Arthur Pendragon.First year at Camelot University. Studying politics and economics, or so everyone thinks. I've heard all the round table jokes before so please don't start. I'm not like everyone thinks I am. My father basically owns this university, and it's my destiny to one day do the same and make him proud. I love football and I hate Merlin and that's about it.
RP blog for Camelot University RP. Inactive 8/05/2013
The conversation was still going quite slowly, they used a bit of time to figure out replies. It wasnāt particularly silent or awkward though, it just took a while to get used to talking to each other again. Especially after that much time passed by, and after they had both grown into different people than theyād used to be.Ā
āYou really should, in my opinion.ā He smiled, encouraging him. It wasnāt just to be nice or brag about how it made you a āwiser personā or anything, but Arthur could certainly need a proper break from his father. If he travelled for a bit, he would be able to learn a bit more on his own, not always doing what his social status back home allowed him/didnāt allow him to do. āDo it when you get the oppurtunity, at least.ā
āWell, Iāve been to South America and Europe, mostly.ā he scratched his forehead softly. Ā ā.. So far.ā he added with a cheeky smile. āBut yeah, just go wherever you want to.ā In Leonās case heād picked some of his destinations based on his own echonomy, but that would probably not be such a problem for Arthur. āIād reccomend not going only to the famous touristcities though. Itās nicer visiting small towns and such, in my opinion. But it gets a bit more difficult languagewise, though.ā Leon stopped there. He easily started rambling on when he talked about travelling (he was quite passionate about that interest too, after all), but he didnāt want to bore Arhtur with it either.Ā
āI love the classes here! Our teachers are really great.ā The ending to that was sort of a conversationkiller, really. He bit his lip slightly, plotting out how to keep the conversation going. āUhm.. What about your classes? And teachers, for that matter?ā Leon pulled his hair back, trying to move it away from his eyes. He kind of needed a haircut, but he kind of liked it long too. Arthurās hair was mostly the same as always, but his face looked a lot more mature, so it looked different anyway.
āAre you busy lately?ā Leon figured he needed to hang more out with Arthur, while he had the chance. And he wasnāt really that busy outside classes either, so he wanted to use that time for something to pass it with. Of course, heād keep photographing like always. But it wasnāt a bad idea to work a bit on getting more of a social-life either.Ā
Whilst it took a bit of getting used to, talking to Leon again, Arthur found they slipped rather easily back into their old pattern. It felt light and natural talking to him, he knew Leon wasn't someone he had to impress or act differently around. They found themselves at the top of the path, it turned to run parallel along the outer castle wall and along to the entrance to the courtyard. Arthur smiled as Leon talked about his travels, he sounded excited and reminiscent as soon as they moved onto the subject - Arthur wondered vaguely if travelling would do the same thing to him.Ā
He nodded at his friend's suggestion, storing them away mentally for that far-off day when heĀ couldĀ really drop everything and go galavanting across the world, with no ties or responsibilties to stop him. He knew he was kidding himself, but it didn't hurt to dream.
"Oh, mate I'm always busy." Arthur joked, smiling as he wiped his fringe from his eyes.
"But classes are alright, well, I might have made one or two changes to my father's pre-approved courses." He cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "So I'm studying classics and history, with some economics on the side to keep Uther off my back, he doesn't know I've made the change you see." And Arthur knewĀ that one day, probably very soon, this would all come back to bite him, that Uther would actually look at his exam marks or god forbid ask a teacher how he was doing and- well, Arthur would cross that bridge when he came to it.
"You know what we need? A proper catch up. You, me and Gwaine need to grab a drink some time, unless your timeĀ trekkingĀ across the Himalayas or wherever has turned you into some sort of tee-total zen master or something?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, before laughing, clapping his hand on Leon's back as they arrived at the courtyard entrance.
Morgause stayed where she was, by Richardās side. Richard was looking at Arthur with surprise, too, but he didnāt say anything, because Morgause spoke before he could.
āWhat does it look like?ā she asked, frowning, āVisiting an old friend. And didnāt your father teach you that itās very disrespectful to be barging in rooms uninvited, especially a room where an ill person is resting,ā she said, throwing a dirty look towards Arthur and raising her chin.Ā
āThere, there,ā said Richard, with a kind smile, āItās alright, Morgause.āĀ He took Mogauseās hand and petted it with such familiarity that even Morgause felt like they did know each other well. āCome on in, Arthur. Iām sorry, had I been expecting your visit, I wouldāve had something prepared. But it seems like both you and Morgause decided to turn up unannounced,ā he added, and send the boy a fond smile. It wasnāt a reproach, just an observation.Ā
Morgause was slightly nervous, worried about what Arthur mightāve heard or seen. Not really for herself, but for Richardā¦ She chose not to pick up a fight with Arthur this time, focusing her attention back on the old man. His face seemed to have changed, he had a better colour. She noticed then, that he still had some hair in his head yet he had cancer. She wondered what that was about, but before she could ask him, he spoke again.Ā
āI wasnāt aware that you two know each other, though,ā said Richard, āBut of course, both of you being students at Camelot, it was to be expectedā¦āĀ
Arthur found himself wavering sheepishly on the threshold of the man's room. His mouth began to form a word as he stared curiously at Morgause, but he thought better of it - taking a step forward and trying to compose himself again.
"I am awfully sorry Mr. Gilmore, if I intruded that is, I just, I- thought I heard...Ā never-mind." He stumbled over his words as he approached the man in the hospital bed.
"Forgive me, it's been a while since we've seen each other, I, uh, I hope you're well."Ā Arthur tried to stop him cheeks fromĀ reddeningĀ for a reason other than the fact he'd just asked a man dying from cancer if he wasĀ well.Ā Arthur recalled their last encounter, Mr. Gilmore pulling back the curtain to find ArthurĀ eavesdroppingĀ He never had thanked the man for not telling Uther about it.
Arthur shifted awkwardly on one foot and took Mr. Gilmore in for the first time. He looked older and frailer than he'd expected, although he hardly knew what to expect given he hadn't seen Mr. Gilmore in close to 5 years. Arthur didn't exactly know where to look, nor where to put his hands, he found his gaze restingĀ involuntarilyĀ on the heart monitor that was beeping quietly to itself.Ā
"Yes, well, Morgause is friends with my-uh, with Morgana." And Christ, Arthur had no idea how to even begin to explain anything. He didn't know if Mr. Gilmore knew of Morgana's true relation to Arthur and he couldn't exactly come out and say that Morgause was a evil, manipulative bitch who had more than once threatened to castrate him. And that brought Arthur back to where he'd began. To magic. To the fade of gold in Morgause's eyes that made Arthur question what he'd actually seen. Surely Morgause couldn't have beenĀ practicingĀ magic infront of him, Mr. Gilmore couldn't evenĀ knowĀ about her magic - he was a friend of Uther's for crying out loud! Or at leastĀ wasĀ a friend of Uther's.Ā
"I'm as good as be expected, and please call me Richard." The old man spoke softly as casually as if he and Arthur were old friends, but he cast curious eyes between Morgause and him as if he knew they weren't exactly happy to be in the same room. Ā
Arthur swallowed dryly and turned stiffly to Morgause, forcing a smile onto his face, although his eyes were as cold as steel.Ā
"And what exactly is your relation to Mr. Gil- Richard?" Arthur said stiffly, his tone not giving anything away, but he made sure Morgause knew what he really meant with his glare.Ā
Mordred didnāt take to kindly to being shoved around by Arthur pendragon, but he guessed he could take one for the team since Arthur did finally man up and choose some peanut butter after 5 agonizing minutes of staring. I mean really money was no object to the guy so how could it take that long to chose a jar? But he finally did it, depositing his finds into the trolley, and thatās all that mattered at this point
God itās like training a puppyĀ he thought to himself. Which lead Mordred to wonder absentmindedly if he should have a little pack full of treats for Arthur so he could reward him every time he did something right or made a good decision.Ā Haha Now wouldnāt that Ā be a sight to see.
āYouāre such a good dog arthur, yes you are, yes you are!ā
But then of course in true out of control puppy fashion Arthur decided to just run the trolleyĀ into the first shelf heĀ could find knocking over boxes of rice and then curse loudly about it while a little old lady passing by gave him a dirty look.
Goodness gracious he was going to have to put a freaking leash on Arthur one of these days.
āArthurā Mordred groaned crouching down to pick up the mess the giant blonde puppy had created. āJust stop for a second and breatheā He said trusting that he could take his eyes of the 19 year old for a few seconds and the store wouldnāt end in destruction. But then again one never knew. So leaving Arthur to do whatever, the younger boy concetrated on putting everything just as it should be before standing up to face the older boy eye to eye.Ā
āOk first things first. I am not your maid, your cook ,or even Merlin. I am not obligated to help you in any way because your father is waving a paycheck or a servant scholarship in my face and I will not, no I refuse to help you if you throw a fit every two seconds because something has happened that you cant control.ā Mordred huffed in practically one breath before realizing people were kinda staring.Ā
He shouldnāt be talking this way to Arthur Pendragon and he knew it. But unlike probably most people in his life, Mordred didnāt have anything to lose from standing up to Arthur. So he was going to do it, and he was going to tell him the god forsaken truth whether he liked it or not.
āSo you need to calm down and act like a man instead of the bumbling blubbering toddler you are currently channeling.ā Mordred added slower this time āSo take a few seconds to get your shit together, go into zen mode or whatever, and then and only then will we try this again alrightāĀ
Arthur narrowed his eyes silently at Mordred for a few moments. The truth was Arthur didn't know why he bothered with the boy. If anyone else spoke to him like that he wouldn't put up with it, he didn'tĀ haveĀ to put up with it - not that all that many people did infact speak to him in the way Mordred had.Ā
Despite not being particularlyĀ close Arthur had to admit he felt a certain connectionĀ with the kid. If he were a psychologist, Arthur might hazard a guess that it stemmed from his relatively secluded childhood with not much contact with people of his own age, nor any younger, or older for that matter,Ā siblingsĀ for him to interact with. Arthur wasn't even that particularly fond of Mordred, he was angsty and out of his depth and had a tendency to be condescending despite his age - but there had to be something to explain that fact Arthur hadn't emptied a cereal packet on his head and told him where to shove it.Ā
Arthur made aĀ hummingĀ noise of affirmation and habitually chewed at his bottom lip. He felt his shoulders relax a little and he dislodged the trolly from the shelf.Ā
"Ok." He said, taking a deep breath to show Mordred that breathing was definitely a thing he could do.
"But let's be clear here, you ever tell me toĀ be a manĀ again and I will dress you in a maid outfit, tie you to this trolley and send you on a trip down the hill." He added with sincerity, raising one eye at Mordred so he didn't get too carried away and think that telling Arthur what to do should be a normal occurrence for him.Ā
"Coffee. Biscuits. Toothbrush. Where can I find them?" It was stupid but after Mordred's outburst Arthur felt decidedly calmer and more in-control.
"Thank you." He added after a moment or two, spinning his trolley around.
Morgana had to admit his last words stung, perhaps a lot more than he even intended. It all came down to jealousy and hurt, really. Uther, wanted Arthur more, and he had not made a secret of it, or rather he had until she found him out. Perhaps, if he had told her from the age of ten when she came to live with them, that he was her father, then all of this wouldnāt be necessary. But then, there was the matter of his fortune and Uther still wanted to give it to Arthur- why not Morgana? Why did he have to hide such a truth from her because he didnāt want her having his fortune? Was she really that much of a disappointment?
āItās not about his money!ā She snapped at him, sure he thought her shallow and naive to fight such a battle over money. Money could not make all of this go away, it could not fix the things Uther had broken or wipe away this tragedy, money could do nothing for her. āItās the fact that heās lied to me, all my life heās lied to me because he doesnāt want me having his money!ā She snarled at him, because she didnāt have it, she wanted it more. āAnd he thinks- he thinks he can get away with everything!ā
āHeās more bothered about his pride than his blood!ā And surely that was wrong in every sense, Uther was a hateful man and Arthur was blinded by it. āBut what would you know? Heās never lied to you like he has me, heās never denied you anything!ā Not even her money which he was so freely giving to Arthur. āAnd tell me what he was protecting me from?ā She walked closer to him again, anger flared upon her face.
āHis own lies? His own regrets? Because if I hadnāt found out myself he would have taken that secret to the grave. Just to save his own skin.ā Uther Pendragon was a pathetic excuse for a man, and Arthur wasnāt far behind him.
āI canāt believe youāre even defending him!ā She shouted in disbelief. āThe only reason youāre all for him is because the moment you turn your back, youāll be disinherited- you wouldnāt even have the guts to turn away, youāre too afraid of him!ā
āAnd no, Iām sorry if I havenāt sat back and thought about you- because everything has to be about you, doesnāt it?ā She hissed, finding it hard to believe that Arthur had any right to be in her room shouting at her. āYouāre always so selfish, you always have been! Like father like son!ā She was furious at him, she wanted to grab him by the scruff of the neck and throw him out the door, and claw at him, thumping him until he begged her to stop, but they werenāt children and those games were over.
āI have every right to fight for that money, to show you and Uther that I wonāt just lay down and take it- did you really think a hug and cup of tea would make up for everything? All his lies, the fact that he denied his own daughter?ā She snapped, her temper growing, but she turned away from him just asĀ quicklyĀ as she had looked at him, her hands balled into fists as she tried to calm herself.
āIf you were in my placeā¦ If he had done this to you- donāt try and tell me you would have done differently.ā Her voice was a lot steadier, a lot calmer as she moved to look at him again. āIf Uther had denied you as his son and gave everything he had to me, youād be angry too. Youād want to fight back just as much as I do.ā
Arthur forced himself to be quiet. Despite every bone in his body wanting to scream out at Morgana, to make her be quiet, to show her how wrong she was, he remained still and silent. When she'd finished he found himself blinking back tears that he didn't know were there.Ā
They weren't tears because Morgana was shouting, or because she was angry or even because Arthur found himself admitting that sheĀ wasĀ right in some of her accusations, but rather that Arthur had come to theĀ realizationĀ that he'd lost his sister as soon as he had found her.Ā
He sighed heavily, turning away from her gaze, ran his hand through his hair and took to staring out of her window so she couldn't see the tears pooling.
"IĀ amĀ angry. You don't even know how much." He said quietly. The silence that had replaced their screaming match was almost deafening, it felt thick and stretched and Arthur felt suddenly very tired, as if the stress of everything was finallyĀ becomingĀ apparent.Ā
"You're serious, aren't you?" He said finally, speaking slowly, finally turning his gaze back to her. He didn't care if she saw him crying, maybe she'd realize how much she was hurting him.
"This is real. Because you can't turn back now, if this is what you want to do if you want to... break what little family you have then you have to mean it." Arthur breathed, counted the seconds, a group of students walked past outside Morgana's door, laughing loudly.
Percy enjoyed water fights. Heād practically grown up on them. There was so many of them in the Du Graal family that there was enough for two serious teams, not to mention the extras of extended family and friends. It brought back great memories of laughing and joking and play fighting with his siblings.
So when the university had announced the Easter event, a water fight, he had beenā¦excited. It was a school wide water fight - who wouldnāt be excited? Heād already gotten a few of the red team, mostly those in the younger years, but he was looking for big game. That was when he saw Arthur further above them, a balcony, Percy had just grinned and slowly made his way up.
