Raspberry Bubble Gum

Bedtime Stories as Told by Arthur Pendragon (1/1)

raspberry_pop — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 20:49:07 GMT

banner by toodelicious

Title: Bedtime Stories as Told by Arthur Pendragon
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Paring: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: high-ish PG? I don't think it quite reaches the PG-13 mark.
Genres: Crack/sad attempt at humor/maybe fluff
Word Count: 2019
Summary: In which King Arthur tells his daughter the most, um, unusual of bedtime stories, one where the prince isn't allowed to marry and his wizard gets pregnant.
Notes: Prompt by toodelicious , who wanted girl!preg!Merlin, um...this is my attempt, none of these genres are up my alley. :) but I hope you like~

--

It was a long time before Arthur could really laugh about it, because it had been that ridiculous, in fact, there were many a times when it wasn't funny at all. In retrospect maybe he should have married and saved his wizard some pain. But then, if that was so...Arthur was in love with his wizard, and there was no harm in having a child with someone that you loved--even if his other half sacrificed his gender for nine months.

At first, the late King Uther had been furious, furious enough so that his face ran blood red, as if he had had more than his share of mead, he'd threatened multiple executions, he'd even threatened Arthur by mistake. Maybe one day, Uther would stop rolling around in his grave.

But now he had more pressing problems.

"Do you mean to tell me that you don't have a bedtime story this evening?" Eileen was seven years old and had the impudence to show for it (he'd have to lecture the staff about that).

"Ah..." said Arthur.

HIs conversation with Merlin had run something like this:

"I need you to put Eileen in bed tonight and tell her a story boring enough so she'll fall asleep halfway through."

"...Excuse me?"

"I promised Gaius I'd do something for him, and I forgot."

"You forgot?"

"Yes, Your Royal Prat of a Highness, I forgot."

"You...seem to have forgotten something else. You know, the fact that I have a kingdom to run and gave up my imagination?"

"You're being drastic again, you don't even need much of an imagination, just make it boring and she'll be asleep in no time."

"..."

"I promise I'll make it up to you."

"...Deal."

Merlin had better have something fantastic planned for tonight. Arthur heaved a private sigh inside his head, "What kind of stories does Merlin usually tell you?"

"I don't know."

"You...don't know?" Well, that was partially good news, very promising. Maybe Arthur would only have to suffer through a couple of minutes of this--whatever this was. He took a seat. "I've never told a story before."

She looked properly scandalized, "But Merlin said you were really good at telling stories!"

And Arthur was going to kill Merlin later. "Oh, did he say that?" His temple was already prickling. "I'm sure Merlin's just being modest." Clearing his throat, Arthur began:

"Well, once there was this princess, she was--"

Eileen coughed.

"What?"

"You're supposed to start every story with once upon a time," Eileen looked at him. "Don't you know anything?"

It was moment like these that Arthur finally understood some things about having a daughter. He understood that Uther didn't like to rile Morgana back in the day, this was why. "Well, fine. Once upon a time, there was a princess. She was from the mystical kingdom of Avalon, and because her father did something bad, she couldn't return to her country. In order to return to her country, she needed to sacrifice the heart of a noble prince.

"Now, she came to this country, and set about ensnaring the prince of that kingdom, the prince was very handsome, and the best swordsman in the land, The princess worked very hard, but she couldn't quite manage to--"

Eileen was coughing again.

"What?"

"You're not talking about yourself, are you?"

"What? No! Of course not," Arthur managed to scramble together a look of nonchalance when she stared at him again. "Anyway...do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?"

She fell silent.

"Well, anyway, try as she might, she finally succeeded, although the prince was just playing along, mostly. He wasn't really under any spell at all, it was a deal he'd worked out with his wizard, so that he could catch her in the act. But then something went horribly wrong, and the prince ended up saving the wizard instead, and there was this huge misunderstanding with the king.

"THe king threatened to execute everyone, including the prince, until the prince beseeched him so movingly that the king had a change of heart and decided to forgive him with the condition that the prince would never marry because women were too dangerous."

Eileen nibbled her lip, "I'm actually glad the king did that." She said solemnly.

Arthur stared at her, "Why?"

"Because," she sounded annoyed and (more importantly) wide awake. "This prince sounds like an utter prat, no one would want to marry him."

"Young lady! Who taught you to speak like that?" And then, realizing his mistake a second later, Arthur retracted. "...You shouldn't speak about others like that, Eileen."

"Who cares, they're just characters in a story."

And Arthur could not tell her otherwise. Why was she even awake still? "Do you want to hear the rest of it or not?"

"All right, all right, go on."

"A few years later, they realized that they had a big problem, even though the prince was very happy with his life sans marriage, the wizard, who usually didn't come up with good ideas, came up with a solution to the problem. The problem was that the prince couldn't continue the line when he couldn't have a child. The plan was really stupid now that I--I mean, the prince thought about it, but the wizard insisted.

"I still think the prince is a prat."

And this time, although he would have liked to do much more, King Arthur did a kingly thing and just shot her a baleful look. "Well, you're certainly entitled to your own very incorrect opinion. Shouldn't you be getting to sleep now?"

"You mustn't goad me, Father, the story just got terribly interesting!" Eileen plastered on the sweetest smile she could manage. "Please continue? I'll stop calling the prince a prat. Though really, I don't see why you're so offended."

Arthur pursed his lips. "Anyway..."

"Anyway, the wizard had the bright idea of concocting a potion so he turned into a girl to bear the prince's child so that the prince's bloodline would be safe. Then--"

"Wait, something doesn't make sense."

Arthur sighed, what didn't make sense, was why she was still awake. As far as he was concerned, he was telling a story so horrible that it was atrocious. "What doesn't make sense?"

"A lot of things! I mean, the prince can't be just all right with it, just turning into a girl is a big deal. Did the wizard even research all the logistics?"

Eileen was seven years old, why didn't she act like it? "For the record, it was the wizard's idea and the prince failed to make him see sense. Don't you think you ought to go to sleep? It's late at night. I'll make sure Merlin finishes the story tomorrow."

"But I want you to finish it now! Or else I"ll be dreadful," Eileen pouted. "Absolutely dreadful." She added threateningly, as if Arthur wasn't convinced already.

"Fine, all right," Arthur sighed a long sigh, this was panning out to be a long night. He didn't sign up for any of this, and Merlin was definitely paying for all this--

"Anyway, beforehand, the wizard researched all the logistics so that they knew what to expect, although there really wasn't any way to avert the morning sickness...and the wizard had the oddest craving for tomatoes, it wasn't fun for the prince at all.

"The wizard also had a thing for pink dresses, this new hobby disturbed the prince a lot--"

Eileen was glaring at him.

"What?"

"What's wrong with the color pink?"

Arthur suddenly had a horrible flash of Merlin, about six months pregnant in a pink gown, with his--her hands on her hips and pouting at him, "What exactly is wrong with the color pink, Your Majesty?"

At first, Arthur had chalked it up to the effects of the potion and how Merlin was reacting to it, after all, Merlin had never been a woman in his life and it was natural for him to have a few quirks, but to think he actually passed that on to their child--

Honestly, of all traits that Merlin could have passed on, he passed on to her the love of the color pink. Pink! Arthur opened his mouth to tell her that she sounded exactly like her mother, but then stopped just in time to remind himself that such a statement opened a whole new can of worms he really didn't want to deal with.

So he settled with, "Eileen, don't you think you're a little too old to like the color pink?"

And her reply was, "I"m seven, Father."

