A Fortunate Fall (18/18)
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toodelicious Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 2608
Progress: 18/18 [COMPLETE]
Summary: Single father Arthur Pendragon, at the end of his rope, finds a miracle in the form of a young cashier boy at the local convenience store. As for Merlin, he's not quite sure about what to make of his new job as an au pair for the wealthiest man in town; but he does know that his employer has more than a few skeletons in his closet.
Notes: And there you have it, the final chapter. :) I really have mixed feelings about this, on one hand, I'm so relieved that it's over, and on the other hand, I'm really sad to see it end. It was a little too ambitious for my first real project, and I've seriously learned a lot from it. A lovely thank you to all my readers, and hugs for all. Couldn't have done it without you guys! <333
Previous Chapters found here: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/tag/a+fort
"I have a headache," Arthur complained for the umpteenth time (Merlin lost count at twenty-seven) as he dragged himself over to the large bed and sprawled out limply on it. "Why did I ever let you convince me that Disneyland with Morgana was a good idea?"
"You're making it sound like this was all my idea," Merlin bolted the door securely before making his way over to where Arthur lay. "I only contributed when I said 'everyone needs a vacation from time to time'."
"Which Alex mistook as, 'hey, let's bring Aunt Morgana and Uncle Orwaine and a baby that never stops crying'. You didn't even bother to correct him." Arthur's voice was muffled by his pillow.
"Come off it, this was supposed to be Alex's present anyway, and Morgana and Orwaine paid for their own tickets," Merlin laid beside him on the bed. "Besides, I think Rosalie is adorable."
Arthur stared at him, "We spent an hour on the car listening to her cry and you still think she's adorable. You should get your head checked, we should have gone before my tickets expired." He set his chin stubbornly on the pillow, "This was not the way I wanted to spend my Thanksgiving break."
Merlin hid a smile, "You're being a prat again. How would you like to spend your Thanksgiving break then, Mr. Pendragon? Bahamas?"
"I'm not being a prat," Arthur looked offended. But then he turned away from Merlin. "I don't know...somehow, I thought it'd be quieter, and...more time with you."
Merlin threaded a hand slowly through Arthur's hair. It was a small gesture, but one that he knew that Arthur liked. "It's quiet now and it was awfully nice of Morgana and Orwaine to take Alex for the night. We have the room all to ourselves."
"It'd be nice if I could move," Arthur grumbled. Merlin had always thought Arthur would be a bit bitchy--there was honestly no nicer word for it, demanding didn't quite suit--in bed, but it was one of the things that he found endeari ng about Arthur, maybe. "And you know the only reason that Alex isn't staying with us tonight is because she has to make up to me."
"God, Arthur, you're never going to let that go, are you? Babies are babies, they throw up. You're not going to make Rosalie pay for dry cleaning, are you?"
"I resent that. Alex never threw up on me."
Merlin had to grin, "sorry to break it to you, but that's just blatant favoritism right there, you probably just forgot. I''ve lost count of how many times Mordred threw up on me when he was little."
"Sorry, but I'm not a saint," Arthur mumbled.
"You should try being one, it's not so bad." Merlin kissed him, again, and again, until Arthur made a strange mewling noise from his throat. "Blond prats are a constant hazard though."
Now Arthur made a sound that was meant to be disapproving, but ended up being rather pathetic instead. He grabbed for Merlin and narrowly avoided his grasp with a grin. "I thought you couldn't move."
"I half lied," Arthur didn't look at all amused. "Come here. I feel like dislocated my spine."
Merlin felt a bit guilty, this whole Disneyland trip seemed to be more than Arthur could handle. Alex had been so insistent on bringing his aunt and uncle and baby cousin along that Merlin knew Arthur hadn't the heart to say no. "Don't be so drastic, Arthur, it was fun, here--turn over."
Arthur did, "You're warped in the head--oh."
"What--?" Merlin had rolled his hips just so, because Arthur's back was usually messed up in the same spot, and he'd long since discovered that his hips were an unexpectedly apt remedy.
"You're just going to be a bastard about this, aren't you?"
"Not particularly, you help yourself very well in that department." Merlin kissed his cheek. "Should I keep going?"
Arthur gave him a look, "I wonder why they don't call you a prat."
Sex was...still awkward. Because Arthur was still accustomed to having sex with women and Merlin always told himself not to expect too much the first few times. And after the first time, Merlin had retreated into the guest bedroom for a week because neither of them could come to terms with how different this was, how much work it would take.
Tonight, their bodies fit. Maybe it was the magic of a hotel suite, or maybe Arthur's spine wasn't as dislocated as he'd like to think, in Merlin's enthusiastic opinion, it wasn't dislocated at all.