He thought he was beingĀ stealthyĀ or something, but that was probably difficult with his stature. When Arthur turned to him, water gun poised to strike and said those six words, well, Percy laughed.
āSeriously? āChose your next move very carefullyā?ā he mockedĀ good-naturedly, āThis is a water fight, not a shoot out.āĀ
The edge's of Arthur's mouth crept upwards in a smile as he realized who he was pointing his water-gun at. Nevertheless, he tried to keep asĀ neutralĀ a expression as he could muster as he looked down at Percival, a few steps below him on the stone staircase.Ā
"I'll have you know I take this very seriously." He said slowly, trying his best not to laugh but still determined thatĀ heĀ would come out best from this. Percival didn't even have his own water-gun raised, although Arthur didn't doubt that despite his size he probably had lightning reflexes.Ā
"And technically it is a shoot-out, just with water, and one that you're going to lose." With that Arthur smirked, taking some rapid steps backwards until he figured he'd be out of range of Percival'sĀ retaliationĀ As he did so he pressed the trigger of his childhood gun, sending a surprisingly fierce stream of water in the other man's direction, hitting him squarely in the face. Or so Arthur hoped, he couldn't actually see because he realized he was instead staring at the sky, having tripped and fallen backwards on a loose stone of the balcony. He silently cursed the schools lousyĀ maintenanceĀ budget on his father's part, scramblingĀ desperatelyĀ to point his gun at Percy again who was likely climbing the stairs to launch his own attack.Ā Ā Ā
Like it had happened with every other spell since sheād been initiated, Morgause knew the theory, perhaps had practised a little bit, but wasnāt really sure the spell would work once she tried it for real. And it was very, very important for this one to work, because a manās life was at stake. A good manās life.Ā
Morgause didnāt know Richard Gilmore. The first time she heard the name was when Ailidh contacted her and told her that Richard Gilmore was a Welsh, wealthy old man, and also a High Priest of the Old Religion. He wasnāt one of the Blood Guardians, but he was powerful, and a great and faithful servant and friend to The Nine for many decades.Ā
Richard Gilmore was also in the last stage of aĀ lymphaticĀ cancer. He was a man of seventy or so, and while he was extremely powerful, the disease took him by surprise, when there was not much neither doctors not himself, with his magic, could do to cure it. But, unlike Morgauseās grandmother, who had also died of cancer, he refused to die. It wasnāt his time yet, he knew it. His body was, perhaps, broken, but his spirit was intact, and he refused to let go of life.Ā
And so it was appointed to Morgause the task of healing him. Right. Because that was super easy.Ā
To say she was nervous would be the understatement of the century. But Ailidh sent her the coordinates to where she would have to go, and exactly at what time. It was in bloody Cardiff. Morgause told her she could easily take the bus instead, but Ailidh said she had to do it with magic. It would be better if no one found out Morgause knew Richard. It would raise suspicions. Morgause wondered if she was now raising suspicions on every single person she interacted with, but she didnāt voice it.Ā
She did as she was told. It was a Sunday afternoon. Richardās wife had some weekly meeting of something that Richard had insisted her not to drop to just stay by his bedside and weep. The rest of his children were not to be around at that hour, only a few servants in the house, and heād instruct his nurse to go outside, take a break, leave him alone. If there were any unexpected happenings that could hinder their meeting, heād contact Morgause directly and immediately to let her know.Ā
But it seemed like there werenāt any, and so Morgause found herself standing in front of her bathroomās door, in her room at Camelot. She whispered the words of the spell she knew by heart now and the Rowan Tree, as if craven in golden light on the wood, appeared on the door. She opened it, walked through the three steps of absolute darkness, and found herself coming out of a closet into a big and richly furnished bedroom in a house in Cardiff. She closed the door behind her, and the passage back to her room with it.Ā
In the bed, right in front of her, laid a man, connected to several machines, the beepā¦ beepā¦ beep of his beating heart both a horrible reminded of bad days to Morgause, and also a relief. He was alive. It was up to her that he stayed so.
āHello,ā he said, and smiled.
He was a big man, he looked stronger than such a disease could suggest. His eyes were grey and bright, and his hairline was receding, but he had an air of reverence and power to himself.Ā
Morgause nodded as a greeting, and said, āHello.ā
āWelcome, my lady,ā he said.Ā
āOh please,ā said Morgause, shrugging, āCall me Morgause.ā
He grinned.Ā
āAh, you donāt like old rules.ā
āIām not particularly fond of that one,ā she said, āBut not many of you call us that anymore.ā
āWell, Iām old-fashioned,ā he said, the smile never dropping off his face, āBut alright, Morgause it is. You could be my granddaughter, after all.ā
āOr your disciple,ā she added, because she could feel it, now that she was in the roomāRichardās magic, restless, powerful, fighting against the disease on its own but unable to do much. Perhaps this wouldnāt be as hard as sheād first thought, if she had such a tremendous backup.Ā
His smile grew bigger. He seemed pleased with her compliment.Ā
āThank you for coming.ā
Morgause shook her head.
āDonāt mention it. Iām sorry, Iām not good at small talk. Shall we begin?ā
He nodded, and though he looked strong and determined, it seemed now to Morgause that the disease had indeed weakened him a lot. She wondered how this man would look like, standing on his own two feet rather than connected to machines and meds, doing magic. It was probably a sight to behold, something she wanted to experience for herself.Ā
āPlease,ā he said.Ā
Morgause crossed the room in a few quick steps and stood to his left. She put her hands on his chest, right were his heart was beating. She could feel his magic there, beating too, refusing to leave him, refusing to abandon. It was so much different from when her grandmother had died. But it was not time for reminiscing.Ā
Morgause started to recite the spell, her voice clear and loud. Richard closed his eyes, completely at her mercy, absolutely trusting. Morgause felt her magic, strong like the force of nature, flow through her body, through her hands, moving to Richardās. She felt Richardās magic appease and let it through, as a docile dog would let its old master pet him, and she also felt as her magic moved through every cell of his body, searching for what was wrong, fixing it, changing it, giving him a chance to live in health again.Ā
She finished pronouncing the words and her magic receded quickly, but just a millisecond after sheād finished the spell, the door opened violently, startling both her and Richard. Morgause looked up. Right in front of her, standing on the threshold, was Arthur Pendragon.
Arthur tried to picture the man. When he'd last seen him it had been through a crack in the doorframe of Uther's study. Arthur had been 15 or so, still taking to sitting with his side hunched against the door, head pressed against the wood,Ā eavesdroppingĀ in on his father's conversations. It made him feel grown-up, like he'd found a door into his father's world - even if he understood little of what he overheard.Ā
On that night the voices had been muffled, drowned by the classical music swelling from his father's antique record player that nestled between his desk and bookshelf. Morgana had stalked past Arthur sitting on the floor of the shadowy corridor, rolling her eyes at him but Arthur remained where he was, intent on listening in. At one point it sounded as if a glass had dropped, a heavy one by the sound of it. Arthur heard his father's raised voice and he pressed himself closer into the wood panelling. Nothing. The door had opened quickly and Arthur folded himself quickly into the wall, pulling the velvet curtain across, peaking around the sides. Only one man exited the room though.
Mr. Gilmore was taller than Uther, thick greying hair even back then, he wore a pressed suit and he fiddled with his cuff, pausing outside the study door. Arthur's breath caught when he turned around very suddenly, sweeping aside the curtain as if he knew Arthur had been there all along. Arthur closed his eyes, braced himself for what was coming. But it didn't.Ā
Arthur blinked open, confused - Uther would have slapped him over the head, sent him to his room in a fit of anger if he'd caught himĀ eavesdropping.Ā Mr Gilmore just looked at him with an expression of amusement, ruffled Arthur's hair and walked away.
~
"He just wants you to visit him, Arthur. And I want you too give him my best wishes, he's a dying man and you will pay him this respect." Uther's tone was stern but slightly bored, Arthur guessed he had the phone in one hand, pen and paper in the other. He only ever half listened to Arthur anyway.
"ButĀ why?Ā I can hardly even remember the man!"
"He's an old friend and you will do as I say."
"If he'd your old friend why don'tĀ youĀ visit him?"
There was a pause. Rustle of paper. The pouring of liquid.
"We had a... falling out. Years ago, it's best if I don't see him, anyway he asked for you and you alone. I don't know why, perhaps he remembers you."
"I-"
"Arthur you will go to Cardiff, you will visit Richard Gilmore, give him both of our best wishes and king regards and then you will leave. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, father."
~
The house was old and grand, nestled in a row of terraces in an upmarket part of Cardiff. Arthur pulled up outside, the shutters were drawn tightly shut despite it being a relatively sunny day.Ā
He knocked twice on the black door, the knocker hanging from the mouth of an unfriendly looking lion. Arthur heard noises from within as he peered in past the shutters to a grand drawing room. All of the furniture seemed to be covered in white sheets, packed away before the man had even died. Arthur found it rather morbid.
The door opened a small lady in a nursing uniform stood there, looking Arthur up and down.Ā
"Yes?" She spoke with an eastern European accent.
"I- I'm Arthur. Arthur Pendragon, my father and Mr. Gilmore were friends and apparently he asked for me. I, I uh brought him these."
Arthur handed her a sparse boquet of flowers. He hadn't known what to buy a dying man so he opted for a small array of peonies. The gesture seemed rather stupid now he thought of it.
"Mr. Gilmore ees resting, but you can, eh, go up and see heem. Just don't be too long."Ā
Arthur nodded, stepping past her and into the dimly lit house.Ā
"Top of thee steers, to thee right."Ā
Arthur's tried to step carefully and quietly, as if he was being disrespectful by even being there. He didn't know what he'd say to man, nor what he expected of him. He reached the top, finding the only door with light leaking out the bottom. He paused, noticing a female's voice from within, although he couldn't quite make out what it was saying. Perhaps he had another nurse with him but there- there was something familiar about the voice. Arthur froze where he was, the surged forward, turning the handle and pushing at the door.Ā
The room was lighter than the rest of the house. That was the first thing he noticed. The second was a hospital bed against one wall, with monitors and wires and a IV drip.Ā
The third was the panicked and surprised look on Morgause's face. And, although he could be mistaken, the fade of gold from her otherwise blue eyes.
āOnly the ready meals and breakfast cereal? Wow Arthur normal people at least make it to the Feminine Hygiene and baking items before thinking of offing themselvesā Mordred replied, fighting the urge to reach out and just take the fruit (which he believed was an orange but that was hard to tell with a giant freaking hand around it) from Pendragon and put it in a produce bag for the helpless creature.
I mean really he did look mighty pitiful standing there like that with his hair a bit unkempt and look on his face like he was really about ready to just crumple onto the floor and start wailing like a two year old.Ā And then something happened that Mordred would have never dreamed of.Ā
āHelp me.ā Arthur blurted out rather suddenly catching the younger boy by surprise.
āW-what?ā Mordred mumbled out clutching is own hand basket tighter brows knitted in confusion.
Arthur pendragon wantedĀ his help. Arthur Pendragon wanted his help. Arthur Pendragon wanted his help. And with that realization Mordred was torn between hightailing it out of there as fast as he could before he startedĀ hyperventilating and laughing because honestly Arthur Pendragon wanted his help? God was he high or something?
āHelp me get this entire list and I will buy youā¦ uh, burritos? Marshmallows.Ā Anything.Ā Iāll buy you anything, but notĀ alcohol. OrĀ cigarettes. No.āĀ
āWell or your information I donātĀ s-smoke cigarettes, itās a horrible habit, and I could actually get a-alcohol myself if I really wanted tooā Mordred retorted quickly, hoping the simple act of rebuttal wouldĀ snap him out of this panicy thing he was feeling since freaking Arthur Pendragon wanted HIS HELP.
But of course it didnāt really and so the younger boy was left there knowing what a douche move it would be to not at least try to throw a life ring to this obviously floundering boy even though his body was not exactly ok with this deal yet.Ā Sighing, he took the list from arthur, pretending as always that nothing was wrong with this excahnge as he scanned itās contents.
And it was then of course Arthurās stupidity brought Mordred back to his senses and everything was right with the world again.Ā
āOh my godā Mordred groaned āSeriously Arthur? How could you have missed peanut butter?Ā Itās literally right there.ā Holding a hand out the younger boy pointed to the row of shelves across the way three of them holding what would ya know.
Arthur swallowed. His mouth felt dry and he blinked against the harsh artifical light. If it weren't for the factĀ heĀ actually needed to eat tonight,Ā and couldn't face theĀ humiliationĀ of admitting to Merlin he failed at shopping, he would have probably bolted from the store then and there.Ā
"But that isn't even a solution!"Ā OH no Arthur let it go, please.Ā He crossed, very matter-of-factly, in the direction of Mordred's gaze to the shelf containing said Peanut butter jars.
"WhatĀ brandĀ do I buy? Chunky or smooth or semi-smooth or fat-free, sugar free,Ā glutenĀ free, organic, salt free, hm?" And now other shoppers were staring, at the 19 year-old throwing a tantrum about peanut butter. It was obscene. Arthur took a deep breath, taking oneĀ semi-smooth, fat, salt & sugar free organic peanut butterĀ jar from the shelf, to cover all the bases. He placed it carefully in his trolley.Ā
"Ok." He half-sighed. "I've never really shopped forĀ groceriesĀ before. I mean I have, for... you know, a few things on vacation or whatever, but never theĀ properĀ weekly groceries, you know? I've always had a cook, or a maid, or a Merlin to do it for me." Arthur wondered vaguely if there was a support group for things like this.Ā Hello, my name is Arthur and I'm an over-privilegedĀ clueless brat who doesn't know how to shop for food.Ā Ā AcceptanceĀ is the first step to recovery and all that.Ā
"Which is why you're helping me!" Arthur said, a bit more cheerfully than he thought he'd be able to manage as he pulled Mordred alongside by the shoulder, pushing his trolley towards the aisles and keeping it clear of any rogue children.Ā
"I need a new toothbrush, and cereal- we need to revisit that problem, ummm... pasta, milk, eggs, cheese, shampoo, condom-Ā coffee,Ā I meant coffee." Arthur folded the list in half, deciding quickly to keep that particular item to himself. He grimaced as the left side of the trolly collided sharply with a shelf, sending three boxes tumbling to the shop floor. Arthur cursed loudly.