And it suddenly occurred to Arthur that the very story he was telling really wasn't really child-friendly.

"Right, well. Sometimes you can't grow up fast enough," Arthur muttered, more so to himself, "So after much trouble, the both of them had a beautiful little girl and the wizard turned back into a man and declared that he was never going to go through with something like this again. The prince gleefully said 'I told you so', and everything worked out beautifully. The end."

"You're supposed to end every story with 'happily ever after', Your Majesty. Don't you know anything?"

Arthur gulped, he hated it when Merlin made 'Your Majesty' sound like a death threat. Merlin was there, leaning against Eileen's doorway, looking not so amused.

"Merlin! Ah...how long have you been standing there?"

Merlin just looked at him, "Long enough to wholeheartedly agree with your very insightful daughter that the prince in your story is an utter prat. He sounds like someone I know."

"Um..."

Merlin smiled, showing Arthur all his teeth and then some. He stepped in the room and laid a hand on Eileen's head, "I hope your father didn't scar you too much. Do you mind if I borrow him?"

Eileen glanced at Merlin curiously, "Do you plan on returning him?"

"Of course I am, he'll be just slightly damaged, but I promise you won't know the difference."

"Oh, all right then, I guess that's fine." Eileen let Merlin smooth over her blankets, "Good night, Merlin."

"Good night," Merlin smiled fondly at her without baring his teeth, but when he turned to look at Arthur again, Arthur winced. "...Might we have a word outside, Arthur?" His voice was deceptively light.

Arthur disliked how that tone of voice made him think that he had a choice. He followed Merlin outside and knew looking at Merlin's face that he looked guilty. He decided that the best offense was the best defense.

"You should know better that I don't know how to tell stories, I told you that."

"And you should know that that's hardly what irks me," Merlin stared at him evenly, "Have you even been pregnant?"

"What? No, of course not!" Arthur looked scandalized. "I"m King!"

"And the next time you feel like having a child, I'm going to just do the kingdom a favor and have you carry it yourself. You might even learn a few things."

"Wait a minute--"

The next night found King Arthur back in his daughter's bedroom. Except this time, the story went like this:

"So once upon a time, there was a prince, he was a bit of a prat, because he liked to take things for granted. Sometimes, he whined, and sometimes he was utterly insensible. He had a wizard working for him, and this wizard was the most powerful in the land."

Merlin smiled at him over Eileen's head (and thank goodness it wasn't a teeth-baring smile). "This wizard was very wise, and though he thought that the prince was sometimes a prat, the prince was also at times, charming. One day, there came a fair maid from Avalon..."

End

Fanfiction Masterlist

raspberry_pop — Fri, 24 Jul 2009 00:12:02 GMT

Masterlist of Complete/Incomplete Fanfiction
(Just trying to keep organized ^o^)

Special Thanks to: anna_zee for beta work, eos_rose for the Snap Point Podfic, and toodelicious for the banner. (I'm a fail with html and codes get messed up under the cut o.o)

Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC

A Fortunate Fall

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.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

To a Wild Rose
Victorianesque—Arthur Pendragon, Marquess of Harington flees to his country estate for a well-deserved summer holiday. However, there is no rest for the weary, as Arthur finds out that his new stable boy Merlin, is socially inept but helplessly captivating, and that his mansion just might be haunted by a secret his father struggles to hide.

1 | 2 | 3

Snap Point | Snap Point Podfic
Mordred knows UST when he sees it. No matter how hard his cousin Arthur and his babysitter Merlin try to dance around the issue.

Destined
AJ Pendragon's real name is Arthur Jaromir Pendragon. But one calls him Arthur, except for his old man, and that one weird guy. Marlin, Merlin, whatever his name is. "Your name is Arthur Pendragon and you're destined to be with me."

Lacrimosa: A Prelude
Morgana has nightmares, Arthur offers small comforts.

Bedtime Stories as Told by Arthur Pendragon

In which King Arthur tells his daughter the most, um, unusual of bedtime stories, one where the prince isn't allowed to marry and his wizard gets pregnant.

A Fortunate Fall (18/18)

raspberry_pop — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 20:14:42 GMT

banner made by 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+fortunate+fall

--

"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

A Fortunate Fall (17/18)

raspberry_pop — Sun, 19 Jul 2009 05:30:30 GMT

banner made by toodelicious Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 6111
Progress: 17/18
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.

Previous Chapters found here: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/tag/a+fortunate+fall

--

Gwen's smile was as ever bright and cheerful as Arthur remembered. He felt his gut twist painfully, as if it threatened to snap into two without warning. "Well, it's very nice to meet you too, Arthur. Who are your friends?"

Reluctantly, Arthur let go of her hand, and jostled Alex to attention, just slightly. His son probably would have liked to have gone on hiding his face in Arthur's neck. "This is Alex--my--son," he barely caught himself before the wrong possessive slipped. "And Alex, this is..."

Alex looked at her, in his eyes was an emotion Arthur couldn't even begin to decipher because Arthur had always known his mother. This was practically the first time Alex was seeing his.

"Hi," Alex's voice wobbled just a little. "I know your name is Gwen, but can I call you by a special nickname? I really want to."

"Alex--" Arthur's grip tightened warningly, but Gwen shook her head at him.

"Kids will be kids, Arthur. I don't mind a silly nickname. What's the nickname, Alex?"

Alex swallowed hard, "...Can I...call you--Mommy?"

Gwen's face was puzzled, "But Alex, won't your real Mommy be mad if you called me that?"

Arthur had to avert his own eyes, and suddenly he was grateful for Merlin's hand on his elbow, a solid presence.

"I don't think my real Mommy would mind that much if...if you don't mind." Alex's eyes were big and hopeful.

"I don't really mind at all, you can call me Mommy if you want." Gwen held out her hands, "But if you want to call me Mommy, at least look at me. Don't be so shy, Alex."

His son looked at him, his eyes were almost wet, and Arthur wondered if he was looking at a mirror. "You can put me down, Dad."

Alex was brave, brave enough to hold his sobs in until he could hide his face in Gwen's shoulder. She held him and kissed his cheek. "...Is he always this emotional, Arthur?"

Merlin squeezed his elbow, and somehow Arthur managed to find his voice again. "I think...I think you just caught him on a bad day, sorry about that."

"I see." Gwen said, and turned her eyes on Merlin. "And...who's this?"

Arthur said, "Erm, this is Merlin. He's--"

"Just a friend." Merlin finished for him a little too quickly and a little too brightly, "here for moral support. But it seems that Arthur and Alex are holding fine on their own, I'll...I'll get out of your hair."

Merlin was leaving, in a panic, Arthur seized his arm. "Don't leave."

"Just...I'm just going to go downstairs and get some coffee. I saw a coffee machine down there." Merlin's tone didn't entirely reassure him, but he smiled, and gestured to Alex, who was still clinging onto Gwen. "And I'll take Alex with me, so that the two of you can have some privacy."

"But I don't want to leave Mommy," Alex mumbled.

Gwen said, "How about we make a deal? If you let your father have some alone time with me, I'll draw a picture for you, and we'll talk, okay?"

"...Okay," Alex drew back reluctantly. He hopped off of Gwen's lap and held his hand out to Merlin, who seemed very surprised.

Merlin said, "Come on, Alex."

Arthur watched as they left, and Gwen gestured to him after the door had closed. "Won't you sit down, Arthur? You standing there and fidgeting makes me nervous."