Later, Merlin cradled Arthur limply in his arms and watched him sleep. Arthur mumbled something that sounded a lot like 'I love you,' against his collarbone.
"...What?"
"You're an idiot," Arthur told him, "I did say it, all right? You didn't imagine it."
"I...oh."
And of course, he couldn't really ask Arthur to say it again, so that Merlin could relish it properly, but he knew once Arthur had convinced himself to say it once, he'd say it again. Merlin just had to be patient.
Pressing a kiss to Arthur's ear, he whispered it back.
--
Arthur wrote Gwen letters. He wasn't anywhere near as poetic as she was, but he gave it his best, and he always gave the letters to Merlin to read before he sent them off. He wrote mostly about Alex and how his son was doing in school, he'd adjusted very well to the third grade, despite initial concern from many of his school counselors that he wouldn't.
"Merlin?"
Merlin looked up to see Alex peering at him, "Yeah?"
"Does it bother you when Dad writes to Mom?"
This made him pause, Alex was seven now and he had the philosophy to show for it. Merlin shrugged finally, "He's not writing anything really, just about you. She's your mother, Alex, she deserves to know these things."
Alex looked at him for a long minute and then crawled into his lap like he was a little kid again. He'd stopped crawling into anyone's lap ever since he started the third grade, but Merlin didn't mention that and held him for a long time.
--
"I think it's bothering Merlin that you're writing to Mom so often."
Arthur looked away from his computer and turned towards Alex, who was leaning against the doorframe of his study, "I don't write her often. Just maybe twice a week."
"You could just e-mail her," Alex pointed out.
"Alex, your mother doesn't have a computer," Arthur looked at him hard a moment. "What's this really about?"
Alex entered the room and sat in Arthur's other chair, swiveled it around listlessly, kicking his feet. "I dunno."
--
"Does it bother you?"
"Huh?"
Merlin usually slept in a large sweater and boxers when it was cold. He also liked reading in bed and Arthur had never understood it. Tonight, Merlin was reading something that looked like historical fiction. "Does it bother you when I write to Gwen?"
At once, Merlin looked thoughtful, "Alex told you?"
"Yeah."
Merlin sighed, "No, it doesn't bother me, I don't have to like it, but it doesn't bother me. If anything, I think it bothers Alex."
Arthur sighed, "I guess...I could stop writing," he acknowledged the option with a sort of a martyred air.
"Arthur, we've had this discussion before," Merlin reached over and set the book on the night table, "I"m going to learn how to accept this and you're going to work on letting go, else this will never work. If writing letters help you, then write them."
It took Arthur only a moment's hesitation to realize that he loved Merlin, not as much as Gwen, but at least he wasn't ashamed to say it like last time. "I love you."
Merlin's smile was a burst of gold, "I know."
--
Arthur stopped the letters a few months after that, Merlin noted; and he was secretly ashamed of himself for being so glad--because that almost meant that he really had been jealous. Or maybe it wasn't jealousy, maybe it was fear, that Gwen's hold over Arthur was never going to diminish.
It was Alex's job to get the mail every day, Arthur had this brilliant idea of giving his son chores so that he didn't seem spoiled. In Merlin's private opinion, Alex wasn't really, but it was good for the kid to have something to do. And the mail came every day after Alex came home from school, so it made for a convenient arrangement for everyone.
"I think Grandpa sent me something, look!"
Merlin turned around when Alex held up a plain looking envelope. He was surprised, to say the least.
"Why don't you open it?"
Alex did, and his eyes bulged, "Grandpa sent me a check for five hundred dollars!"
Merlin pursed his lips, Arthur was not going to pleased about this. Although they'd reached a tentative agreement to have a drink, he didn't know if sending Alex a check for five hundred dollars violated that gentlemen's agreement.
--
Arthur was not pleased. In fact, every single time Uther Pendragon came to mind, he wasn't pleased. Perhaps that was why it took more than a year to meet for the drink that they'd promised each other. And even now, Arthur didn't arrive without complaint.
He'd agreed to meet Uther downtown in one of those unassuming, but expensive coffee shop bars. Uther was sixty now, and Arthur was glad that he got over the fact that his old man wasn't immortal. Arthur was five minutes late to the meeting, but Uther was on time.
And the first words out of his father's mouth were, "you're late."
"Los Angeles rush hour," Arthur said, sounding ruder than he originally intended as he took a seat. "Why you didn't want to do business here, remember, Dad?"
Uther looked surprised, "You remember me telling you that?"