"And we need a new trolley because it isĀ notĀ my driving that is the problem here!"Ā
When Arthur had turned ten, he'd been given a water-gun for his birthday. Of course, being ArthurĀ PendragonĀ meant it was one of the most technologically advanced barely legal and completelyĀ inappropriatelyĀ high-poweredĀ water-gunĀ a nine year old could wish for (and came alongside a good set of other presents, theirĀ amountingĀ sum similar to the average person's annual wages). The weekend prior to Easter, Arthur drove home for dinner with his father. It was about a two hour journey, he made the trip only about once a month - his father insisted they spent time together even though his trips usually were nothing more than them sharing dinner at their oversized formal dinning table, sitting at opposite ends and filling the silence with awkward pleasantries until Uther retired to his office and Arthur was left to drive back to uni or spend the night in his old room. That weekend however, before driving back he took the sprialling stone staircase up to the attic of the manor house. It was dark and dust laden, a typical creepy loft filled with objects and memories. Arthur edged his way in, sliding past boxes of photo albums, christmasĀ ornamentsĀ old furniture - even crates piled up containing his mother's old things. He stopped when he reached a particular stack of boxesĀ labeledĀ "ARTHUR" written in sloppy, 13-or-so-year-old handwriting. He pried it open, smiling as he rummaged through and picked out the bright yellow and orange water gun.Ā
~
Two large portable pools, each filled to the brim with water had been erected in the courtyard. One was blue, the other was red. Arthur donned a bright red t-shirt, two thick warrior-esque stripes of crimson face paint on hisĀ cheeks,Ā his hair was pushed off his forehead by a make-shift headband of red material he'd torn from his shirt.Ā
It was ridiculous really, how un-grown up most students were. Sure they could pull of a sophisticated and mature image, most of the time at least, but present any of them with an opportunity to pretend to shoot each other and you'd think they were five years old again.Ā
Arthur was rather proud of himself, despite the aquatic carnage below him, he was spotless, and the tank on his overpowered childhood watergun was still threeĀ quartersĀ full. He stood at a vantage point, a balcony overlooking the courtyard, a staircase leading up from just beside the grand hall. Above him, students shouted as they hauled red and blue buckets of water down onto the writhing, soaked crowd that were battlingĀ fiercelyĀ Arthur raised his own gun, steady and precise like a mediaval archer taking aim from his battlements. He was about to shoot a steady stream of water into a blue team's head when he senses someone ascending the steps next to him, up to the balcony. He swung his aim quickly, only taking in the blue t-shirt theĀ assailantĀ was wearing.
"Chose your next move very carefully" Arthur warned, a serious a tone as he could muster.Ā
Lamia walks out of her dorm, watching the ground as she walked rather than where she was going. She couldnāt afford to draw too much attention to herself.
Arthur shut his dorm room door quietly, deciding he'd head out for a walk to try and clear his head. His brisk walk down the corridor was cut abruptly short when he sawĀ her,Ā walking with her eyes locked on the ground.
Morgana kept her gaze fixated on him, sheād never seen Arthur this angry and there was a few times she wanted to intervene in his long speech but she decided against it, he was already yelling very loudly and they didnāt need Morgana yelling on top of that to get people listening in although she could understand many people already had their ears glued on the wall to listen in on the Pendragon brawl.
Morgana always felt as though herself and Arthur were like a ticking time bomb, after the discovery of her parentage she noticed their drift from both him and Uther, and it was only a matter of time before either of them blew up at each other, she guessed this was it.
āOf course, a Pendragon would only deny their own daughter!ā She shouted at him with bared teeth, how dare he try and make out she was theĀ villainĀ the monster in all this; Uther was robbing her of the fortune she deserved and handing it over to his son, her brother- how was that fair? Did Arthur really believe she was going to let him have it?
However then he practically had her pinned up against her own bedroom wall, and she didnāt like it. Never in all their arguments (which consisted of typical things such things stolen out of bedrooms or in Morganaās case, Arthur just being in her room as a teenager) had he turned so aggressive towards her, never had he left her with no room to escape with a tone so threatening she half believed it. When he raised his hand, still clutching the paper she thought for a split second that he might slap her, that the only way to calm him down entirely was to leave his mark on her in a flash of rage that he would sooner regret. But then his palm went thudding into the wall beside her head and she flinched. Her heart was booming in her chest and she felt fear within her, a horrible emotion that showed nothing more than weakness, and she felt it because of Arthur- she was intimidated by Arthur, and she realised he saw the fear in her eyes, and that made her want to slap him.
After a moment of simply taking in what had just happened, staring at him with wide eyes of astonishment, she then knitted her brows together and realised that Arthur would not do this to her, she would not be belittled by him. She placed both her hands on his arm and shoved him off aggressively, moving a great deal away from him across the room where he could not trap her again.
She took a few moments to compose herself, this was Arthur Pendragon, and he would never make her feel that way again. Morgana turned to him, frown still in place but still perhaps a bit shaken by his actions and overall attitude towards the letter, aĀ situationĀ she could not help.
āDidĀ you expect me to ring you up?ā She hissed as she began her tangent. āLike weāre old pals and tell you to expect a letter from myĀ solicitorĀ through the door?ā How truly naive was he, to want to believe she would warn him beforehand. āAnd itās not meĀ rippingĀ this family apart, itāsĀ UtherĀ ā She screamed at him, winching her eyes in anger, she was tired of being blamed for what Uther had done, he had wrecked this family, he had torn what they had to pieces, just because she was fighting back didnāt make her the monster. āIām sick of being blamed for his crimes!ā
āYouāre too blinded by him that you canāt see what heās done!ā She snapped. āDo you ever just think for a second about what heās done to me? I can never forgive him!ā So it was best Arthur stop trying. āHe denied me, he lied to me all his life as though I wasnāt good enough, as though you were better than me!ā And truly how wrong was it for a father to have favourites. āHe didnāt want me anywhere near that fortune, so he hid it from me- he deserves whatās coming!ā Because she honestly didnāt see how Uther had a chance, even with his big fancy lawyers.
āAnd you deserve it too!ā Perhaps she didnāt mean that, or perhaps she did. āYou stand by him, after all heās done and you call me the monster- do you expect me to run to him with open arms and forget the whole thing? Do you really take me for a fool?ā She snapped, angry now, it boiled up inside of her, the rage that sheād swallowed for so long. āBut of course, why would you rebel against him? Standing up for me means youāll lose your pretty fortune.ā She found herself sneer at him. āHe hasnāt wronged you in anyway, so why should you fight him?ā Arthur was a coward, and sheād only realised that the moment this scandal came out. āYouāre exactly like him! In fact youāre so much like him I barely know if itās you or him Iām talking to!ā
Morgana's words seemed muffled and distant, as if she was shouting from far away or from another room. Arthur's palm was stinging, he could feel heat from where it had come into contact with the wall. He supposed he should be grateful it hadn't come into contact with Morgana's face - Arthur was still reeling from the fact he'd been ready to hit her, toĀ hurtĀ her for what she'd done to him, what sheĀ wasĀ doing to him. Her mouth was moving, curling up in a nasty snarl at the end of words but somehow Arthur couldn't quite hear her, and he couldn't meet her eyes. He somewhat registered that she'd shoved him quiteĀ forcefullyĀ and she now stood in the center of the room. Arthur blinked rapidly, staring at the floor because it was the only thing that didn't make him angry and confused.
A few heavy moments drew out when Morgana had finished, before Arthur snapped himself back into reality and realized he should say something, or better yet back his way out of her room and hide away from thisĀ thingĀ - Arthur didn't even know what to call it.
"Is this really what it's about, Morgana?"Ā No,Ā they'd spent the last 3 monthsĀ backing awayĀ from the problem, pretending it didn't exist - masking it instead with simple banter and general avoidance. Arthur couldn't believe he actually thought things might be alright between them ever since that god damned scavenger hunt. He almost felt like laughing. Infact, he did, a small note of laughter escaped him.
"I meanĀ really?Ā I mean god knows you're shallow, you love nothing more than waisting away Uther's money on dresses and shoes and whatever your heart desires, and I'm not saying I'm any different, christ I don't know if I'd last a day without his money but all ofĀ this..."Ā Arthur made a wide-eyed, verging onĀ hystericalĀ hand gesture.
"... this hatred andĀ resentmentĀ and plotting is because of hisĀ money?" Arthur tried to reign himself in again, felt his blood boiling as it had before as he took a step towards his sister - it was different to before, he didn't mean to threaten or scare or hurt her now, it was more controlled.
"It's not about that, is it? It's about you. It's always about you, Morgana. It always has been. It's about you, and how you somehow feel cheated. You feel like you can buy back those years spent without a father, and punish the man that treated you just like one, who treated you as his own daughter, simply for protecting you from a truth that we both know you couldn't bare." Arthur spat out his words in a way that Morgana herself would probably be rather proud of. These were the words he'd been dying to say to her ever since this all happened. Ever since that night, the night where Arthur had awoken to hear them screaming at each other, glass breaking, Morgana running to her room and not coming out for close to 3 days. He'd never been able to, of course.Ā
"And you think you're the only one with the right to be angry! You never once stopped to think thatĀ IĀ could be hurt, thatĀ IĀ could be angry as well, you saw me as the enemy from day one, not because I believe that my father is a good man, and support him and stand by his side, but because I have what you will never be able to have; a father."Ā
Floree was pretty taken back by his sudden movements. āOk, ok. Itās fine justā¦stop moving around too quickly, it wonāt help if you have concussion.ā She put her hands upin surrender.
Floree winced again at the cut. āYāknow showing me isnāt helping yor case here. It looks pretty horrid.ā She screwed her nose at the bloodstained cardigan, almost grimacing. Floree nodded. āFineā¦ā She glanced over at his car, thinking. It looked terrible. Nothing would be able to save that. He might as well send it of to a dump and be done with it. Definately new car worthy. Arthur wasnāt in luck today. āWill your dad understand?ā She motioned over to the car with her hand. āIām just guessing itās either his, or itās yours but youāll be in trouble for it.āĀ
Floree followed him furthur to his car, looking in it. She got out her phone and saw her signal was flicking between fine and nothing. She was considering trying to call the ambulance anyway while the signal was fine, but thought if Arthur thought he could handle the situation, then fine. Heās surely a big boy now and can be in control of his own situations.Ā
She made her way back to the car looking bak to make sure Arthur was following. She looked at the cardigan. āItās fine, you canā¦keep it?ā She smiled. āItās the least I could do.ā As she got to her car she said āNow, it may not be as good as your car or as fancy but at least mine works.ā She reached for the passenger door and opened it. āGet in then. Back to the university.ā She smiled at him and then got in her self, turning the keys. āWait! Shall I call a towing company first? We canāt just leave it there.āĀ
Arthur wasn't sure if it was the shock, or the possible concussion, or just the fact he'dĀ crashedĀ aĀ carĀ that was making him a little frantic - probably a mixture of all three if he was honest. He took a few moments to try and calm himself down, wipe theĀ exasperatedĀ expression from his face because Floree was just trying to help and Arthur could see that if he was thinking rationally. Which he unfortunately was not.Ā
He let out a groaning sound and rubbed at his head again, and thanked whatever god he could think of that Floree was no longerĀ adamantĀ about calling an ambulance. He nodded at her, stepping down into theĀ passengerĀ seat as she turned on the ignition.Ā
"No,Ā no. Well, no I'll call them as soon as we're back at campus." Arthur raised his own set of keys, clicking his car locked. It made a rather pathetic little whining sound in place of the usual locking beep. Arthur felt ridiculous about locking hisĀ crashedĀ car but perhaps it was a force of habit.
Arthur laughed, which hurt his head, but made him feel better anyway. He looked around Floree's own car, or what he assumed was her own car- not exactly what Arthur was used to but he supposed he should be grateful he wasn't stranded by his still-smoking car with no cell phone reception, or infact worse; slumped over the steering wheel dead.Ā
"I'm honestly fine." Arthur said again, more to himself than anything, because if he believed he was fine then he would be. And if he believed that his father would write it off as ArthurĀ just being a student and living his lifeĀ then that's what would happen to. Arthur didn't hold up much hope for the latter part but it didn't hurt to think positive, right?Ā
"I promise as soon as we're back, I'll call a towing company and maybe I'll even go see a doctor. Maybe. I'm perfectly alright though."Ā
To be honest Mordred didnāt know what the hell he was doing here at the supermarket. He didnāt have really any extra money to spend on food but he guess it was something to do. And upon seeing Arthur Pendragon almost crush a five year old out of prat-ish stupidity he was glad he picked walking around a supermarket as his something to do today.Ā
āHey Arthurā Mordred called out walking over to the giant blonde boy sulking by the fresh fruit. Hopefully the boy started smiling soon or he was going to make all the grapes he was unfortunately hovering over go sour. And nobody wanted that.Ā
āSo you lost or something?ā The younger boyĀ added with a grin once he knew heād caught the otherās attention āCuz the fancy pub with all the drinks you like is that way budāĀ
Mordred didnāt exactly know why he was feeling unnaturally smug and sarcastic today, and but maybe thats because, this simple act of Ā getting groceries was part of Mordredās world, Mordredās element and for once in his life he had caught the mighty Arthur Pendragon completely out of place.Ā
Arthur narrowed his eyes suspiciously and with a little more malice than was reallyĀ necessaryĀ becauseĀ of courseĀ Mordred was here. Still, perhaps the kid-Ā no,Ā the guy, the man, the adult,Ā he's not that young Arthur and he'd made it perfectly clear he doesn't take kindly to being belittled.Ā Maybe Mordred would know what on earthĀ Jammy DodgersĀ were (Merlin had circled, exclamation marked and underlined these thrice, but hadn't left any sort of clue as to where to find them in the grocery-labyrinth).
"My sanity." Arthur said very flatly as he nonchalantly tossed a mango/orange/grapefruit/thing in one hand and still clutched the crumpled shopping list in the other.
"Because this place is soul-sucking. It is a labyrinth of misery and despair. I lost my will to live somewhere near the ready-meals and forty five hundred different breakfast cereals." Gee, Arthur, maybe you should join the theatre.Ā
Arthur peered over Mordred's head, which wasn't that much of a feat considering it wasn't all that high from the ground, in the direction of the aisles that all looked completely identical to each other. The continuousĀ beepingĀ of the check-out tills seemed to mock his supermarketĀ inadequacy, it was all a bit too much.
"Help me." Arthur spurted rather suddenly, before realizing who he was talking to. Mordred. As if things weren't already awkward enough between them.
"Help me get this entire list and I will buy you... uh, burritos? Marshmallows. Anything. I'll buy you anything, but notĀ alcohol. OrĀ cigarettes. No." Arthur gave himself a mental pat on the back for being a mature adult and not promising the 17 year oldĀ cigarettes. Well done Arthur. He held the list up in demonstration, a mere 7 items of the total 20-odd were check off. It was ridiculous but Arthur found it mortifyinglyĀ embarrassing. Still, it was Mordred. The kid Arthur had hauled up onto the roof, almost had anĀ existentialĀ crisis with and then come out to all within the same month. Whats a bit of shopping between friends who sort of resent each other but have had some pretty deep and meaningful moments over packets of marshmallows?Ā
Morgana had been nestled in the safety of her room, sketching silly shapes on a piece of antique white paper. Of course, she was currently missing a mandatory tutorial down in the art studio and she had not given her leave of absence. It wasnāt like her art professor would come looking her or anything, and if he did she could easily make him feel sorry for her by pretending to be ill whilst feebly attempting to work on in her room. She had a knack for manipulating people, something sheād learned from a young age and ever since she used this skill to her advantage.
She didnāt feel like leaving her room today, having been to a lecture this morning on historic painters, sheād realised it was one of those days where she just couldnāt be bothered with art, and everything she may do in terms of painting or drawing would be of no use, for herĀ inspirationĀ seemed all but lost. She supposed it had something to do with the rather dull sky, as though the blackness of night still lingered, so much so that all the lights were on in the building, including her own. Rain was sure to follow and for that, she gave a huff.
Not to mention the mere annoyance of most of the campus annoyed her and how on a Friday afternoon the only gossip sheād hear in her classes were what each girl intended to wear that evening and which guy they intended to make a move on whenĀ horrifyinglyĀ drunk. The sheerĀ stupidityĀ of half her classmates made her huff again as she whisked her pencil up the page, having only pulled her drawing materials out, out of guilt.