He sat, awkwardly in a kitchen chair. Arthur had done this for three years, three times each year, and it never got easier. But usually he came alone, forced himself to have at least fifteen minutes of easy, interesting conversation with her...and then--

Every year she had forgotten. Sometimes, once or twice she remembered, but this year, things had to be different.

"Gwen--"

She held out a hand, "...The physicians here say I have a good chance of recovering, Arthur, if I be careful. They think it's trauma that's kept me from remembering, but they say I'm mostly relaxed now so..." Gwen bit her lip, the way she always did when something displeased her. "Arthur, I'm someone important to you, aren't I?"

Arthur's throat was dry and his tongue was numb, he really wished that Merlin hadn't left...if for no other reason than to save him from this confrontation. "Yes," he said shortly with a nod. "You are. May I tell you a story?"

"All right."

"Once upon a time," Arthur was suddenly reminded of those horrible bedtime stories that he had read Alex before Morgana had demanded that his son's bookshelf needed a desperate makeover. "There was a boy and a girl."

"They were in love?" She smiled at him.

"But helplessly misfortunate," Arthur sighed. "How'd you know?"

Her hand settled casually over his, "Most stories usually are this way, don't you know?"

"I guess I would, if I was a reader of that particular genre." Arthur said, trying not to think too much about how it felt to touch her...that part hadn't changed, either. "But I only know one story."

"And it sounds promising," Gwen nodded encouragingly. "Go on, Arthur."

"Well...the boy's father, he was something like a bastard and didn't approve." For his own safety, Arthur looked away as he spoke. "The boy didn't care, the boy was somewhat stupid. And they married." Here, his voice faltered a little. "The girl looked beautiful on her wedding day, but she almost fainted from the heat."

Gwen's fingers tightened around his hand.

"The boy--the boy promised the girl that he was going to make her happy, and that they were going to be happy for the rest of their lives. They had a son, and he was...the best boy anyone could hope for, but he never knew his mother."

"What happened to his mother?"

There was a long, long silence after that, and Arthur swallowed. He wished desperately for some water, some distraction, and he had neither, since Gwen was still staring at him intently from across the table.

"Arthur?"

Steeling himself, Arthur began again, "The girl was miserable. She was miserable because the boy promised her that she'd live like a princess. But even in her castle, the boy's father was intent on doing everything that he could to separate them. So one day..."

She pitied him, Arthur could see it in her eyes, even if she wasn't exactly the Gwen he had known for so long. "Would you like some water? I'll get some for you."

"Oh, thanks, water would be great..." Arthur hastily took note of her wheelchair, "actually, I'll get it myself." He almost stumbled over his chair when he stood up, but when Gwen fixed him with a hard look that reminded him of the first time they'd met, when she'd thrown punch in his face.

"Arthur, I may be in a wheelchair, but I'm not helpless." Her tone was bland, but firm, as she pushed away from the table and wheeled herself over to the sink, where she leaned forward to open a cabinet. Fetching a cup, and then filling it with water from the purified tap--as she somehow managed to reach up there.

Gwen saw him looking. "...Physical therapy helps with these things, but they assure me that I will never walk again."

And it's all my fault. Arthur thought, sounding properly miserable in his head. "...Thanks."

"Not a problem at all. Go on with your story."

He took a long sip from the cup, and took even longer to swallow. "So one day, she threw herself over the cliffs, after a particularly harsh fight with the boy's father. He said--he said all sorts of bad things, and the boy never forgave himself. He had his father disown him."

Gwen's face was creased with worry. "...Arthur, what happened to the girl?"

Arthur took another drink of water for courage, but water didn't exactly work like alcohol. It wasn't quite near as wondrous. "I told you, she threw herself over a cliff."

"I meant after."

Arthur looked away, "...I don't remember."

There was a terrible silence; it was long enough for Arthur to swear that the minute hand on his watch crawled, and Gwen looked down at the table. It could have been fifteen minutes, could have been thirty.

Her hands were shaking. Arthur stood up from his seat, and put his arms around her, she stiffened, but didn't tell him to let go.

"It's going to take ages to remember everything," her voice was muffled. "Even so...the next time you come here, I won't remember you. That's happened every time, hasn't it?"

He didn't answer.

"We were married?"

"...We, erm," Arthur never imagined it to be this awkward, and he had been imagining this conversation for three whole years. "Technically, we still are. We aren't divorced...or anything."

She'd found his ring, and traced a finger over the broad gold band. "What happened to my wedding ring?"

"They...they never found it." They'd never even looked properly for it either, considering that Gwen had been critical when Arthur'd found her. Her missing wedding ring wasn't something he had worried too much about. "It was lost...in the accident. My father--" his words sounded not unlike water from a broken faucet, unsteady, uncertain. "He shouldn't have done it."

"...Were we ever happy?" Her next question cut him off.

"For the first few years, we were very happy. You were...very patient with Alex, even when he whined and wouldn't sleep."

"But I don't remember any of it. I don't even remember meeting you. I barely remember my name. All these things you're telling me--it sounds like you're talking about someone else." She said, "In all honesty, I don't think I'll ever be the same woman you married again."

"Gwen, what are you saying?" Arthur felt panic starting to squeeze his chest again.

"I mean, it's not fair to you. I don't remember anything. And...the guy that came with you, Merlin. He's not just any friend, is he?"

And now she was going to lecture him for liking men, actually, it wasn't even men, it was just Merlin. That part of Gwen hadn't changed, she viewed marriage as a staunch moral principle. "Merlin is important to me." The closest to the truth he could manage.

"Is it fair to him that I'm important to you?" Gwen shrugged his arms away and turned to look at him. "You might love me, Arthur. And I loved you, but I don't remember any of those things. And it's not fair. I don't love you now."

The words hurt, but she'd said them so plaintively that Arthur knew she was telling him the truth. Gwen took his hand and slid the wedding ring carefully off of his finger.

"The doctors said that your memory might come back! You've only regressed, and you'll remember if you don't stress out." Arthur felt his throat close again.

"Arthur, if I've loved you as much as you think in the past...wouldn't I do this?" she put her arms around him again and pulled him close. She planted a soft kiss on his mouth. "I think I would have done it. Divorce me, and just remember how I was. Merlin's a good guy. I'm sure I don't have to worry that much."

"...How'd you know that? You don't even know him."

"Women's intuition, it's one of the things you hate most in the world, probably." Gwen smiled, and showed him his ring in her palm. "Can I...keep this?" it fit loosely on her pointer finger. "I can be happy here, Arthur."

It was, and Arthur nodded, unsure of the emotions that were spinning around him in vivid colors, but sure that this newfound sense of freedom and relief...was something only the Gwen he once knew,could have had the heart to give him.

"Merlin, please say something?" Alex nudged at him, "please, please, please say something? You're scaring me."

Alex's voice sounded distant, as if it was over a wall of thick fog. All Merlin could really do was dumbly at his coffee cup. It had golden embroidery carved into porcelain. Arthur was up there now, this very moment, talking with Gwen, his wife.

Arthur had a wife. And it was certainly none of Merlin's business. Now more than ever, he felt like their relationship was forever certain to be doomed. It didn't matter how much progress they'd made, how saintly patient Merlin had been. None of that mattered.

"Merlin," Alex landed a good jab between his ribs--Merlin winced. "Are you even listening to me?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I've been trying to talk to you for the last hour and a half!" Alex looked superbly wounded as he crossed his arms. "Stop ignoring me!"

Merlin said, "Sorry, sorry, I'm just distracted. What's wrong now?"

The boy fixed him with a severe look. "I'm talking to you!"

He looked down at his cup, and then up at Alex again. "What did you say?"

