to protect him, the visceral urge to keep to my self-appointed role. Resigned to sit beside the window, I stay close enough to recognize he is still there, but far away enough not to do harm. I will… I will watch over him...