But, when she heard a demanding bang on her door she dropped her pencil and sighed, perhaps it was her art professor come to tell her off or some reckless first year upset with something sheād done, or even one of the preppy blonde girls annoyed at her lack of school spirit and ignorance to charity emails.
Morgana felt her stomach turn however, just the slightest bit in fear of who it might be and why they seemed so upset and annoyed over something, which she was not in the mood for today. She opened the door a small bit, so that if it was her art professor sheād have to to put on her āsickā face.
But her brows immediately knit into a frown at the sight of her brother, looking absolutely furious. What had she done now?
However she didnāt get the chance to ask, or even greet him (however sour the greeting might be) before he pushed his way past her, and afterwards she just saw red, how dare he! How dare he push into her room as though he very well owned it, as though he had any right.
But her eyes caught sight of the letter he was clutching as she spun around to give him a belting, and thatās when she realised.
At first she didnāt know what to say? What could she say? This had to happen, even if she herself found their relationship had been improving but she convinced herself that was little more than for the sake of Gwaine. She loathed Arthur now, he was stealing herĀ fortuneĀ away and she wasnāt going to very well let him have it.
āWhy?ā She repeated, as though it was idiotic he even ask. āYou ask me why I take legal action over the fact youāre robbing me of my fortune?ā She sighed out in disbelief, closing the door knowing this conversation was going to be a messy one. āWhat did you really expect me to do? Write āwelcomeā on my forehead and let you use me as a doormat?ā She hissed at him with anger, how dare he act like he was being hard done by.
Arthur looked briefly around Morgana's space, shutting the door firmly behind him, before returning his eyes to rest on her, despite the fact he couldn't quite meet her eyes right now. He chewed at his bottom lip, bottom jaw set firmly in place in an attempt to keep himself from screaming at her. It was somewhat futile.
"AĀ doormat?! Me and my father have bent over backwards to please you all these years, treated you as part of the family! And now that you reallyĀ areĀ part of the family you repay us by trying to tear away everything my father has worked for." Arthur's voice was raised well loud enough for the surrounding rooms to hear, apparently he didn't care. He took a few involuntary steps towards her, feeling his voice rising with everyĀ syllableĀ his tone growing more and more frantic.
"And you don't even have the human decency to talk to me face to face, Morgana. We're supposed to beĀ siblingsĀ for crying out loud- no, actually, maybe you are aĀ Le FayĀ after all, a Pendragon would never stoop so low as to do something like this." And Arthur was pleading with himself to calm down, to stop shouting and to walk away - leave this battle for another day because whilst Morgana looked angry, furious even, Arthur couldn't help but see the very faintest glint of fear in her eyes as he filled her space, backing her up against the wall of her room. It wasĀ subconsciousĀ of course, Arthur didn't mean to threaten her, of frighten her if that was what he was doing.
"God, why do you have to be like this? Can you not see you are literally tearing whats left of this god forsaken family apart." At some point Arthur's right hand was raised, the one with the letter stillĀ crumpledĀ up inside. Morgana was pressed against the wall and for a fleeting, frantic second Arthur could have done anything, believed he could have done anything. But his hand came slapping down on the wall beside Morgana's head instead, jarring him somewhat from his fit of rage as he looked at Morgana properly for the first time since his intrusion. The letter fell from his numb hand, still palm down against the wall, and landed on the ground between them.Ā
It was a Friday afternoon, lectures were over, classes were done with, assignments could wait until 11pm Sunday night. There was a cold pint with Arthur's name on it, perhaps he'd even squeeze in a quick walk or job before he hit the bars tonight - Arthur walked briskly through the dorm's common room. Student's were milling about, some slouched on the leather couches, laughing in groups, others seemed to be heading out or about to hit the library.
As Arthur walked past, he decided on a whim to complete his obligatory fort-nightly emptying of his mail box, swinging into the small office that would have been nothing more than a stonewalled store cupboard originally. A desk sat in the middle, piles of paperĀ strewnĀ across an old computer keyboard, an old yellowed lamp illuminating shelves of ring binders and filing cabinets topped with coffee mugs and wilted pot-plants. A large wooden shelf donned the back wall with close to a hundred smaller cubby-holes, only the odd few had actual mail in them.
Arthur smiled at the older lady as she passed him his stack of envelopes. He made his way back to his room flicking through the mail as he walked.Ā Chairty, charity, charity dinner, bank statement, charity,Ā oh. The letter was smaller than the others, professionallyĀ sealed with a law firm's address printed neatly on the back. He stuck the others in his mouth and fingered the envelope open.Ā
Dear Master Pendragon
Our law firm will be representing Miss Morgana Le Fay in her legal claim for her father's inheritance on the ground of unjust trauma caused by her father's actions, and the revelation she is now his eldest heir. No action isĀ requiredĀ on your part, but we are obligated to inform you of Miss Le Fay's intent given you are sole beneficiary at this point in time.Ā
We strongly suggest you use anĀ attorneyĀ in your future contact with Miss. Le Fay. You will be contacted soon in regards to scheduled meetings, hearings and court dates.
Best wishes-
Arthur felt himself involuntarily begin to crush the piece of paper slowly in his fist. He felt sick, light-headed as he pushed the door open to his room, ignored the light switch and felt his way to his desk in the darkness.Ā
How could he have been so stupid? To actually think things were improving ever since that bloody scavenger hunt. And all this time she'd been having secret meetings with herĀ lawyerĀ behind his back. A lawyer paid with his father's money to strip him of all he had worked for. The reality of the letter he was gripping started to sink in. This was real.
Arthur wondered if Uther knew. Of course he did, Morgana had probably sent this last week and Arthur hadn't checked his mail. She didn't even have the nerve to tell him face to face-Ā ohĀ that's right, they weren't supposed to talk face-to-face anymore.Ā We'll see about that.Ā
Arthur was up from his chair again, a flash of anger that he didn't even bother toĀ suppress. Ā He knew he should have a cool head but frankly he didn't care. He was gripping the paper so tight now that his nails dug through into his palm. He took the stairs two at a time, navigating the winding second-year corridors until he found Morgana's row. He could see the light on in her room, it leaked out from under the door. He tried to stop himself but he was way too far gone for any reasoning.Ā
Arthur hit the door five times in quick procession with the first still curled around the letter. He bit his lip, took a step back, shifted his weight with impatience as the door was unlatched. The door swung open slowly, warm light from Morgana's room spilling into the corridor. His sister looked confused, a little dazed at the sudden intrusion and for some reason ArthurĀ couldn'tĀ get any words out, he just stood there, on the darkenedĀ thresholdĀ to his sister's room, the crumpled curling edges of the letter in his right fist that was still raised. Morgana's eyes turned to it, and realized rather quickly why Arthur was there. His foot was in her door before she could even move to shut it, pushing his way into her space.
Domestic tasks werenāt really Arthurās forte. Merlin usually bought food for both of them , on weekly trips to the small supermarket in the village. Apparently, with recent progressions in their relationship, theyād become more equal, and this meant it was Arthurās turn.
Why are there so many different cereals?Ā andĀ goddamn it woman move your bloody trolley!Ā were just some of Arthurās internal struggles as he navigated the place, crumpled shopping list with Merlinās scrawling handwriting in hand.Ā
He was only a third of the way through the list when things started to go wrong. First, two boxes of frosted cornflakes (the only kind of cereal Arthur would eat) fell from the shelf, scattering onto the floor. Secondly he had to backtrack through the winding aisles when he realized heād picked up the wrong milk (why on earth did Merlin only drink soy?) - and then finally, and to be fair this wasnāt even his fault really, he barged into a small child while making a bee-line for the baked goods section with his trolley. The kid wasnāt hurt or anything but apparently that wasnāt a good enough apology to his mother. And being Arthur Pendragon didnāt get him off the hook for bowling over a 5 year-old.
He was all but ready to pack it all in, to return to his room, lie in his bed and sulk at the fact supermarkets were just universally confusing, when someone behind him called his name.Ā
I thought it was high-time I posted this. This is a compilation of the entire plot between Merlin and Arthur that I played with Jamie. It is the singularly most amazing merthur storyline I have ever played and I enjoyed every moment of it. You can read the entire thing here, from our first para to the first date (excluding messages and texts). Obviously half of the credit goes to Jamie, our previous Merlin. Bolded text is Merlin's.Ā
~Chapter 1: the incident with the leaning tower of clothing~
It wasnāt that big of a deal. Not really, but given everything else thatād been going on I guess you could sympathize with Arthur, possibly.
For about 2 weeks now, clothes that Merlin had washed and ironed had been accumulating in quite an impressive tower on top of Arthurās drawers. Merlin, too busy and lazy (in Arthurās mind) to fold them and put them away in the corresponding drawers, had seen to fit to construct something enviable by the eiffel tower in the corner of Arthurās room, who, like any young adult with little experience in domestic tasks such as putting away clothes, had seen fit to leave it there until such a time when he ran out of other clothes to wear.
Like today.
Reaching for the hoodie right in the middle of the tower of clothing wasnāt perhaps the best choice but it was his favorite and he wasnāt in the mood to painstakingly deconstruct The Burj Al Arthurās-clothes. And so with a tug at the drawstring the hoodie broke free, toppling the uppersection of t-shirts and jeans and jackets into a messy, crumpled heap that covered one third of the floor.
āMERLIN!ā
Merlin had been leaving a tutorial when Arthur had tracked him down.
āBefore you ask, the reason Iām not fully dressed is because someone didnāt bother to put any of my clothes away. Are you incapable of even the most basic human tasks, Merlin?ā Heād half-shouted amidst curious onlookers.
The journey back to Arthurās room was a bit lopsided because Arthur proceeded to drag Merlin there by pinching one of his ears and pulling, hard. Theyāre big enough for it anyway.
Once back, Arthur stood, arms crossed, donned only in pajama bottoms and a night shirt (even though it was close to 11am), looking at Merlin with something akin to an angry, lopsided pout and he was determined to hold the expression until the idiot picked all of his clothes up and folded them neatly into the drawers, color coordinated and spaced evenly, of course.
Ok, it wasnāt his fault. Ok, no, it was, but not really.
Merlin decided weeks ago that juggling cleaning Arthurās underpants (for the record, heās a tighty whities kind of guy, and that made Merlin laugh way more than could be deemed appropriate), shining his shoes, not washing his clothes in the wrong cycle so they shrunk (even though he did that intentionally sometimes, because Merlin liked Arthurās face when he called him fat), and not failing out of University was too much effort. Which meant heād shrink on some of his duties. A bit.
Heād prioritized them. His classes coming first - with magic in a firm lead over chemistry, but shh. Then making friends, because he needed more of those. Then after about a dozen of other things Merlin added just because it amused him, he added ātake care of Arthurā to the bottom. In very sloppy mental handwriting for extra spite.
So to anyone that followed the lists Merlin made in his head, itād be obvious why Arthur had an architectural phenomenon residing in his dorm room.
He left his latest tutorial with an arm full of books and a good mood.
Which quickly turned sour when the obnoxious bellow of his lord prattiness flew into his ears. Which, speaking of, were suddenly being assaulted by said pratās hand. For the record, he wasnāt going to mention that Arthur looked like a baby had dressed him, because Merlin was fully aware that Arthur lacked the brain cells to accomplish the task on his own.
But when Arthur folded his arms in the irritating āI own youā way, Merlinās mouth started moving all on its own. Again. He folded his arms right back.
āCareful with that glower, I think youāre getting frown lines.ā
āFrown li-ā Arthur threw up his hands in more dramatized frustration than was needed. He reached around Merlin to slam the door before proceeding to flatten himself onto his bed with a muffled āEurr!ā It squeaked disapprovingly and reminded Arthur, again, to talk to his father about organizing a new bed.
āDo you even know the week Iāve had, Merlin? If I do get frown lines Iāll be sending the botox bill to you personally. ā He said around a mouthful of pillows and blankets. He was vaguely aware that Merlin was probably still standing there with his arms crossed wondering when Arthur had developed the tendency to have mental breakdowns over spilling his clothes across the floor. Arthur was too far gone to retrieve and dignity so he slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position and straightened his shirt that had ridden halfway up his stomach.
āFine. Okay, look, at least help me fold them up, I have aā¦ lectureā¦ thing in half an hour, I canāt be late, again.ā Arthur stooped from the bed to snatch the closest item of clothing, a blue sweatshirt that probably cost more than Merlinās entire outfit combined, and the rest. He considered throwing it at Merlinās head, but thatād get them no whereā¦ not that it wouldnāt be enjoyable. Not knowing quite what to do with it he folded it awkwardly and it ended up in a vaguely triangular shape. When did I hit this low? He waited for another snarky comment from Merlinās direction.
Arthurās miniature tantrum was as much irritating to Merlin as it was satisfactory. One the one hand, seeing Arthur take his jibe to heart and flop onto the bed was exactly the reaction he was hoping for. On the other hand, it only served to solidify Merlinās opinion of Arthur: that he really was just a scared little boy trying to please his daddy. With a really impressive jawline, but that really didnāt need to be vocalized. Ever.
āItās funny you should ask, seeing as you very rarely shut up about āthe week youāve hadā. Every bloody week,ā He ground out, idly aware that Arthur had long stopped paying attention to him. āYou need to learn to be a bit more optimistic. And less of a clotpole, while weāre at it.ā
ā¦and if he noticed the sliver of abs Arthur had just not-so-intentionally exposed, well, he wasnāt going to mention it. Or think about it. Or want another look.
āYouāre lying skills are improving, sire, I nearly believed you.ā But, Merlin wasnāt heartless - really, he had too much of a conscience. So one look at Arthurās pleading eyes and the mess on the floor (the one that had not been entirely his fault) and Merlin was crouching on the ground with a sharp eye roll. He glanced down at Arthurās mediocre folding job. āI canāt say the same for your folding skills.ā
After properly folding the sweatshirt and putting it right back on the recently destroyed tower, he looked back to Arthur. Instead of his chin being proudly up in the air, it seemed to rest on his chest now. He furrowed his brows and picked up a white t-shirt that was tinted pink from a poor washing job. It was worrying, to be honest. He didnāt know Arthur that well, but he did know that this somber cloud hanging above his head didnāt belong.
āI donāt think your inadequacy to fold will be your downfallā¦ā
Perfect, Merlin! You are the master at comfort.
āYou know a lot of people would be glad to do your job, Merlin. Considering itās the only thing keeping you in this university.ā Arthur sighed, picking up a t-shirt off the ground and trying not to look too put out, even though he felt it. A pitiful Merlin would probably be worse than a sarcastic one, or a cheerful one, or a drunk one (that Arthur had seen only once but had made a mental note never to go drinking with Merlinā¦ not that he would anyway. Ever.)
He was in such a bad mood he didnāt even make a remark about Merlinās apparent ploy to turn everything he owned a light shade of pink. There was probably a gay joke there somewhere, but Arthur wasnāt going to make it, partly because he hadnāt the energy and partly because he didnāt actually know of Merlināsā¦ preference and he didnāt want to offend him, well not really. He did want to make him pick up all these clothes though.
Arthur managed to not retaliate to Merlinās remarks by keeping a tightened jaw and concentrating on moulding the t-shirt into a relatively squarish shape. He did, however end up throwing something at Merlinās head at the last comment. It was a pair of rolled up socks and it hit Merlin square on the forehead. Arthur felt a bit childish afterwards, but seeing Merlinās scandalized and exaggerated hurt expression afterwards more than made up for it.