Alex threw up his hands in despair, "You haven't been listening to me at all, I asked if you were okay. Are you okay?"

In all honesty, no, Merlin was not. He just didn't know how to tell that gently and truthfully to a six-year-old kid who looked up to him. "Alex, yeah, I'm okay."

"Li-ar," Alex said the word like it was filthy. Arthur probably taught him that it was.

"Alex...they're your parents. They have a right to do what they want to."

"We're not talking about that right now! We're talking about how you feel!"

Merlin said, "Alex, I don't feel anything." There was only so many ways one could describe numbness.

Hesitantly, Alex touched his shoulder, "I like my Mommy. But I also like you a lot. Don't forget that, okay?"

If only it was so simple. And probably, in Alex's six-year-old mind (as precocious as it was--) it was. The boy was quite certain that he had enough affections to go around all ways. For Arthur, who obviously had history with this woman, wouldn't take things so lightly.

"Alex..." and the Merlin simply nodded his head. "All right, I promise I won't forget."

The boy smiled a golden smile that brightened his face like sunlight. Merlin felt an unexpectedly bitter lump form in his throat and after a couple of tries, he swallowed it back down before Arthur appeared out of one of the elevators, alone.

Merlin refused to look at him because he didn't want to know what Arthur looked like after having a talk with his wife. He didn't want to think about how guilty it made him feel.

"...Merlin, Gwen wants to talk to you." Arthur said.

Gwen wanted to talk to him. What did that even mean? But Merlin rose to his feet, feeling the anxiousness in his chest weigh him down. "You'll be coming with me?"

"She wants to see you alone."

Merlin wondered when it was, that he started being afraid of a woman confined to a wheelchair. It was not the same way that Morgana unsettled him, but-- "Oh, okay."

"Merlin."

When he whirled around, Merlin knew his eyes, at least--if not his entire face, looked guilty. Arthur simply gestured to the cup he still held in his hands.

"Coffee?"

"Right, um." Merlin handed the cup over, "here."

And he fled. The elevator ride up took exactly ten seconds, but it seemed to Merlin over in a blink. Gwen's door was open, and she was waiting for him, settled on the couch with her wheelchair nearby.

"Merlin," her smile was bright. "Come in, could you please close the door?"

He did, and they stared at each other for a long time. Her smile seemed genuine, and her face was open. She was not like Sophia at all.

"Is there something on my face, Merlin? Ink, maybe?"

"...No." Merlin shook his head quickly after he realized that she indeed had spoken, and he hastily fumbled for a seat and ended up in an armchair. "I mean, I just thought..." maybe it was better to come straight out and say it. "I didn't expect Arthur's wife...to be like this."

"Not everyone can be glamorous, you know." She offered him a faint shrug. "I can't believe that he says we're married."

"You are," the words tasted like bile in Merlin's mouth, but he forced them out anyway. None of this was Gwen's fault, she was the victim, she too, had suffered, although she didn't seem to remember any of it. "And Arthur...loves you very much." She needed to know.

Gwen tilted her head, "Arthur loved someone I don't remember. The doctors say that it was a miracle that I'm still able to talk and think the way I do. They also say that, with the proper treatment, I should be able to regain most of my memory."

"Good for you." Merlin said.

She just looked at him, so serenely still that Merlin started to fidget. He cast his eyes downwards and realized that Gwen's hands were folded neatly in her lap, one atop the other...and she had on Arthur's ring. He hadn't bothered to look at Arthur's hands downstairs.

"You've--"

Holding up her hand, she studied the ring with renewed curiosity, as if she had never seen it before. "If my memory does come back, I'll have to remember a lot of things, a lot of painful things that I know Arthur would rather me not remember. And he'll expect things from me, things from before. It's not fair to me, and it's not fair to him, and it's certainly not fair...to you."

His first thought was to be noble and deny everything, but when Merlin opened his mouth to protest, Gwen was shaking her head at him again.

"He looks at you that way. Or are you ashamed of it?"

"I..." Merlin suddenly felt very stupid. "I just--but the two of you are married, I can't just..." He had, and it had been almost a whole year now, just a few months shy. But facing it like this was something different altogether.

"Arthur has orders to serve me divorce papers when he can come up with them," Gwen splayed her fingers, showing Arthur's ring on her finger, "Today was our seventh wedding anniversary, he told me. I don't deny what happened, and I certainly don't deny that I've been Arthur Pendragon's wife. But I'm not what he needs right now."

Merlin looked down at his lap, thoroughly numb.

"We live in a world that doesn't wait for anything, and if I'm as kind and reasonable as he tells me I am, I have no right to expect him to wait for me. He says that you're good for him, you nag, and he doesn't deserve you."

Arthur...actually said that about him? "He..did he really say that?" Merlin asked dumbly.

"And he said that you had the patience of a saint, even when he dated another woman to get people off his back, you stayed." Gwen shook her head. "I honestly don't know if I would have been that...forgiving."

Merlin's head spun, but for once, it wasn't an unpleasant feeling. He shrugged, "I guess, I just try my best."

She held out her hand for his, and Merlin noted that her hands were strong hands. Guinevere Pendragon was a strong woman, even without her memories, she'd discovered herself again. "In this case, Merlin, please trust me when I say that your best surpasses mine. Could you do something for me?"

"Anything."

"The both of you deserve to be happy, even if I didn't get to live the sort of life that Arthur promised me." She gave his hand a warm squeeze and let go. "I just want you both to remember."

This was the sort of day that Uther Pendragon had been waiting for, Arthur thought almost bitterly. The day that his good-for-nothing son divorced his good-for-nothing wife so that he could finally marry a respectable girl with some clout to her name and some money in her pocket so that Arthur could finally be worth something.

He thought that Uther would have rolled over in his grave--if he'd been dead. But his father was alive, and well, and happily paying his debts to society. Arthur still didn't know how he felt about that. But the day had come, seven years too late, and he certainly hadn't emerged unscathed from it.

Things had been perfect then, and if only, if only, had Arthur the courage to protect it.

But now, Gwen had selflessly given him another chance. A chance he didn't deserve to have, but a chance she gave him anyway. And if he didn't deserve such a chance, maybe she thought Merlin, at the very least, deserved a fair trial.

Coming here had been hard for Merlin, Arthur knew that, despite all of his own distractions. The shadows that plagued Merlin's face and the effort that he put his smile, those were all signs.

Alex sat in the chair next to him, mirroring his slump as he stared hard at his hands. Arthur reached over and put an arm around his shoulders. "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm okay," Alex managed after a belated break. "But..I don't think Merlin is." His face was creased with worry and he looked old. "He's going to be fine, right, Dad?"

Arthur wondered who deemed it so that fathers must have all the difficult answers to difficult questions that their sons might have. And he decided that it was not fair. But before he could think of an answer for Alex, the elevator opened and Merlin appeared.

Arthur watched him warily, and when Merlin came to a stop in front of him, touched his hand--Arthur almost winced. But Merlin only smiled. "Can we go for a walk?"

Alex prompted helpfully, "By yourselves?"

"Well, yeah," Merlin nodded towards the elevator. "Your mother wants to see you."

Alex was gone like a bullet, and Arthur rubbed his temple with a free hand, the one that Merlin wasn't holding. "...I find it so not fair that both of you have a way with him."

"You're whining?"

"Yeah." Arthur set his chin.

Merlin ran a finger over where his wedding band used to be, and Arthur's breath hitched. Merlin's voice was not completely steady either, when he said: "Arthur, you prat."