"Yeah, before I left for college," Arthur actually remembered a lot of things, he just didn't want to let Uther in on them.
His father looked decidedly unsettled, as if he didn't really remember telling Arthur anything like that.
They sat there in silence for a little while and drinks were plunked down in front of them. Arthur stared idly at the ice cubes floating atop his glass before he spoke again, "Why did you send Alex five hundred dollars?"
"Aren't all grandfathers supposed to spoil their grandsons?" Uther gave him a look that almost made Arthur wince. "I suppose you took it away."
Arthur refused to look at him, he took a slow sip from his glass. "He's allowed to ask me for it once he figures out how to spend it. I've told him that, after I advised him to save it in a bank." Some part of him was curious to see how Uther would have handled it, but Arthur refused to think about that too.
Uther took a sip from his glass, he seemed conflicted, as if he couldn't think of anything to say. He certainly wasn't very tactful and Arthur liked to think that he had some of his mother's tact.
"...You sent Gwen flowers."
"She told you?"
"I saw them," Arthur shook his head.
For a moment, Uther almost looked horrified, but it was the sort of dignified horror that only businessmen facing a tremendous lawsuit could manage. If anything, Arthur was almost proud of himself for putting that expression on his father's face.
Uther looked away, "I'm an old man, Arthur."
But Uther was young before, and just because he was old now didn't mean he wasn't responsible for the things that happened before. "And I'm not heartless, Dad, but I'm a far cry from a saint." (He'd known too many, after all, and wondered still how they managed.)
There was another silence, neither of them had the habit of talking much, especially to each other, but this was a start, they were sitting in fairly close proximity and not trying to strangle each other.
Uther ordered another drink, "how's business?"
"Good."
"I'm glad."
Talking on the phone was so much easier, they could say their awkward goodbyes and be done with it. In a bar with the bartender eavesdropping with half an ear because there was nothing to do.
Finally, Arthur stood up and called for the tab, he laid down enough to cover his father's drinks and turned.
"Leaving already?"
"Merlin will be ticked if I'm late for dinner," Arthur said. "I'll see you."
He left his father there, and Uther looked old, older than Arthur had ever seen him. He was his father's son, and maybe it was that, which compelled him to add, "Maybe you can spoil your grandson over dinner, soon." Not today.
And Uther agreed with him, it would probably take another hour to . They shook hands, almost like businessmen, and then Arthur left, feeling a strange warm spot deep in his chest.
"Bye, Dad."
"I'll see you, son."
--
For Alex's eighth birthday, he hadn't wanted a party, not because he didn't have enough friends to invite over for a party, and certainly not because he was having problems.
"Do you really want me to have a party that badly?"
Arthur looked up from his newspaper, "I don't know, don't eight-year-olds like parties? As long as you promise me that your friends won't break anything, we can throw it here."
"Or I can be one of those kids that really like sspending time with Dad," Alex said with a shrug, catching Merlin and Arthur off guard, but the boy promptly took Merlin's reaction the wrong way and quickly added, "And Merlin, of course."
So it was that little revelation and then some that led them to visit Gwen in the morning (sometimes, she could not remember Alex's name, but always remembered that he was important somehow,) and since it was a warm enough day, Arthur agreed to camping out in the yard.
"We should all share one sleeping bag," perhaps Alex was being a little far-reaching because he knew it was his birthday and he could get away with things.
"Alex, I seriously doubt that we can all fit in one sleeping bag," Merlin said, as Arthur tensed beside him. "And besides, your Dad is claustrophobic."
"I'm not claustrophobic, I just don't think crawling into the sleeping bag with three people is practical."
Merlin shook his head and let that little untruth slide.
Alex pouted, "But I'm eight! Next year I'll be too old to do these things because nine is only one away from ten and I forgot to ask you when I turned seven."
Arthur said, "No."
"Please?"
Merlin rubbed a slow hand up Arthur's spine, "Come on. You're only eight once, the last time we shared it wasn't so bad. There was lots of room."
"...Fine." But just so they didn't think he gave in so easily, Arthur made it a point to sound injured. Merlin made it a point not to notice and kissed him.
And instead of saying, "Ew, you promised not to do any of that icky stuff in front of me," Alex took the mature road (because he was eight) and beamed approvingly at them.
The sleeping bag ended up big enough and then some, Alex slept drooling slightly on Arthur's shoulder and Merlin watched them in the dark. Arthur's hand found his under the covers.
"...This, isn't so bad, is it, Arthur?"
Arthur smiled at him a shadowed half smile, contented. "Yeah...it's not bad at all."
~
End