āOh it was a park of socks, Merlin! Donāt tell me youāre that much of a girl.ā It was perhaps a little worrying how throwing objects at Merlin brightened Arthurās day but he did feel a little better, especially as Merlin seemed to be helping him genuinely now, rather than out of spite.
āOh, Iām happy to be here, donāt get me wrong. How could I not love having the smell of your socks permanently implanted in my brain?ā Merlin said offhandedly while folding a pair of jeans, and being possibly too meticulous about making the seams match up. Which, of course, wasnāt a way of proving he was better than Arthur, who was currently manhandling a t-shirt. Because as we all know, folding isnāt a competition.
But Merlin was totally winning.
The tally he was keeping in his head was also purely scientific. (For the record, the count of successfully folded clothing was at Merlin: 4, Arthur: -3.) He got himself into a bit of a groove and was folding the shirts absentmindedly, lost in his own thoughts. He was mentally writing the introduction to his essay on Osmosis when he was forcibly ejected from his stupor by a ball of socks ricocheting off his head.
He sat stunned for a moment; contemplating the audacity of it all. He looked down at the clothes, considered throwing something back at Arthur, decided heād like to remain in Uni, then considered turning Arthur into an actual cabbagehead, but found that rewarding him with similar expulsion.
So instead he carefully raised his hand to his forehead, eyes still wide and scandalized. He fingered the area for a moment, prodding the skin like he had forgotten it was there.
āOh it was a park of socks, Merlin! Donāt tell me youāre that much of a girl.ā
Merlin glared in response.
āThat,ā He said slowly with a childish huff, āwas uncalled for.ā
My socks donāt even smell, Arthur thought with distaste although he hazarded a experimental sniff. If they did, it was still Merlinās fault since he washed them .
āUncalled for but completely necessary, it brightened my day entirely.ā He said with satisfaction as he closed the bottom drawer and moved onto the next. Merlin was grumbling about something and Arthur picked up another pair of jeans. Gee Arthur you sure do have a lot of jeans. They were an expensive pair but Arthur hardly ever wore them because they pinched a bit around the waste and made his thighs look weird. I bet theyād look great on Merlin thoug- Arthur you did not just think that! He had though. Maybe they would. Does Merlin have a good arse? Oh fuck now Iām thinking about Merlinās arse. Great. Arthur decided, on a purely observational and scientific basis that Merlin indeed did have a good arse, albeit a bit bony.
Okay this scenario was kind of weird. Arthur and Merlin sitting cross legged on the floor folding clothing. Maybe it wasnāt so weird for Merlin, he was probably used to it. But for Arthur it was entirely strange and a little uncomfortable as well.
āDonāt be getting any ideas Merlin, I will not be helping you fold your clothes. Ever. Period. Not that I ever see you wearing anything that different do you even have spare clothes?ā Arthur joked but it was half true.
It was then that things got slightly awkward because as Arthur was unfolding and refolding yet another pair of designer jeans, an (unused, thank god) condom decided to fall out of the left pocket and land in the space between Merlin and Arthur. Undeniable and noticed by both of them.
āI- donāt know how thatā¦ uh. Okay.ā I mean it was ridiculous for Arthur to get too embarrassed about it they were both grown adults but all the same he snatched it up quickly, cheeks reddening like heād been caught with his pants down or something. God Arthur what are you doing?
Merlin watched Arthur, oh so sneakily, steal a whiff of his socks. āI wouldnātāā Arthur did anyway, because Merlin could never know what he was talking about, and if the little grimace was anything to go by, he was right. He was going to say he hadnāt had time to wash Arthurās socks yet, but this was a much better way of Arthur finding out. Also it was humor at Arthurās expense; with Merlin liked.
Merlin huffed indignantly, deciding heād never wash Arthurās socks again. With one last rub to his violated forehead, he turned back to his work. Arthurās wardrobe primarily consisted of tight t-shirts (normal t-shirts, they fit perfectly loose around Arthurās biceps. Which are small. Not chiseled), expensive jeans, dirty socks, and the occasional sweater or hoodie. He also had about five hundred suits that all look the same, but they were being professionally cleaned. (Merlin wouldnāt even trust himself with that job, considering what happened the last time.)
He glanced up at Arthur when he began to talk. Then glared. āI really donāt think I asked you to fold my clothes,ā He motioned down toward the lumps of fabric Arthur was calling āfoldedā, āand I donāt think youād be much help anyway.ā
He ignored Arthurās jibe. The other man didnāt need to know he had exactly three pairs of jeans - two of which were Willās - and six t-shirts which were two sizes too-big. He covered them all with his red sweatshirt and a scarf, hiding the awkward fit.
He looked back at the clothes, somehow just realizing how many Arthur had. Enough to build a tower.
Maybe heād steal a pair of Arthurās jeans next time.
Speaking of jeans, Arthur was having a losing battle with a pair, and as Merlin stuck out his hand to grab a (was that cashmere?) sweater to fold, a condom fell beside his fingers. He drew his hand away like he was electrocuted. He kept his expression void and his voice level. He hadnāt noticed that when he washed those jeans.
Merlin had been curious about the girls Arthur was so famous for shagging. Not overwhelmingly curious or anything, just idle thoughts that every one has. Right? Right. He just thought about Arthur in bed. That was perfectly normal.
Also, a ālargeā?, someone was being overconfident.
ā¦or was he.
OK, stop right there, Merlin.
āI saw nothing. We never speak of this again.ā
āAgreed.ā Arthur said, a bit too quickly. He did not add, and incase you were wondering, yes itās a large. And it fits snuggly. Because thatād be weird. He did notice Merlinās slightly curious glance, probably wondering who it was Arthur had intended the condom to be used with. Arthur wasnāt going to indulge in this information because it had been an entirely disappointing night almost 2 months ago during the summer that had not ended in the utilization of said condom (obviously), and had actually been the last time heād found the possible need for contraception, which was a little sad. The majority of the student body at Camelot seemed to be under the impression that Arthur was something of a player. He knew he was good looking and athletic and rich and had numerous girls practically throwing themselves at him most days but the truth of the matter was Arthur was not at all like Gwaine or other guys like him. He didnāt have sex every night just because he could, nor did he particularly want to. Sure, he did want to change the fact that it had been more than two months since heād last gotten laid but one night stands simply werenāt his thing. He wanted to meet someone, someone nice who liked him for him and not for his reputation, maybe date a bit, and if sex was a side effect then thatād be great too.
Arthur came to the realization that he was having this train of thought in the presence of Merlin. Not only that but Merlin was less than two feet away from him and had just finished blushing over the condom-incident. He cleared his throat and tried to fill the empty void of awkward non-conversation and donāt-make-eye-contact-or-he-might-ask-about-the-condom.
āSo, Merlin, how are, how is university going for you?āOkay that might have been the worst possible way to try and change that subject because Arthur never asked about Merlinās life. Itās not that he wasnāt interested, he was, but that wasnāt what their relationship was about, it was about Merlin attending University by helping Arthur. Thatās all. They could probably manage a casual friendship but nothing on top of that, Merlin came from a different world to Arthur.
āI mean, you know, apart from being a completely useless human being and what not which I already knowā¦ā Arthur tried to redeem himself. This morning was turning into a long string of situations that got Arthur thorougly flustered and confused at the expense of Merlin. What is wrong with this guy? Although a more appropriate thought may have been what is wrong with me?
Eager to get moving on, Arthur finished the last items of clothing while Merlin replied, scrunching them into the top drawer and closing it with finality. He slumped back down with a sigh and then did the worst thing he could possibly do to redeem that past 15 minutes of awkwardness. Without thinking Arthur reached to brush a stray piece of lint from Merlinās folded legs. It probably would have been alright, a non awkward or at least redeemable action had the lint not been on the inside of Merlinās upper thigh and Arthur brushed his fingers acros with such tenderness in a moment of confused dazedness and oh god everything was awful.
That, Arthur thought, after returning his hand to his side with a wide eyed expression of panic, was one of the weirdest most awkward things youāve ever done, Arthur Pendragon.
Merlin refrained from snapping his fingers in Arthurās face to get his attention, instead settling on watching his vacant expression with peaked interest. He had no idea what the prat could possibly be thinking about, but apparently it was requiring quite a bit of effort. Which, once the other man snapped back into him self, Merlin was going to point out. He could almost see the cogs working, or trying to, and the part of him that was desperate to know what was being contemplated was beat out by the part that was thoroughly amused.
Belatedly, he realized that he was no better, staring at Arthur like that. True, Arthur had made this exceptionally awkward by not talking for longer than appropriate, but at least he was lost in thought. Merlin was just watching him think. Which was weird. And creepy. And damn it, now Merlin was lost in thought thinking about watching Arthur think. Or thought. Or so he thinks.
And now we was confused.
Just as he was about to snap Arthur out of it and pretend he hadnāt been staring, Arthurās stupor was broken when he cleared his throat. Arthur averted his eyes, which Merlin was incredibly thankful for, considering his own were still aimed pointedly at Arthurās face. He quickly looked down. He realized with a blush that he had managed to move his eyes to the exact spot the condom had been and, possibly too fervently, moved his eyes to the ceiling.
āSo, Merlin, how are, how is university going for you?ā
āWhat?ā Merlin asked dumbly; the last thing he expected was a civilized question from Arthur.
āI mean, you know, apart from being a completely useless human being and what not which I already know.ā
Slowly, he moved his gaze back to Arthur. āThatās about it, actually. I just wander about lost and confused without your helpful guidance,ā He quipped back. āI donātāā And something was on his leg. Naturally, Merlin thought it was a bug or rat or something - gods knew Arthurās socks smelled enough to attract such things - so he jumped, startled. It wasnāt he looked down to swipe at the offending, well, offense when he realized it was bloody Arthur Pendragonās hand. And if the spot Arthur touched burned pleasantly as he pulled away, then it was purely coincidental and had nothing to do with who was doing the touching.
āA simple āMerlin, thereās lint on your pantsā, would have worked just as well.ā
Arthur was panicking a bit and felt the walls of his room closing in slowly around him. Calm yourself you idiot. He saw Merlin startle and as soon as his hand was away he stood up, hiding his movement by loading up the top drawer with a hastily grabbed fistful of clothing items.
āI-uh, yeah well you didnāt have to jump like a bloody great girl Merlin.ā Arthur was wondering what on earth was possessing him to do stupid things like that but all he knew was this āclothes foldingā session was turning into a disaster, the whole morning was a disaster infact.
This was Merlin. Merlin for christs sake. Clumsy, idiotic, pain-in-the-ass Merlin. Why was Arthur being so awkward around him?
āWell, I think weāre done here.ā Arthur gestured towards the drawers, the top of which heād shoved shut and the tops of 3 pairs of socks were sticking out haphazardly from. He straightened his stance and looked at Merlin who was still sitting cross-legged on the floor, probably wondering what the hell had come over Arthur, who in turn didnāt actually know. He reasoned with himself heād just had a difficult day, a difficult week infact. More like a difficult life. No stop that donāt go all emo.
āUh, thank you. I guess, and sorry if, you know, when I pinched your ear outside the lecture theatre to get you to come hereā¦ā That had been a bit uncalled for. But it was entertaining. Arthur tried not to over analyze and think about how his fingers had closed around the shell of Merlinās ear in the corridor or had been gliding across Merlinās thigh just a minute before, because thatās not the sort of thing he should be thinking about and really he just needed Merlin out of here.
āOh and donāt forget, I need you to return these books, and uh- no actually thats it.ā Arthur patted a lofty pile of books that were piled onto his night stand, A selected works by Rutilius Claudius Namatianuson the top. āAnd if anyone asks, say theyāre yours.ā
~Chapter two: Mordred & the roof~
āYou went up on the roof, didnāt you?ā
āThere may have beenā¦ some roof related activity. I canāt quite remember.
Merlin do you know any hangover cures? ā
āWhat part of āgoing on the roof while pissed drunk is a stupid ideaā didnāt you understand?
I could bang a few pots together?ā
āYes Merlin banging pots together is the best thing you could possibly do for someone with a hangover. I donāt know canāt you do something, like, with plants or egg yolks, arenāt you into all that stuff?
The thing is merlin when youāre pissed drunk you donāt quite grasp the concept of danger. Anyway, Iām fine. Weāre fine. Quit acting like my mother. ā
āYou wonāt know for sure until we try it. Alcohol doesnāt really cause the hangover, itās chemicals the alcohol metabolizes into, like acetaldehyde. Water is your best bet. Though, Iām still going with my first suggestion.
Fine, Arthur. ā
āMer-lin youāre making it worse with that-that scienceā¦ stuff. Stop.
Fine. Get me some water will you? Oh and Merlin, I need your phone. Right now. I think there are some texts I need to delete. ā
āSorry, I forgot intelligence made you ill. Iāll get your water, but thereās no use giving up some good blackmail material. What do you take me for? A fool?
Donāt answer that.ā
āThat was almost a good insult, Merlin. How long have you been working on that one for?
And donāt think I wont wrestle your phone out of your hands. Justā¦ give me a hint, how bad are the texts? ā
āDepends, how many times have you used that comeback now? I think weāre up to four. Oh, theyāre fantastic.ā
āI still donāt think youāre quite up to speed on the fact I could very easily have you expelled from this university. If you ever put those texts anywhere or show them anyone, Merlin Emrys, I willā¦ I will take your phone and delete the texts and then shove it where the sun does not shine am I clear?
Oh god I didnāt, like, propose to you or anything, did I?ā
~Chapter 3: Exam Season~
āArthur, I have four more exams until the end of term. For your oh-so codependent mind, Iāve pre-made you dinner for the next few days. Just heat it up.
Donāt light yourself on fire.ā
āThats awfully considerate and uncharactersitaclly forward thinking of you, Merlin. Well done. Although Iām not sure I like the idea of just heat it up. Your food tastes mediocre at best anyway so zapping it in the microwave surely wont improve anything.
Uh, nonetheless, thanks.ā
āConsidering Morgause called me in full blown rant mode and told me all about your little escapade in the kitchen, and that I need to ābabysit my arrogant toadstool betterā, I decided to save you from more oven-induced embarrassment. I guess I forgot how well you take care of yourself.
Donāt mention it.ā
āWhy were you talking to Morgause, of all people? And yes that sounds like something she would say but Iāll have you know everything was going fine until she bloody turned up.
Anyway, Merlin, are you going to the Ball? I think you should take Freya, oh yes thatsā another thing, I know Freya now, so basically I know all your darkest secrets and theyāre most amusing. Anyway, she helped me with my speech since you disappeared on study hibernation, thanks. ā
āJust because you think Iām a lazy idiot doesnāt mean everyone else does.
Weāre still friends and all.. I-yeah, the reason we broke up really had nothing to do with her. Yeah, yeah, Iāll comeā-Do you have a date?ā
āWell, you just donāt seem like Morgauseās type I guess.
It never actually occurred to me that you two, uh, dated. I guess I always thought you were- nevermind.
Good! Good, you can join me and Mithian, I ended up asking her. Sheās great and we go way back, and my father would approve. I didnāt want to take anyone, but my father threatened to hire a hooker, and the only one left on my list with half a brain cell was you. And yes Merlin that was a compliment, go on and savour it.ā
āā¦Thought I was what? Too unappealing?