Since there was no one on the road, Arthur took his hand. Merlin knew that Arthur would always be a bit hesitant when it came to showing affection, and it was something he was just going to have to live with. It was not impossible, and if anything...it made the moments that Arthur did show affection more meaningful.

"Arthur, you have a penchant for seducing saints. It's a bad habit and you should grow out of it."

"Saints are helplessly attracted to me, I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur sounded properly injured.

Merlin swatted him on the arm, and serving penance, Arthur let him and put on a heroic face about it.

There was a companionable silence.

Arthur finally ventured, "...I'll get the divorce papers sometime this week."

Gwen wanted it. And now Arthur wanted it too. So why did Merlin's stomach twist and coil painfully like a snake had bitten him on the inside? Part of him knew why, he had broken up something sacred...thanks to emotions beyond his control.

"Arthur, I know that's what she said," Merlin said. "But you don't...if you're not comfortable, I mean..."

"You can't be comfortable with me staying married." Arthur looked at him.

"I know, but--" Merlin cut himself off abruptly. His reasoning sounded silly, and it really was the best for him, for all of them if Arthur and Gwen got divorced, but still. They were getting divorced because of him. It was all Merlin's fault.

Arthur fixed him with a narrow gaze. "If you're going to say something that's along the lines of 'I'm just thinking of you', I swear you're the most idiotic person I know.

"Merlin, maybe you've always put other people first, and you don't know how to be selfish. Take a lesson from me, a certified prat. Just let me get divorced, and we can be happy. Don't you want that?"

Merlin registered that Arthur was holding him by the shoulders, and he stood much too close, considering the fact that they were on a public road in plain sight for all to see. "Arthur...the last thing I want--"

"I don't want to hear about the last thing you want," Arthur interrupted, eyes flashing almost dangerously. "What's the first thing you want, Merlin? Saints have to be human too, sometime."

Letting out a shaky breath, Merlin leaned forward and put his head on Arthur's shoulder. When Arthur did not stop him, he took a deep breath and spoke into Arthur's ear, because Merlin could not trust himself to be coherent if he spoke any louder.

"Did you honestly tell you wife that I nagged and played mother hen with you and that you didn't deserve me?"

Arthur flinched, or so Merlin thought...or maybe it might have been the wind.

"I also said...that you were one of the best things that could have happened to me, and that you were a colossally stupid git for not realizing it. Then she told me that I was an equally colossally stupid git for not telling you."

Merlin's eyes watered, he hadn't cried in front of Arthur yet, and even though he was so very determined to keep it that way, it didn't seem possible. But then it didn't seem to matter when Arthur guided his face over a few careful inches and laid a kiss on his lips that was warm like a rose petal.

Arthur was sort of in a daze when they made their way back to the Center, arm in arm now and wearing identically stupid grins. An old lady in a walker accompanied by a nurse paused to stare. The Arthur Pendragon of yesterday, or even of a few hours before, would have cared. Now he didn't, not really.

Merlin only let go of him when they were inside the center. And the first thing Arthur noticed was the big basket of flowers on the receptionist's counter, she saw him looking and smiled at him. "i told you Gwen was popular, didn't I?"

"These are for her?" Arthur walked to the counter and examined the basket carefully.

"It was delivered just a few minutes ago, my understanding is that this basket traveled long and hard to get to where it is." She plucked the white card from its place and waved it in his face.

"See?"

The card bore a faint logo, but it was a logo that Arthur would have recognized anywhere. In silky, imprinted letters, it said: Roses for Laurene. LONDON.

Roses for Laurene was his mother's favorite flower shop, and whenever his father was feeling generous, the flowers always came from Roses for Laurene. With a strange sense of foreboding, he flipped open the card and stared at it for a long, long moment.

Happy Anniversary, Guinevere.

Respectfully, Uther Pendragon.

Reading Uther's name reminded Arthur that he was still ticked at Kaye for arranging the payoffs without telling him; he hadn't even known Kaye had that much authority. But then again, maybe he asked for it by signing that stupid form he'd barely glossed over. This was what he got for trusting people.

And never once in seven years, had Uther Pendragon been this sentimental towards his crippled daughter-in-law.

"What?" asked Merlin.

Arthur put the card back before he could think about it too much. "My old man is horrible at groveling."

"At least he is...groveling."

True that. But Arthur was just not going to think about it, unforgiveness was safe, and he didn't need Uther Pendragon; he stood well enough on his own.

Alex appeared out of the elevators and immediately launched himself at Arthur. Glad for the distraction, Arthur swooped him up.

"The nurse said that visiting hours are over," Alex told him. "Lookit what Mommy drew me."

The paper tickled Arthur's nose when Alex thwacked him with it, but Merlin took the sheet from him and unfolded it carefully.

It was a pencil sketch of Alex, staring at the bouquet of flowers that Arthur had brought her. He wore a little private smile, as if he knew secrets. At the bottom of the page, there was a flurry of a signature, and--

To Alex, with much love, from Mommy.

"No girls living here until you can actually commit yourself to a healthy relationship," Merlin said, staring at his side of the room, it was empty, save for the bed.

Mordred stood looking at him, not speaking for a long minute. "I'm kind of scared of how you define a 'healthy' relationship'."

"Oh, shut up." Merlin weighed the tattered bag in his hand that held his last few possessions in the apartment. "I just worry about you."

Mordred opened his mouth and closed it again. "After sharing a room with you for like, ever, it's going to be weird." Lowering his voice conspiringly, he added, "Matthew's going to drive me nuts!"

Merlin had to smile at him, "Matthew's driven me nuts for years, your turn now."

"Gee, thanks, I love you too. Don't blame me if your apartment burned down the next time you visit. You...you will visit, right?"

"Yeah, I'll try to walk in on you as often as possible," Merlin clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll hate me, I assure you."

Mordred clapped him somewhat awkwardly on the shoulder and drew him close, it was almost a hug but not quite. "You could try, I might be more shameless than you gave me credit for."

"Don't even get me started." Merlin turned towards the door.

"And I still don't know how the laundry machine works, don't be a stranger, yeah?" Mordred called after him. "Arthur better take care of you, or I swear I'll take up karate and kick his ass."

Alex had framed Gwen's sketch and it hung proudly on his wall right beside his Most Creative Award. He spent long moments looking at it, and Arthur did too, but neither of them spoke very much about it. But as Arthur tucked him in, Alex looked at him with sleepy eyes.

"...Dad?"

"Hm?"

"D'you think Mommy will ever remember me?"

Arthur wondered why Alex always had to ask the most difficult questions at the most inopportune times. "I don't know." And he told the truth, the divorced papers that he had sent over were mailed back signed, but even her signature had changed.

The answer couldn't have satisfied Alex, but he turned his face to the wall. "Where's Merlin?"

"He went to his apartment to pick up some things."

"Will you tell him to come up and tell me good night when he comes back?"

"Sure, I'll do that," Arthur smoothed one hand over his son's forehead and left the room. He stood outside for a long time afterwards, maybe he was reading too much into it, as always. Alex would start the second grade tomorrow, and perhaps it was only natural that he'd think of all the mothers that would be there.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice. Arthur had made him a key, and the first few times, Merlin had hesitated in using it, but he had been quick to adjust when Arthur gave him the key to the other car. "Where are you?"

"Up here." Arthur leaned on the railing and smiled as Merlin looked up. It was all a little too domestic for his liking, but Merlin always made him forget. "Did you get the rest of your stuff?"

Merlin nodded, "Yeah, I did, but my brother still expects me to do laundry for him."