Seemed a little backhanded to me. If Iām going to savor a compliment from you, Iād like it to be genuine. Wait. Join you and Mithian? I wonāt be intruding or anything?ā
āNo, not unappealing, I mean yes but I thought you werenātā¦ you knowā¦ into girls. But thatās none of my business, none at all.
Hm, well stay tuned, donāt expect too much from me I am only human, Merlin. And yes join me and Mithian, of course you wonāt be intruding me and here are just friends - she herself said sheād like to meet you. I think she might feel sorry for you after I told her you work for me so youāll have to put her right and explain how much of a pleasure it is.ā
āOh! Well Iām not. ā¦Into girls, I mean.
OK, good. Youāre insulting me, you think working for you isnāt complete agony, you still smell like a department store, and all is right with the world. Iād like to go, as long as youāre sure Mithian wouldnāt mind. I donāt really care if you mind.ā
āRight. No I didnāt think- anyway, Iām sorry you and Freya didnāt work but, well, obviously you know why it didnāt work now.
Merlin what does a department store even smell of? Just because youāre uncultured senses canāt pick up the finest of aftershaves when they smell it. And yes, itās settled youāre coming, I donāt mind and Mithian does not mind either. Like I said, weāre all just going as friends.
Oh, but you need a suit, you do have a suit right? A dinner suit or a tux will do nicely, although Iām not sure how theyād ever make one to fit yourā¦ gangly frame. And can you dance? Actually donāt answer that, of course you canāt. ā
~Chapter 4: Wonderful Christmas Time~
Arthur reckoned he could tell what time it was by how melted the ice sculptures were. Well, this plan worked quite well until some idiots came in and replaced all the melted ones with brand new ones. Still, Arthur did know that heād had an argument with Morgana, danced with Mithian, talked to Freya, talked to his father, had an argument with his father, and had a little too much champagne.
He needed a break. So he sought refuge in the outer layers of tables near the back of the hall. That was where he found Merlin.
āMerlin, good!ā Arthur reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder - he wasnāt sure when physical contact had become okay but ever since the mortifying condom-forward-slash-touching-of-upper-thigh incident, Arthur had wanted to make it seem like physical contact was a normal and completely non awkward thing. Aka there had been more of it since then, on Arthurās part that is. He leant a little on Merlin, not quite consensually, the alcohol did a bit of the work.
āIāve hardly got to talk to you the entire night, apart from, you know, texting youā¦ I mean not that, not that I want to talk to you anyway, you are useless at conversation but, youāre here. Hi. Have you enjoyed it so far?ā
When Arthur had ambushed him, Merlin had been heading back into the crowd of people, mingling, dancing, and generally being festive and getting a bit too drunk for such a formal occasion. Arthur did not want to head back into that, so he pulled out a spare seat, and one for Merlin. He sat on it backwards, resting his chin on the back and rubbing his head like that might get the drunkenness away.
āYou lookā¦ good. I didnāt know.. in a suit. You look nice I mean.ā Wow, I think you should stop right there, buddy.
Merlin never had champagne before. He had always associated the drink with princes, or the wanna-be-wealthy, so he rarely indulged in it. Not to mention he certainly couldnāt afford it, and he hadnāt exactly been presented the occasion to be offered it before. Heād never been to a party like this, - unless he was a waiter at it -, and even had to ask Gaius where he could get a cheap suit. (The one he was wearing currently having been rented. As long as he doesnāt spill anything on it, itāll be a success.)
That being said, Merlin popped his champagne cherry with vigor after hearing Arthurās speech. He still decided only snobby-richy-chin-up-in-the-air types would drink it, but man, it was good. And so what if he liked feeling a little classy while he held the glass?
Heād been dancing - more like flailing - when heād scurried to the roomās outskirts. While fun, the crowds could be a little overwhelming and Merlin wanted to find some solitude. So, of course, as if on cue, Arthur had to come over to invade his personal bubble. He sighed, over dramatizing it, and downed the rest of his drink.
āIāve hardly got to talk to you the entire night, apart from, you know, texting youā¦ I mean not that, not that I want to talk to you anyway, you are useless at conversation but, youāre here. Hi. Have you enjoyed it so far?ā
āRight, you clearly donāt want to talk to me. Thatās why you texted me asking where I was andyou came over here. Hi. Actually, yeah,ā He motioned his head toward the Pendragon table. āHaving fun with Mithian?ā
And if he spat her name out a little bitterly, then it wasnāt personal and could be entirely blamed on the champagne. He took the seat as Arthur offered it. When Arthur complimented him, the tops of his ears flushed red and he started to laugh (too much laughing. He didnāt say anything funny. Stop laughing. Oh gods). āYou lookā¦clean.ā
Pat yourself on the back for that one, Merlin.
āYes sheās great actually but, the crowds, you know.ā Arthur gestured vaguely towards the other side of the room with a slightly dazed look on his face.
āAre you saying I donāt look clean at any other time? Honestly Merlin you are useless at compliments.ā Arthur leant forward to swat Merlin on the side of the head with the back of his hand, ruffling up his hair in the process, not that it was by any means smooth before heād done that though. Merlin did look rather dapper in a suit, despite the ridiculous bow tie. Who knew heād scrub up this well?
āI think Morgana is on a mission to ruin Christmas for me. Sheās likeā¦ that green thing whatās it called? The one who stole Christmasā¦ um.ā Arthur said, more to himself than anything, as he decided to wrestle off his dinner jacket, slinging it over the back of a chair, and rolling up his sleeves to the elbow.
āThe grinch! Yes. Thatās Morgana, completely. All bitter and resentful and speaking in rhymes she could probably do that tooā¦ā Arthur trailed off, realizing Merlin probably had better things to do than listen to his slightly drunk ramblings about his family problems. Although despite all his bickering, and uselessness and his occasionally witty comebacks, Merlin had a genuineness about him that made Arthur feel like he could trust him, like Merlin wanted to be trusted. And truly, Arthur didnāt know what quite had come over him because Merlin was just another student, another student from a different world to Arthur who had just happened been assigned to work for him, in the old days heād probably be nothing more than a servant or something, a bad servant at that. But still Arthur realized with sudden clarity that heād been thinking about Merlin for much of the evening. Through his argument with Morgana heād been wondering whoās side Merlin would be on and what heād do in Arthur situation, and whilst texting him from the table heād wondered what jokes they could be making about the old men wearing stiff suits whoād drunken too much sherry. And whilst heād been dancing with Mithian he wondered what itād be like to put his hands on Merlinās-
āDance with me.ā Arthur said, quite suddenly, his eyes snapping back to Merlin, and something akin to a smirk on his face. āCome on, for fun. Itās Christmas after all.ā
āThat only makes me more tempted to scuff them, you know,ā Merlin retorted as Arthur hauled him away.
His movements were leagues ahead of his thoughts and before he could think āOh, maybe I shouldnāt do thisā he was in the middle of the dance floor wearing Arthur Pendragon handcuffs. It was all rather ludicrous, and damn, if Merlin hadnāt been introduced to champagne he probably would have talked his way out of this. But as it was, he was letting Arthur drag him along and was only vaguely away that his oh-so-witty protests consisted of only, āStop!ā, āThis is a bad idea, Arthur,ā and his personal favorite, āI doth protest!ā
If, again, he didnāt have champagne sloshing in his stomach as they danced, Merlin would have been worried by how much he was enjoying their sudden insanity. Heād been planning on staying in his dorm. Possibly watching Star Wars for the umpteenth time, practicing his magic, and eating a lot of peanut butter and oreos. However, as soon as Arthur asked if Merlin would like to join him at the ball, Merlin, under the influence of god knows what, had ditched his hermit crab plans to be with Arthur.
Which had to be some sort of mix up in the force because why would Merlin want to be at the Christmas ball with Arthur Pendragon of all people?
And, to make matters worse, he wasnāt just with Arthur; they were dancing.
He was vaguely aware, while they danced to the beat of a Christmas song Merlin secretly loved, that Arthur was still holding his wrist; and Merlin didnāt even try to pull away. He tried to focus on Arthur and only Arthur, hoping if he concentrated hard enough then all his would be OK and the entire bloody room wouldnāt be watching him with a mix of surprise, annoyance, and jealousy. It worked for awhile, but Merlin could still feel the stares in his back and, absently, looking for reassurance and comfort, he brought a hand to rest on Arthurās shoulder.
Whilst Merlinās touch on Arthurās shoulder was gentle, it seemed to wake Arthur up from a sort of Merlin-induced trance. He didnāt startle or anything, but he looked up, he looked up and locked his eyes with Merlinās, and the situation seemed to suddenly come into clarity, all the jumbled pieces of wild insanity and adrenaline of the past 10 minutes came into place. He was dancing with Merlin. Not just that, in a room full of curious onlookers, and his father.
Arthur breathed out unsteadily, wondering if Merlin was enjoying this as much as he was, because truly he was enjoying it, or had been until his enlightenment in regards to how this can not be happening. Merlin was right there. Less than a foot away from Arthur. He had his hand resting on Arthurs shoulder, Arthurās hand was still woven tightly around Merlinās wrist, swinging together by Merlinās hip. He had never been this close to Merlin before, never noticed the way his blue eyes caught the light, the specks of stubble on his cheeks, or the curve of his lips. If Arthur had so wished he could have loosened his grip, snaking his fingers in-between Merlinās to get a better hold. He could have brought his other hand up to wrap around Merlinās waste and pull him closer. He could have even leant forward, angling up a little to press his lips into-
No. Arthur stepped back, letting Merlinās hand drop from his shoulder but keeping his grip on Merlinās wrist. He felt the other manās pulse quicken as Arthurās did too at the thought of what Merlinās lips might have felt like under his own. No, this is not right. Arthur wasnāt sure what he was doing, what had come over him. They were still standing there, Merlinās eyes still blown wide but now they were more curious, and a little frightened. Arthur breathed in trying to regain his composure.
āI should- should probably goā¦ back to, uh, Mithian.ā Arthur managed, feeling his cheeks burn and his pulse continuing to quicken. He was about to turn away from Merlin when he added; āthis was fun thoughā and did a little shrug. He finally let go of Merlinās wrist, and his hand felt suddenly empty without the warm heat of Merlin between his fingers.
Arthur left the dance floor, heading for the restroom to try and ācool offā, he looked back only to see Merlin standing there looking a little dumbfounded, and if didnāt know better, a little bit sad too.
~Chapter 5: The time of our lives~
The screen that had been mounted on the balcony of the great hall informed Arthur, and probably the international space station as well if the brightness was anything to go by, that it was just under thirty minutes until midnight. The gigantic red digits counted down each second, which Arthur found completely stupid because nothing changed at midnight. You werenāt reborn with the new year, there was no sudden moment of enlightenment or of spiritual awakening. The only thing that happened was fireworks were set off, students jumped in the fountain and some awful rendition of Auld Lang Syn was played while everyone joined hands in-between vomiting and making out with one another, occasionally both of those things at the same time.
Nonetheless, Arthur found himself enjoying the evening. The university was truly alive and electric. Whilst he didnāt care for the band, the blasting music and heavy base coupled with the red and blue lights that swung around the courtyard, and the lasers that threatened to induce epileptic seizures made for an amazing spectacle. Arthur grinned as he made his way through the crowd, he wasnāt even too drunk which was a miracle since the booze was free and several people had already been carted off in ambulances. Arthur had just parted from a group when he spied Merlin sitting on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Arthur thought this a dangerous move, but perhaps Merlin didnāt know of the midnight ritual.
Arthur hadnāt talked to Merlin since the Christmas ball. It wasnāt that he didnāt want to, more he hadnāt found the time. Heād left the university to spend Christmas at home, and he didnāt know how to put any of what he was feeling into a text message or email. He didnāt even know what he was feeling, other than that heād practically been euphoric when dancing with Merlin, and things might have even progressed if the room wasnāt filled with people. He didnāt know what to think, and he was scared too, scared of what he might say or do, scared of the how quickly being around Merlin had started to feel so natural and so right, how touching him seemed like an okay thing to do suddenly.
Arthur made his way over to Merlin, sitting down beside him on the icy edge of the fountain.
āYou probably wonāt want to sit here come midnight.ā He explained as he sat down, shifting a little as the cold concrete sort of penetrated through his jeans.
āYouāre in a prime spot for being pushed in, that is if I donāt do it myself.ā Arthur smiled, turning to Merlin just as a sweeping spotlight bounced off the fountain, reflecting blue wavey light onto Merlinās face. Arthur practically had to supress a gasp. Or a groan. No, not a groan. Definitely not a groan, even though the surreal light cast intense shadows under his cheekbones and made his eyes sparkle and oh god.
āI didnāt know if you were coming tonight. You know, after I sort of ditched you at the ball. Sorry about that I justā¦ā Arthur trailed off, he hoped Merlin understood, although he never knew quite what Merlin was thinking at the best of times.
11:15.
While people danced - or more fitting, cuddled standing up. Merlin still didnāt understand how the students here managed to tangle their limbs in each other and not fall over. Contortionists or something - around him, Merlin perched himself a top the edge of the fountain. Heād been sitting there for the better part of two hours, even though he knew the party wouldnāt be in full swing until closer to 11. Heād relished in the solitude while it lasted, making shapes and animals out of the water with his magic and watching them splash around. There had been a few students clustered around, meandering in and out while Merlin watched. No one noticed his aquatic zoo, at least.
To say they didnāt notice him would be another story. Apparently, dancing with Arthur Pendragon meant one of two things. 1) The female half of the student body hates you, and 2) The male half will laugh at you, because, apparently, Arthur was just trying to humiliate him. All this would probably have bruised his ego if Merlin either cared, or if he hadnāt noticed the entranced look in Arthurās eye that told him their āMomentā (yes, it needed to be capitlized. Sh. Heās not a love-sick high school girl. He didnāt even particularly care. It was just Arthur, after all. Arthur the Great Clotpole of Camelot) was anything but deception.
The only thing that had wounded Merlinās confidence had been Arthurās hasty retreat from the ball.
11:24.
Itās not that Merlin noticed Arthur was avoiding him, itās just that the cabbage-head had left a bloody note to tell Merlin he was going home for Christmas and periodically sent texts with tasks for him to complete. (It wouldnāt do to dwell on the fact that Merlin hadnāt gone home for Christmas with his mum and Arthur seemed to have figured that would be the case.) Merlin, despite popular belief, wasnāt an idiot. He was completely aware that he was attracted to Arthur, but he was also aware that Arthur was sort of a cabbage-head and didnāt sail his way. But, even knowing that, it didnāt mean being left alone on the dance floor hadnāt stung.
Though Arthur liked to deny it, Merlin knew him. He knew that their jibes at each other were all jest, that Arthurās āauthoritativeā voice was just for show, and that, deep down, he was a good man that Merlin liked being around.
And dancing with.
11:27.
Heād been staring at the obnoxious red block letters since 10:42:01..02ā¦03ā¦04ā¦. and he was pretty sure the numbers were engraved for eternity in his retinas. He also hadnāt blinked in a good four minutes and 36 seconds. Exactly. Heād counted.
āPushed in? Doesnāt that seem a little sitcom?ā He said offendedly; his responses to Arthur automatic.
11:28.
He turned to look at Arthur, pressing his lips together. He glanced at the water after Arthurās threat, and forgetting all anger or resentment, grinned. āIf I go in, youāre coming with me. Could be fun, or I could crack my head on the bottom. Yours would probably bounce.ā
āI didnāt know if you were coming tonight. You know, after I sort of ditched you at the ball. Sorry about that I justā¦ā
āDonāt worry about it. You left me with about four hundred of my closest friends.ā
Arthur gave another uncomfortable wriggle as the ice started to numb his backside. He was wondering how on earth Merlin had been sitting here for so long, although he did have a boney backside, albeit a good looking one, perhaps that helped fight off the frost.
āPerhaps, but itās a tradition.ā Arthur explained, looking back up at the clock board again. āAnd so are the annual New Years trips to the emergency department for frost bite and hypothermia.ā
Arthur laughed and leant to shove Merlin playfully with his elbow. āIf Iām going in I can assure you that youāll be pulled in soon after.ā
He went quiet after that, acutely aware of the giant elephant in the room, or courtyard, or fountain perhaps. The elephant also known as we danced together and it was beyond obvious for both of that it wasnāt platonic and wow I really want to kiss you to see what it feels like but that can never happen.
Arthur let a slow and all too nervous breath, it hung in he air infront of him, frozen as if to reiterate the point.
āYeah- I, Iām still sorry. I never wanted to embarrass you or anything I think I got a bit carried away.ā He took a small sip from his drink that had sat forgotten on the edge of the fountain until now - it was another one of those orange ones with the LED stirrer heād discovered whilst flirting with Lua. Arthur felt a pang of guilt and confusion at that. He hadnāt wanted tonight to be a repeat of the Christmas ball, and so heād tried to forget about Merlin, half hoping he might not even turn up. Perhaps heād been overcompensating for his new revelation about his sexuality with the whole macho playboy front with Lua, but when heād seen Merlin sitting there, rather alone and small and just Merlin, that had all slipped away. And despite the awkwardness and everything that was going unsaid and his freezing arse, Arthur felt comfortable, and happy, and warm just to be sitting next to Merlin like this. As if none of that other stuff mattered so long as they were here.
āDo you like eggnog, Merlin? I know itās for Christmas but I like it at New Years too and they didnāt have any I was most annoyed.ā He said spontaneously. It pained him a little that he knew rather little of Merlin, he was so guarded after all, as if scared of anyone getting too close. Liking eggnog was a trivial detail but something Arthur felt it necessary to know.
The clock read 11.47pm. Arthur decided that this is how he wanted to welcome in the New Year. Not in the middle of a mass of people who were drunk out of their minds screaming the lyrics to a song Arthur didnāt know. No, he wanted to spend the last few moments of 2012, and the first few of 2013 sitting here, on the edge of the icy fountain, with Merlin.
Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong.
The first thing he registered past Arthurās hand is fondling my back was and now Iām wet. He had been aware of the clock counting down, but in a vague, dream-scape sort of way. As though he was remembering it from years ago, instead of living it. It was soothing, really, and Merlin wished he was in control of the situation and knew how to repeat it. As it was, he could only watch the world blur and colors light up the sky in his peripheral vision while his primary focus was on Arthur Pendragon.
Arthur Pendragon who he was supposed to loathe. Arthur Pendragon who was an egotistical, condescending, arrogant clotpole. Arthur Pendragon who was really none of that at all (ok, he really was a clotpole, but thatās irrelevant).
Arthur Pendragon who had somehow moved his way into Merlinās heart and taken up permanent residence, no matter how hard he tried to pretend that wasnāt so.
Now, that brings us back to something is really wrong.
It could be the alcohol Merlin hasnāt been drinking, but heās pretty damn sure that the crowd was propelled into a hysteric frenzy by the palpitations of his heart. The seconds ticking down, his heart speeding up, and the mob of students following its lead. He was watching Arthur closely, the looming promise of a new year becoming the most accurate cliche of his life as the other man was suddenly taking up all his vision. His first instinct was to run. Run or move away; and although part of his brain was screaming this isnāt right - Arthurās just teasing you, heāll lean in and then pull away and laugh at the gullible queer - the larger, more logical part of his head knew, just knew, that Arthur wanted this as much as he did. And as the clock kept ticking down and Arthurās breath was warming his reddened nose, Merlin realized just how much he wanted this.
It was sort of funny how things happened. Or, at least, how things happened for Merlin. He often wondered why he couldnāt just meet a guy at the coffee shop, share flirtatious glances, then find a slip of paper with the other manās number scribbled on it in his hand. Or, you know, not be born with all this power and no idea how to really use it. Why he hadnāt just gone to University, but to a place quite literally made of legends and then been mixed up in what could only be destiny and ordered to serve the resident arse of Camelot. Trouble was attracted to Merlin, no matter how hard he tried to keep a low profile. Despite that, despite the superficial piece of him screaming for a ānormalā life, Merlin loved all he had. And by the gods, he loved the way Arthurās blue eyes sparked when he whispered, āHappy New Year, Merlin.ā
ā¦.Merlinās mind didnāt catch up with what was happening until it was too late. (But heās pretty sure he tried to wish the same back at Arthur but only managed to get out āHappy NeāOaf!) He yelped as Arthur pulled him into the water, but he couldnāt really mind once Arthur was tumbling in with him. (For the record, this fountain was huge and it tempted Merlin to jump into every pool of water on campus to test the depth. Heād ask Arthur to join him in his experiment later.)
Merlin had never been particularly graceful, so being forcibly tossed in a fountain coupled with his general clumsiness, he flailed a bit upon impact until he was doing a mockery of treading water and instead tangling himself in Arthur.
Then Merlin felt something. He was desperately pulling at Arthur and kissing Arthur, but there was something else. As soon as his lips made contact with the blondās, his magic surged in a way that felt warm and natural. Like all this time, his magic was just settling into his blood and bones, waiting for the day it could flow over Arthur. It seemed to like him. He hoped Arthur hadnāt noticed, but the sudden heat that was coming over them in waves couldnāt be denied. In fact, Merlin canāt remember ever feeling this good before.
His hands were pulling at blond hair that flew in all directions against the churning water, aggravated as students kept spilling in. He bucked his head upward, trying to gain better leverage to Arthurās mouth. He was content to stay in this moment forever - soaking wet and on public display and all - but the need to breathe was becoming hard to ignore. With one last desperate interlocking of their lips and a soft bite to Arthurās lower pout, Merlin let go and resurfaced with an impressive gasp.
And then reality came crashing down.
That just happened. He just kissed Arthur Pendragon. And liked it.
When Arthur broke the surface of the water, his limbs still intwined in Merlinās, wrapped around him like he was something precious, their lips were still locked together in desperate pressure, sending Arthurās head spinning and warm electric like shocks of warmth through his body despite the fact he was chest deep in freezing water.
He was vaguely aware, between frantic changes of angle, intwining of tongues and possibly the occasional embarrassing half-moan, that this was maybe not a good idea. Whilst Arthur had dreamt about doing this for a long time (verging on fantasizing), he hadnāt exactly envisioned doing it quite so publicly. Somewhere between running his hand down Merlinās back and nipping at his bottom lip he had a sudden moment of thinking Merlin might be incredibly cross with him, at least after theyād stopped frantically kissing which they didnāt seem to be doing any time soon. Arthur had just pulled him into a fountain and basically forced his lips upon the poor boy - not to mention possibly outed him to the entire school, if that wasnāt already a thing. Only after having this thought did Arthur realize that heād also outed himself to the entire school in this wild act of either drunken spontaneity, love crazed insanity or hormonal adolecence, Arthur hadnāt decided which it was yet but probably a mixture of all three, especially the last one, Arthur noted as his thoughts turned to down below area, which was quite impressively very enthusiastic about the whole situation considering it was probably below freezing in the fountain water.
With reluctance, Arthur finally pulled away from Merlin, not daring to look him in the eyes but refusing to look away from him at the same time. He was smiling like a complete idiot, he knew that, heād probably be laughing with utter euphoria too if two thoughts werenāt clouding his mind. The first being that Merlin might completely hate him. Maybe he didnāt even like Arthur, I mean heād said countless times that Arthur was a clotpole, whatever that meant, and now heād gone and pushed him into a fountain for crying out loud. The other thing that was a more distant but equally present and registered thought was the fact that heād enjoyed it. Heād enjoyed kissing Merlin. A man. Another man. Kissing. And not just a drunken snog as part of a dare but a planned, passionate as hell, boner inducing kiss in a fountain like from some romantic comedy. This basically stripped away any comforting reassurance that maybe Arthur was just āgoing through a phaseā or ājust liked Merlin as a friend.ā This was the real deal. And this was scary, and new, and exciting.
If he had looked away he might have noticed that they had attracted a few curious glances but in general the other students in the fountain were wrapped up in their own violent make out sessions - that and getting the hell out of there which Arthur suddenly realized would probably be a good idea.
Refusing to let go of Merlin for even the briefest of moments, despite still being unable to look Merlin in the eyes, Arthur motion to the side of the fountain with his head and wordlessly led him to the side, hauling him up infront of him, pausing to register how small but absolutely amazing Merlin felt underneath his hands, before pulling himself up onto the ledge. Only then did the cold really hit him, as it did Merlin who was violently shivering now that their lips werenāt interlocked anymore. Arthur shed his dripping coat, probably ruined and forever waterlogged, drooping it over Merlinās shoulder and scooting closer to him as the last few fireworks illuminated the dark sky with flashes of red and blue.
āIāve been wanting to do that for a while.ā Arthur admitted, leaning in so that his forehead nearly touched the side of Merlinās head, his breath tickling the sensitively cold skin on his neck. He bit his lip nervously and waited for Merlin to say something. To reassure him. Even to kiss him again, if he wanted to. Arthur would like that.
~Chapter 6: 90ās teen films~
āMerlin, I-uh, well, thanks for coming. This spot is, well, fitting to say the least. Ignore what I said about the coat, you can keep it if you like. ā
āEr, yeah, no problem. I figured itād be apropos. Oh! Uh-I mean, you donātā¦.thanks. Are you just saying that because the fountain water ruined it?ā
āNo problem, and no I think if you dry clean it itāll be fine. Dry cleaning is one of your specialities, Merlin.
So, uh, you donāt hate me forā¦ /leans in and lowers voice a little/ kissing you, do you? I mean Iā¦ found it enjoyable, I might quite like to do it again. But Iām sorry if I was out of place - I just need to know where I stand I guess. This is all new for me. ā
āAnd what do you know about dry cleaning?
You donāt need to whisper. Everyone knows already. ā¦I mean unless you want to whisper because youāre embarrassed. I mean, I know Iām not much or rich or anything but I really enjoyed kissing you too and Iād like it to be a common occurrence but Iām not into that āfriends with benefitsā thing and I donāt even know if thatās the right term if youāre just kissing and, wait, no! I donāt mean we should immediately do more than kissing. Andā¦.I, um, shutting up now.ā
āā¦ not a lot butā¦ Iām sure it would- oh forget it just keep the damn coat, Merlin.
No! Iām notā¦ not embarrassed. I mean I might have preferred doing it somewhere a bit more private, in hind sight of course. Sorry for the whole fountain thing, but in all fairness I did warn you about sitting there.
Um, Iād like that. Not the friends with benefits thing- the other thing. The kissing thing. I donāt know about doing anything else, not yet anyway I mean I donāt know how- this is all new. I didnāt exactly know that I wasā¦ you know, until I met you. Itās been quite hard.
/laughs/ Okay, hard was possibly not the best choice of words actually- or maybe it was, considering. ā
āFine. If you insist. You warned me other people might throw me in! You neglected to mention youād be the one doing the throwing.
Youā¦You mean, Iā¦, Iām the first guy youāve liked? Or, er, I mean if you like me that is. I know Iām a world class kisser, but Iām hoping youāre not just exploiting me talents.
Did you just make an erection joke at me? /Laughs with him/ Youāre maturity never seizes to astound me. ā
āYeah, well maybe I just wanted an excuse to, well, I thought it might be kind of romantic, but it turned out just cold. Bloody, ass-freezing cold.
And yes. Yes you are. And yes I doā¦like you that is. I kind of thought that, well, I mean I assumed I was straight but then you came along and messed all of that up I mean do you even know how much stress youāve caused me? Iām probably failing most of my classes because of all this pent up sexu- stress. I mean stress. And you arenāt exactly a world class kisser... but you certainly arenāt the worst, Iāll give you that.
/Clears throat/ Iām sure thatās not the only thing about me thatāll astound you, Merlin.
So, er, what happens now?ā
āIt was both; romantic andā¦did you say ass-freezing? How apropos. Did I mention your little stunt got me sick?
Thatās convenient, considering I like you to. Iā¦I mean I know I never had a tyrant for a father-er, sorry, I didnāt mean that-but I still had to figure out I was gay. I mean, if you want someone to talk toā¦I think Iād be a good candidate. I am to a world class kisser. Youāre just jealous of my talent.
/Arches eyebrow/ Oh, I know that, Arthur.
What do you, er, want to happen now?ā
āIāve been coughing up fountain water for the past five days too, you know. My stunt sort of backfired I guess.
Thatās- yes. Convenient. Or lucky, perhaps. Iām going to ignore the tyrant thing and say thanks, for the offer I mean. I might just take you up on that but donāt be getting any ideas you still have to tidy my room.
How can you know that, Merlin? I can only assume that youāve thought rather extensively about it then, aboutme. And - well, /clears throat/ perhaps more of the kissingā¦ thing. If thatās okay, I mean. Maybe I need a second sampling of your world class kissing before I make my mind up. ā
āI wouldnāt say it was a total failure. /Looks down with a shrug/ You got your point across.
I would expect nothing less from a sloppy sod such as yourself. But, yeah, maybe in-between cleaning your room and shining your shoes, we can, uh, talk about it.
What! No! I mean. No. Uh. /Clears throat/ I never think about you, unless itās to decide what new degrading term I should label you as.
Ofā¦Of course thatās ok. But, you know, Iāmā¦.Iām in pretty high demand. So you may have to work for another demonstration of my skills. So, um, you know, maybe a date or something.ā
āPerhaps not in the most orthodox of ways but Iām glad weāre finally on the same page. /leans in a bit further to Merlin/
Oi! Watch it, donāt you have to be nice to me now that weāreā¦ that Iā¦ you know. I donāt think youāre allowed to call someone whoās thrown you into a fountain and kissed you things like that!
Well, no Iām sure you havenāt but just in case you had been wonderingā¦ back on that day you helped me fold clothes; it fits snuggly. I think you know what Iām talking about. /winks/
/Laughs/ Yepp, sure, fair enough. Iām sure everyone wants a piece ofā¦ this. Theyāre probably lining up outside door right now. But, uh, Iād love to take you out. I mean- if thatās alright. I donāt know if- Iāve only gone on dates with girls so I suppose itās the same thing. Not to say youāre a girl!- well, perhaps just a little. But yes, Iwould like to. Maybeā¦ tomorrow night? ā
āLetās be honest, the moment weāre completely nice to each other is the moment we know weāve been replaced by robots. Or someone polyjuiced copies of us.
/Gawks for a moment, then scoffs/ Iāll believe it when I see it, Arthur. THAT CAME OUT WRONGā-/Calmly, dead pan/ So, whatās your opinion on world politics?