Arthur drew him in and kissed him, "You'll be much too busy doing my laundry, trust me." but he pulled back and looked towards Alex's door. "He wants you to go in and tell him good night...I think he's nervous about starting school tomorrow."

"Okay, then I'll just be a minute."

Merlin disappeared inside Alex's room, Arthur hated to admit it, but he was almost jealous of the way that playing mother hen came so naturally to Merlin. Maybe because he took his mother's face, he was doomed with Uther's mannerisms. Uther wasn't good at sentiments at all. Business was business, but Uther''s private life (the last time Arthur had even bothered to check) was a mess, and it would seem that Arthur's own personal affairs were more or less heading in that direction...although things did sort of look promising.

He also hated admit it, but Uther Pendragon was never far from his mind now, and as Arthur settled in the chair in his study, there was definitely no reason for him to think--

But then again, there was no reason for Uther to send Gwen flowers from London, either. It didn't make any sense. At all.

"Oh, Arthur, if you think this hard all the time, I swear all the wrinkles are going to become permanent."

"Merlin--" It took Arthur a moment to realize that Merlin was quite comfortable where he was in Arthur's lap. "Jesus, you scared me."

"You think too hard. Alex's picked up that bad habit." Merlin's lips smoothed gently over his forehead. "What's wrong?"

"Excuse me," Arthur didn't have to try too hard to sound genuinely miffed, he was already half way there. But then he quieted down and let Merlin play with his hair. "I was just...wondering if I should."

"Do what?"

Arthur sighed, "Call up my old man, see if we could have a drink sometime if he's not busy."

Merlin didn't speak for a long time, but he nodded. "Yeah, I think you should. Isn't it early over there though?"

"If my father hasn't changed, he's up and about at four AM." Arthur reached for his cell, and then paused again. "He's probably ticked at me."

"Arthur, if you keep saying that, you'll never call him," Merlin gave him a stern look. "He can't hurt you over the telephone."

But this was Uther Pendragon, he usually found the way to break the rules. Though Merlin had a point, if Arthur kept shielding himself behind excuses, he'd never get anywhere. He dialed the number.

It rang, and then it rang again, again, again. Arthur was about to hang up when the other line clicked.

"Hello?"

Uther's voice, sort of blurry and unguarded. But still, it made Arthur nervous, Merlin stared intently at him and nodded. "...Hey, Dad. It's me, Arthur."

There was a long, almost threatening silence on the other end, maybe Uther thought he was an impostor. It was understandable, considering they hadn't spoken on the phone in years.

"Arthur? What a pleasant surprise." Maybe it was just Arthur's imagination, but Uther sounded hopeful, or something close to it, anyway. "What can I do for you?"

And somehow, he remembered to breathe, it helped somewhat that he had Merlin close by and Uther far away, but still. Arthur couldn't quite bring himself to say thank you, and he also wanted this conversation to be over as soon as possible. "I was wondering when you'll be come to LA again. That's all."

"I'm not doing that much flying nowadays, I'm training a few interns, but most of them are helplessly stupid."

Arthur was determined to ignore the implications for now. "When you do fly over, we should go out for a drink."

Uther was silent. So shocked, maybe, that Arthur couldn't even hear him breathing.

Then: "I think that could be arranged, Arthur."

"Good."

There was an awkward silence. Interestingly, it was more awkward over the telephone than talking face to face. Uther said, "I have to go to work."

His father was lying, or perhaps he wasn't, but Uther was crazy if he was showing at his office at seven AM every morning. Arthur didn't know how he stood it. But he wanted to get off the phone, so he said, "Have a good day at work."

And that was that. It was not the reconciliation that Arthur knew his mother would have wanted them to have, but at least it was a step forward.

A Fortunate Fall (16/18)

raspberry_pop — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 18:49:05 GMT

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Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 6703
Progress: 16/18
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.

Previous Chapters found here: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/tag/a+fortunate+fall

--

Merlin's farmhouse was not at all what Arthur expected, but to say the least, he was pleasantly surprised. It was small, but it had some form of air conditioning and he had his own space in the den. Merlin's family was not what he expected either--Hunith was a vibrant woman still capable of doing farm work, and Mordred seemed calmer when he was around positive influences.

He hadn't expected things to change right away, and he certainly hadn't expected it to be easy; goodness knows he had chased Merlin away too many times, it was only natural for Merlin to be wary of his intentions. Well, that didn't seem to be quite right, either, since Arthur's intentions were always good...the routes he took to carry out those intentions though--were a different story entirely. He knew that now.

"You have everything you need, Arthur?" Hunith paused on her way out and looked back at him. "It does get stuffy down here from time to time, so feel free to crack open a window."

Arthur nodded, "all right."

She looked at him for a long moment after that, "...Arthur, it may not be right for me to say this...but, Merlin is my son. And he's always suffering disappointments."

Maybe if Igraine had lived, Arthur's mother would have said the same to his potential other half. But then...perhaps it wouldn't have made any difference.

"I know," And he did know, because Arthur had offered Merlin plenty of those disappointments himself.

Hunith looked relieved at his answer, or so Arthur thought. She smiled faintly at him, "...Well, good night, then."

"I want you to know, Merlin," Mordred began as he climbed into his cot a couple of nights later, "that if you end up sneaking downstairs into the den to be with your boyfriend, I wholly approve and if you happen to wake up and hear me laughing, I'm certainly not laughing. It's most likely just your imagination."

Merlin stared determinedly at the wall, trying to warn away the blush that threatened to creep up on him. "I would hate for you to follow in my shameless footsteps, if you catch my drift."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Merlin coughed into his elbow, "Right."

"What's with you?"

"Nothing's with me, and this is starting to sound awfully repetitive," Merlin half glared at him, turning around just a little. "Why can't you just go to sleep and mind your own business for once in your life?"

"We're practically the same person," Mordred rolled his eyes, "Granted, opposite sides of the same person, but still. Aren't you happy Arthur's here?"

Being opposite sides of the same person as Mordred did not sound very good either. "I'm worried about Alex," Merlin mumbled to the ceiling. Over the past few days, he and Arthur had been very cordial and--safe. He liked it safe, and of course it didn't bother him that Arthur seemed to agree with him.

"Your boyfriend's here and you're worried about his kid? Someone needs to set your priorities straight."

Merlin shot him yet another dry look, "I refuse to be a horny, unreasonable teenage boy about this," he turned to the wall. "Night, Mordred."

It was no surprise that Merlin wanted to stay cordial. Arthur didn't exactly blame him for it, if it anything, Arthur had solely brought the fate upon himself. He certainly didn't have anyone to blame for it.

"Hey, Dad!" For ten pm, Alex sounded unbelievably chipper. Morgana had probably given him more than his fair share of chocolate milk and marshmallows again. "What does Merlin's house look like? Did you take pictures?"

Arthur didn't even bring a camera (but Alex didn't need to know that, Arthur cleared his throat. "Alex, this is Merlin's house, it's not an amusement park."

"You are going to bring him back with you, right?"

"Well," Actually, Arthur wasn't so sure about that as he had been, when he had threw Alex in the car a few days ago and drove over to Morgana's house, winning his sister over with such an impassioned plea that she threatened to shove aspirin down his throat. "...I'm working on it."

And thus far, he wasn't very successful, "...How're you? And Aunt Morgana."

Alex's voice dropped a few noticeable notches, "I think Aunt Morgana might be pregnant!"

Morgana? "...Alex," Arthur chose his words carefully as he laid back against the couch, "Saying that someone's pregnant is a big deal. Are you sure?"

"Doesn't pregnant mean that you're going to have a baby?" Alex was undeterred by his lack of a reaction. "Aunt Morgana says that she's going to have one, I'm going to the doctor's with her tomorrow! Can I talk to Merlin now?"

"Actually, you should be getting ready for bed, shouldn't you?" Arthur said, "I don't even know where Merlin is right now."

As predicted, Alex's voice rose a few notches. "But I want to talk to Merlin before I go to bed!"

"And Alex, I'm telling you--"

There was a brief hollow knock, Arthur snapped up his head to find Merlin studying him with his head tilted. "I'm right here if you want me."

Arthur quickly cleared his throat again, "Actually um..." taking the phone away from his ear for the moment, he stood. "It's Alex, I think he's going to throw a tantrum if he can't talk to you."

Merlin held out his hand for Arthur's phone with a casual shrug, "I'll talk to him."

Arthur handed the phone over and sat back down on the sofa, Merlin joined him and somehow, Merlin's head ended up on his lap. "Hey, Alex! Isn't it late over there?...Oh, I see, so you're in the bathroom so Aunt Morgana thinks you're taking a bath?"

Arthur stared very hard at the phone.

"But Alex, if she hears you talking to yourself in the bathroom, isn't she going to think that you're kind of crazy?...I know, I know you're not crazy. Do you miss your dad?"

When Arthur stiffened, Merlin surprisingly followed suit, "...Alex, you can't say that, okay? Never say that. Of course I miss you. All right, you get to tell me one more thing before you promise me that you'll go to bed, okay?

"...Aunt Morgana's what?" Merlin took a moment to collect himself. "Are you sure? Well, okay. Be a big boy and take care of her? Yeah, okay, I'll do that. Good night, Alex." A moment after that, he handed the phone back to Arthur. "You've got a very resourceful son, if I haven't mentioned it before," Merlin remarked mildly. "Is Morgana pregnant?"

Arthur looked down at him, "That's what Alex said," a six-year-old wasn't the most reliable source when it came to these matters. "I'll call Morgana tomorrow and ask her."

In turn, Merlin tilted his head, "Do you not want your sister pregnant?"

"It's not that...it's just I never thought she would," Arthur shrugged.

"Maybe Alex grew on her," Merlin smiled at him winningly. "He does that, must have gotten it from his old man."

"I'm not old." Arthur said, taking great care to sound more offended than he actually was.

Merlin just smiled at him.

It was a little while later, after the clock chimed midnight, when Merlin spoke. "So where do we go from here, Arthur?"

Arthur paused, "Am I supposed to have an answer for that? You ask a lot."

Merlin braced himself with his elbows and stood up, taking one step, and then another, away from the couch. If anything, it was Arthur that asked a lot, but perhaps it was because everyone had always asked a lot of him, and he had never learned how to ask for any less. "I'd hoped you know...you came looking for me."

This time, Arthur said nothing.

Another step, Merlin sighed. It was a lot easier looking at the wall rather than Arthur. "I'm tired of going in circles," he said carefully. "I can't always leave, and you can't always come charging in like a knight in shining armor. Sooner or later, we'll get tired, this is not how things are supposed to work." And Merlin was already tired.

There was a long pause, "What do you want me to do, Merlin?"

What was Arthur willing to do, that was the real question. One that Merlin didn't have enough courage to ask yet. He shrugged one shoulder, "I don't know."

"Well, think about it while you sit down," Arthur patted the worn cushion beside him invitingly. "You standing there really makes me nervous."

"Me? Make you nervous?" Merlin raised an eyebrow.

Arthur tugged at his arm until Merlin gave up and sat, "Not usually, just when you sound so ominous."

Merlin bit his lip, "Well, I'd hate to sound ominous, but I'm serious." When it really came down to it, his relationship with Arthur wasn't all that healthy to begin with.

"What do you want me to do?" Arthur asked again, after the thick silence stretched and broke itself--shattered.

Merlin sucked in a deep breath, "What are you willing to do?"

"What kind of question is that?" At once, Arthur's shoulders tensed.

"It's just a question," Merlin stared hard at the ceiling as he spoke. A hard question, and one that would play a vital role in deciding whether or not he would stay, whether or not Arthur would stay.

"...I can't promise you anything," Arthur let out a tight breath a moment later, "that's not fair to you at all."

Merlin settled a hand on Arthur's knee, "It's okay if you don't promise me anything."

"You know, not that long ago, I promised her something." Arthur spoke so softly that Merlin barely even heard him. "It was something so simple..." then he laughed. "I promised my wife that she'd be happy with me."

"She..was, wasn't she?"

Arthur's face was dark, "Guinevere was...I wanted the best for her. I wanted to make her happy."

"And she's happy," Merlin looked at him. "...Right?" He put his arms around Arthur and pulled him close--close enough so they were just barely touching. "Arthur, that's all I want, don't you get it?" (Something sort of rude almost followed, but this was not the place nor the time.)

Arthur blinked at him, "What--"

"If you ask me 'What the hell are you talking about?' I really will hit you." Merlin almost gritted out between clenched teeth, "Damn it, Arthur, would you please just stop being so dense for once, andlisten to me?" His grip tightened on Arthur's shoulders. "That's all I want! For once I want you to be straight with me and tell me the truth. About your father, about your wife, about why youinsiston being so pathetic?"

"Merlin..." Arthur's face looked even more pinched, "I can't just tell you."

"And why not?" Merlin set his chin defensively. "I'm not man enough to take it, or something?"

"It's not that," With a shake of his head, Arthur turned quickly away from him, "I just..."

"Arthur."

And apparently, he ended up snapping Arthur's name with enough force because Arthur turned his head again. "...What?"

"It's history, Arthur. It's the past. It's not like it's there waiting to happen again," Merlin said. "And I don't care, I just want to know I matter enough for you to tell me things that are important to you...I don't ask you for a lot."

It took a moment for Merlin to realize that Arthur was shaking. "...Arthur?"

"I guess...I've always been a little stupid."

Merlin let out a breath he hadn't even been aware of holding. "More than a little."

Arthur pressed him back into the couch, and the scent of dust tickled Merlin's nose, "Merlin, what if I killed her?"

"...You what?"

"What would you do if I told you I killed her?"

Merlin stared hard at Arthur's face for a long moment and drew in a breath that was also not quite even. "...That's not funny." he said finally, "It's really not. But if you really did kill her...you probably had a good reason and you've been punishing yourself ever since."

"I didn't kill her," Arthur spoke against his collarbone. "But I might as well have."

"What are you talking about? She was happy with you." Merlin told him. "If she wasn't, she wouldn't have married you."

Arthur said, "She was only happy for a little while." Then he fell silent and Merlin somehow worked up the nerve to kiss Arthur's fingers, as an invitation to keep on speaking.

"Alex...is actually our second child. She...had a miscarriage the first time. That was before we got married, officially, we were going to name her Helen. Alex...doesn't know about her." Here, Arthur took a tortured pause.

"...There's a lot of things Alex doesn't know," Merlin commented mildly.

"Are you suggesting I tell this to a six-year-old kid?"

Merlin shook his head, "One day the kid won't be six, but he'll always be your son." He said softly, running his thumb across Arthur's palm. "I think you owe it to him to be a little bit honest. Doesn't he wonder about his mother?"

Arthur hesitated, "You know, this past Sunday, was his birthday. He asked me to tell him about her...he said it was embarrassing that he was the only kid in class who didn't know who his mother was."

"...And did you tell him?"