Youād be surprised, Mr.Iām-The-One-And-Only-Catch-At-Camelot. Never mind, thatās not true Iāve only ever been hit on by Will and at the time I was with Freya and thatās more information than you needed. Of course itās alright, you dunderhead! I did imply that I wanted you to ask me. /Sighs with a smile/ Yes, itās the same concept. Tomorrow night. Yeah, yeah, tomorrow night.ā
āYeah okay fair enough, you useless, idiotic, clumsy oaf, you. See? Nothing has changed. /bats Merlin around the head/
Oh! Will you? I thought you wanted me to take you out for dinner first?
But um- Iām glad we had this conversation. I mean, Iām glad I met you, Merlin. Iām sorry if I do something wrong as I said this is all completely new, and scary, to be honest. But I think I like it.
So, tomorrow night then? Iāll text you but- before I go, donāt you think I get at least another taste of your world class abilities? /glances around the courtyard/ ā
āBetter, better. The balance has been restored to nature. /Rubs the back of his head/ Oy!
I, I, Iā¦ I mean I do! I didnāt mean it like that! Shut up, Arthur, and take me out to dinner.
Me too. Me too. /Swallows hard/ Iām glad I met you too, you supercilious, arrogant, clotpole. Just, donāt think of it asā¦as a āgayā date. Youāre just going on a date. ā¦With me.
Tomorrow night. Oh? Already going through withdrawal? /Smiles, leaning in, slowly. Waits until their lips are centimeters apart, moves in and moves away at the last minute. Simultaneously shoving Arthur into the pond./ā
āYes, okay. I can do that. Just a date. A date with a guy. Not a gay date just a date with y- unf!
/Scrambles up from the bottom of the fountain, breaching the surface drenched through and gasping/
MERLIN! WHAT THE- WHY DID YOU DO THAT?
I am - you are so going to pay for that! /Pulls himself up onto the ledge and splashes water at Merlin with his arm slung over the side./
/Clears throat, wiping his hair from his eyes./ Merlin. Come here. /A few menacing strides towards Merlin before chasing him across the courtyard/ā
~Chapter 7: Here goes nothing.~
Arthur fidgeted nervously with his thumb ring while sitting in his car, engine running idly. There was still time to back out, to drive back to university and never speak to Merlin again. There was still time.
Of course, any notion of doing that quickly faded whenever Arthurās mind flashed back to Merlinās warm embrace and the heat of his lips on Arthurās that night in the fountain. Yes, that image was more than enough to will away any though of driving back and burrowing back into his world of blissfully ignorant heterosexuality.
Merlin had said donāt think of this as a gay date. Which was easier for him to say because of course heād had a longer to adjust than Arthur had. If youād told Arthur heād being going out on a date with another bloke 6 months ago he would have laughed and probably punched you in the face.
Arthur switched off the engine to his car as he scanned the Cardiff waterfront for Merlin. Arthur had been out of uni all day on a trip to the city, and had arranged for Merlin to meet him at the restaurant getting a bus down from Camelot.
The restaurant in question was one of the finest in the city. It was in the modern part of the waterfront, looking out onto the sun which was setting slowly over the bay. Itās huge glass windows were decorated painstakingly with floor to ceiling fairy lights that shone with a delicate gold color, illuminating the elegant and modern decor inside.
Of course Merlin was bloody late.
Arthur sighed and got out of the car, locked it with a gesture of keys over his shoulder and walked to the restaurant so as not to miss his booking.
āPendragon.ā He said to the waiter, feeling a smug smile pulling at his cheeks at how he reacted, snapping to attention and pulling two menus from his podium.
āOf course sir, just over here.ā He followed the man to a table by the window, waving him away when he tried to pour water and saying heād be ordering when his date arrived.
His date.
Arthurās date. Merlin. Merlin was his date.
Merlin had gotten lost. Getting on a bus was the easy part, sitting and waiting until he arrived at his destination was even easier. What had been failed to be mentioned was different buses led to different places. Including, but not limited to, Cardiff. Heād been under the hopeful impression that whichever bus he hopped on would drop him off in Cardiff for his date. (Merlin, thereās no need to blush every time you think about it. Calm down. Check your hormones.)
Heās not entirely sure how it happened, but he ended up in Bristol.
He wandered around aimlessly for a good twenty minutes before another bus came. (One he almost missed because heād sauntered away from the bus stop to go exploring. Heād always been a curious person, apparently too much for his own good, considering he ended up chasing down a bus he hoped he was supposed to get on.) He attributed his carelessness to nerves. He knew Arthur was going to pull out all the stops, and while Merlin much preferred a lie in, bad chinese food, and trash television, he couldnāt find it in himself to deny Arthur thisā¦.this fancy-shamncy dinner.
Arthur was used to wooing girls and flaunting his wealth. It was clear that Arthur was unsure how to treat this evening, so he resorted to what he does best; what he knows. Merlin would comply and probably drink more of that delicious champagne while heās at it.
That being said, Merlin knew he was going to walk into that restaurant a clear outcast. (A clear,late outcast.) He didnāt have a suit, so he threw on the black skinny jeans Gwaine had bought him and a (only mildly, to his credit) wrinkled white button down. Heād thrown on his favorite black bow-tie, because, hey, he could be classy too.
Now, back to those nerves. Merlin canāt remember a time when a date made him this jittery and unsure of himself. He also couldnāt decide if that was because it was a date with a Pendragon, or if it was because it was with Arthur. Heād like to think itās the latter, because its been a long time since the idea of holding someoneās hand gave him butterflies (let alone that kiss. That gave him an entirely different set of tingles that he should not mention at a five star eatery.)
Could you call prestigious rich-guy restaurants eateries?
When Merlin found himself at the restaurant-not-eatery in question, he wasnāt sure how to proceed. Did he go to the podium and say he was here for Arthur Pendragon? Or did he just saunter in and hope he caught Arthurās eye? Or did he text Arthur to come get him at the front door? Deciding to be daring - he was on a date with Arthur Pendragon, after all - he walked past the host with full conviction and made his way inside. All previous determination lost when he looked at the scale and class of the place. He swallowed and shrunk in on himself; hands in pockets and foot kicking idly against the ground.
Come on, Arthur. Where are yā-āYouāre late, Merlin.ā
āYou didnāt tell me which bus to get on.ā
Arthur stood to meet Merlin, he didnāt know if that was appropriate, and had to refrain from taking his hand and kissing it - a force of habit that he decided would just embarrass them both.
As Merlin sat down in the opposite seat, looking rather small and sheepish and out of place in his crinkled white shirt, skinny jeans and bow tie - with a distinct lack of dinner jacket, Arthur feigned a serious look of disappointment.
Of course it crumpled the moment the flickering candle light from the tea-lamp on the table caught Merlinās blue eyes and cheekbones and made him look so damned attractive (despite the bowtie) that Arthurās hard-lined mouth twisted itself into a smile and he found himself laughing whole heartedly. Rather instinctively Arthur found his right hand reaching across the table to twist his fingers around Merlinās own. He looked him in the eyes.
āIām going to forgive the fact you donāt even have the basic literacy level to read a bus timetable and the fact that youāre wearing skinny jeans with a button down and bow-tie because Iām assuming the mere thought of going on a date with me had you hot and bothered all day so you couldnāt think straight.ā Arthur finished with sincerity giving Merlin a small wink before leaning back and letting go of his hand, raising a hand for the waiter who had been observing the two from a few table across.
āWeāll have champagne. And whatever the chef recommends to start, donāt worry about the price.ā The stiffly dressed waiter gave them an odd look before turning on his heel, saying something about fetching a glass for Arthurāsdate - but the way he spat out the word ādateā made Arthur want to flick him the middle finger. He refrained, just.
And it only just occurred to Arthur, that the way Merlin had dressed, the way heād looked awkward and shy and out of place stepping into the restaurant - this wasnāt what he was used to. This wasnāt adate for Merlin. But in truth Arthur didnāt know any different. Any date heād ever been on had consisted of a fancy, highly priced restaurant - various girls in expensive designer dresses whoās fathers expected them dropped home by 11. What was Merlinās idea of a date? What did normal people consider was appropriate? Sitting at home watching an old movie and eating pizza? Arthur failed to find the romance nor the class in that. What if Merlinās idea of a date was just, well, sex? Arthur felt hot and nervous at the thought of that, not that sex with Merlin was off putting, infact the complete opposite it had more than once slipped itself into Arthurās thoughts-daydreams-fantasies; things that made him blush and feel guilty because this was all so new.
Arthur poured himself a glass of water, feeling the heat rising in his skin as the waiter returned with a bottle of champagne.
āI-uh, thanks for comingā¦ Merlin. I hope you- well, uh, had a nice day? Apart from the wrong busā¦thing.ā
Arthurās incoherent string of thoughts had well and truly left him flustered and uneasy. He cleared his throat, twice, and took a sip from his glass. He couldnāt taste the champagne and instead glugged down half the glass in one go. The waiter returned with two elegant platters of caviar on bruschetta with salmon and various other āgastronomical fusion dishesā that Arthur couldnāt quite identify. He gave Merlin a weak grin from across the table. Why does this feel so wrong?
He smiled at the way it rolled of his tongue so naturally, straightened his jacket and suddenly wondered if Merlin would have caught on to the fact that he would need to wear a dinner suit to a place like this. Did Merlin own a dinner suit? Arthur knew he owned a hideous bow-tie. Of course, Arthur wouldnāt strictly mind if Merlin came underdressed- no Arthur your mind is definitely in the gutter now.
Arthur settled into his seat, absorbing the dull murmur of restaurant noises mixed in with the soft music playing behind it. Everything was gold or silver juxtaposed onto stark white. Arthur ran his fingers through his fringe, pushing it to one side and checking his reflection in the back of a spoon.
Eventually, only fifteen minutes later, Arthur looked over to the restaurant door opening, catching the familiar dark scruff of hair, the blue eyes, blur of stubble. Merlin. His Merlin.
āYouāre late, Mer-lin.ā
Merlin feigned annoyance the moment Arthur spoke, he sat down and folded in on himself (or as much as he could with a flick of his eyes. He may be an amateur at fancy dinner dining, but he had enough knowhow to assume that curling your knees to your chest and hiding away is probably frowned upon. So heād have to resort to making his face look really, really awkward.) He felt silly, like he was wearing a costume and thrust into a new world. He just wanted to grab Arthur by the tie (which looked to be silk, and oh god, Merlin had clearly been doing too much of the pratās laundry to know expensive brands by just looking at them) and haul him out to kiss in the parking lot. Or something equally cliche. As long as it didnāt involve this restaurant.
But, he also wanted to make Arthur happy. He wanted to prove to Arthur that if he wanted to choose Merlin for his own, Merlin could fit in with these high society types. (Which he couldnāt, at least not yet. Shh. Heād take an online course or something.) He wasnāt socially inept, just unsure and self-conscious, and Arthur needed to see that. Needed to know that Merlin could beā¦something more to him. So, heād suck it up, stop mentally referring to himself as the black sheep in the room, and figure out which of these dozens of forks heās supposed to use first.
For Arthur.
āRight, yeah, the mere thought of you in the same room with me sends me into violent arousal,ā He countered, grinning. āOy! I like my bow tie!ā If Arthur taking his hand away from Merlinās left a little empty feeling in his stomach, Merlin wasnāt going to mention it.
While Arthur stopped to catch the waiterās attention, Merlin took the opportunity to survey the room a bit more. There were couples of all sorts, he noticed, old, young, group dates, business meetings, family outings (why not just go skiing?); but as he looked around more thoroughly, he couldnāt help but notice there were no same sex couples. At all. Anywhere. (The three or four large men in suits who were obviously discussing stock holdings didnāt count.) The realization only proved to make Merlin feel smaller and, well, guilty. Was he going to get Arthur in trouble? What was Arthur risking just to kiss him, hold his hand, run his thumb along his cheek bonesā¦. and what was he saying? Oh right. This might be a bad idea.
Merlin looked down sheepishly, completely ignoring Arthurās poor attempt at appearing macho,āI donāt care about the price,ā oh yeah, Merlin was turned on now. He was also blissfully ignorant of Arthurās musings, his own head swimming with ways this could all go so, so wrong. He didnāt want to admit it, but he wanted to be here with Arthur. Wanted more than just dates. Charming, handsome, intelligent Arthur who hid the best parts of himself from the rest of the world. The parts Merlin captured when he was offered them in secret and kept, to hold, protect, adore.
But not if he was going to be such a risk.
āI-uh, thanks for comingā¦ Merlin. I hope you- well, uh, had a nice day? Apart from the wrong busā¦thing.ā
Pulled from his musings, Merlin just nodded with a grin. āWhat? Oh yeah. I wanted a tour of Bristol anyway. And, ermā¦..thanks for inviting me?ā
He swallowed.
With a glance down at the plate they were just offered, Merlin lifted a fork (he didnāt care which, they all looked like forks to him) and prodded the object. āArthur, what is that?ā
Arthur fidgeted with his tie knot, raising the tiny silver fork to his plate, not commenting on the fact that Merlin was using the wrong piece of cutlery for his own.
āItās deconstructedā¦ā Arthur started, waving his hand over the plate of caviar and toasted bruschetta with scattered micro flowers and fused oils and ridiculously, painstakingly placed stuffed olives that were piled up on a spike, threatening to topple over like the pile of t-shirts Merlin had stacked on Arthurās drawers all those months ago.
āā¦ deconstructed something.ā Arthur said, suddenly finding himself laughing. He felt his shoulders drop as if a weight suddenly slid off, his jaw unclench, the collar of his shirt no longer felt as tight. He remembered why he was here. It wasnāt to woo the stuck up daughter of some aristocrat his father was friends with. Tonight was about Merlin. And about finally being free to be with who he wanted to be with. It was about Merlin and his ridiculous bow tie, his awkward glances around the room, his cheekbones that caught the light from the flickering candle. It was about the fact Arthur could be here with him, without the need to impress him, or buy things for him, or be anything other than who he really wanted to be. Arthur was so set to date-autopilot that heād forgotten what tonight was really supposed to be about.
Arthur set his fork down gently.
āYou donāt want to be here, do you?ā He said slowly, swallowing a small sip of champagne, and then a large sip, and then the rest of the glass.
āI mean really. Youāre only here because this is what my idea of a date is, isnāt it?ā Merlin looked small and unsteady in the elegant, silver chair opposite. He kept casting uneasy glances around the restaurant Arthur wasnāt an idiot he knew theyād likely be the only same sex ācoupleā in the restaurant. People rich enough for places like this didnāt put up with things they didnāt like, and infact Arthur was surprised theyād gotten this far.
āFinish your champagne ā Arthur said rather quickly, pulling at his tie to loosen it, undoing the top button of his shirt with a glint of excitement in his eyes. āWeāre getting out of here.ā
The next part was a bit of a blur of limbs and movement. Arthur taking Merlinās slightly uneasy and clammy hand in his own strong grasp. Walking through the restaurant with his date in tow, not paying attention to the gasps and looks as Merlinās glass hit the polished wood floor and shattered after the sudden movement. The cold blast of Cardiffās evening air as the door opened, the two of them slipping out into the night as if escaping a gold and purple velvet prison cell, not before Arthur shot the waiter a smug middle finger as the passed out through the door.
āWhere do you want to go then? The night is ours.ā Arthur said, a little jittery and hoarse with excitement as he spun Merlin around by the hand he still held, his lips brushing barely millimeters from the line of Merlinās hair, his neck. He felt so empowered by the simple act of walking out of a restaurant it was ridiculous, but Arthur felt freer than he had for as long as he could remember.