"Just...just what she was like." Arthur admitted, looking resigned, pale, and very, very old. Now that Merlin was close enough to notice it--Arthur had lines on his face, lines that he personally thought should have been kept at bay until Arthur was at least forty. "...Not what happened."

Merlin took a chance, "...What happened?"

Arthur wouldn't look at him.

"One day, you're going to have to tell me," Merlin said. "You can't hide forever."

"I...I hide very well until you--" Arthur cut himself off abruptly. "I mean...you're not going to make it easy for me, are you?"

"I think you're the only one that makes it hard," Merlin told him.

Arthur sat upright and the sofa and Merlin, after a moment, followed suit. They sat a respectable distance from one another...which was rather significant given the fact that it was a small couch. "Remember when I told you that my father and I never got along well?"

"...Yeah."

"I got along very well with my mother when she was alive. I think she would have liked Gwen if they'd met," Arthur's words were carefully measured, as if he was thinking very hard. "But my old man...a lot of times, I thought I was adopted, we've never seen eye to eye, even when it came to the simplest things, like what to eat for dinner.

"But...you know, I was still his son, and it was arranged that when I got out of college without flunking out or anything, there'd be a nice cushy spot at PC waiting for me."

"What happened to your mother?"

"She was always ill, and my father wasn't the easiest man to live with." Arthur's voice caught just a little. "Maybe it was better that way. I don't think she could have survived being with him that much longer anyway."

To Merlin, that didn't seem like the kindest thing to say about someone's own father, but Arthur certainly seemed like the type to hold a grudge.

"...I met Gwen," Arthur continued quietly. "And she really was a nice girl. When you think about it, New York City isn't really big, it just seemed that way. She went to Cooper Union, I was at NYU, our paths crossed often, and I already told you how we met.

"I told my father that I wanted to marry her," Arthur shook his head. "That was my first and worst mistake. When you're twenty, you know, you don't care about these things...I didn't know Gwen wasn't all that wealthy, I didn't know her father was a grocer and bending over backwards for his only daughter to attend school in New York. Apparently, these things set off warning bells for my father and he became convinced that she was a gold digger who was after me because I was eventually going to be worth millions."

Merlin settled a hand on Arthur's shoulder, he'd mostly stopped shaking. "She wasn't like that?"

"Of course not, I didn't even tell her I was rich."

"But she could probably tell by the way that you made a huge fuss about your suit,' Merlin said dryly.

"Probably, yeah. My own fault though..." Arthur averted his eyes. "But she wasn't like that. She even winced every time I bought her something. Regardless, my father flew over on one of his business trips and said he wanted to meet her. So he did, and of course he couldn't bring himself to like even one thing about her. He criticized everything. Where she came from, what she studied--she studied the same thing as my mother, you know, and how she cooked...

He told me that if I ever married a girl like her, I'd be sorry for the rest of my life." Arthur almost laughed. "I am, now that I think about it. I'm very sorry that I married a girl like Guinevere and didn't get spend the rest of my life with her."

Merlin paused. His face must have given away a little too much because Arthur touched his arm, "I didn't really mean--"

"Of course you mean it," Merlin looked at him, his voice probably harsher than what he originally intended it to be. "She's your wife, I'm the boyfriend. It's going to be different no matter how you look at it."

Arthur looked conflicted, "I just really didn't want you to, you know, leave or something." He said, "because I'll have to chase you down again and it'll really become like a vicious cycle."

Or maybe it already was a vicious cycle, and Arthur was just more of an optimist than he gave himself credit for. Merlin sighed, "Arthur, I asked. Whatever you have to say, I'll listen, if anything, I owe myself that much."

For a long moment, Arthur didn't look at him, and then he looked towards the ceiling and continued, "...While that doesn't completely reassure me, I'll take my chances...I'm really bad at taking chances, I married her a week after my father left. He was absolutely furious.

"He was so furious with me, I can still hear him yelling," Arthur said. "But I thought...I thought she would, in your words, grow on him. But every time I saw my father, he asked me if I was divorced yet.

"Do you know how that feels?"

Merlin had to shake his head no. "Arthur--" But he had the feeling that if Uther really met him and learned his connection to Arthur, he'd get the experience firsthand.

"Let me finish," Arthur held up a hand. "Gwen...she couldn't take it either. But then I guess I should have learned from what happened to my mother. She..."

When Arthur finally did falter, Merlin reached over for his hand. He felt like something sharp was permanently lodged in his chest. "Did Gwen...die?"

"No, she did not," Arthur took a deep breath. "That's the part I can't forgive myself for. I wish she had."

"That's a terrible thing to say."

Arthur looked over at him, "Not completely, and no, I"m not proud to say that at all." and he didn't look proud, in fact, he looked quite miserable. "...I can only find time to drive out to see her three times a year. Our wedding anniversary, her birthday, and Thanksgiving."

Finally at a loss for words, Merlin reached for him. "I'd like to meet her, someday." and he stroke Arthur's hair until they both fell asleep.

"...So."

Mordred looked over at him expectantly, "An hour later and I'm still waiting. Prince Charming's not up yet?"

"He...uh, had a long night," Merlin stared down at his coffee cup.

"Why are you up at the crack of dawn, then? Don't tell me that he's the only one that had a long night."

Merlin gave him a long, healthy glare before getting up from his chair. He had a long night, but Mordred wouldn't have defined it as one. "I'm going to wake up Prince Charming."

Talking about it almost made Arthur feel better. But he wasn't even sure about how to feel because it was the closest that he'd ever come to telling the truth. He was never good at that, and for the first time, he thought Merlin brought out the worst in him. The sky was blue, but it felt not unlike a overcast day as he watched Merlin bid his last goodbyes to his mother and Mordred.

"I almost feel like I'm married," Merlin smiled at him.

"You're missing a dress," Arthur said, trying to stop his lips from twitching. "We can pick one up when we get back."

"How come I have to be the one in a dress?" Merlin didn't waste time shooting him with a mockingly sour look.

Arthur got it: he got what Merlin was trying to do. Show him that everything was normal, that nothing was going to change just because he had divulged his deep dark secrets. It was kind of like Merlin was going out of his way to treat Arthur like a normal person, but Arthur wondered if he was just walking on eggshells just because.

Merlin was speaking again, "Mom wants you to come by again and bring Alex. She wants to meet him."

"I like your mother," Arthur admitted as he shut his trunk with a decisive bang. "I can see why you're a saint."

"You're almost too kind," Merlin glanced over at him. "...Which sort of worries me, actually."

Arthur paused, "Are you sure...you want to come back with me?"

"Is that what this is about?"

"A little," and it cost a little more of his dignity to admit that.

Merlin was quiet for a long moment, "You know, I thought you'd do that to me." as an answer, he reached for his seatbelt. "Between the two of us, I'm not sure which one feels more like a charity case, let's go, okay?"

"Merlin..."

"Arthur, goodness, you could try not to be weird. You're actually a quite a nice normal person if you set your mind to it." Merlin patted him, "Come on, drive, I want to cook lunch when we get back...did you destroy the kitchen while I was gone?"

"Actually, it happens to be my kitchen, so I wouldn't be too thrilled if it was destroyed either," Arthur rolled his eyes. "I haven't really used it, and you've only been gone three weeks."

"Only? Does that mean you don't miss me?"

"One of these days you're going to have to learn how to play fair." Shifting the car into gear, Arthur backed down the driveway while Merlin waved good-bye to Mordred and his mother.

Arthur hadn't expected it, but the moment he parked the car and got out to open Merlin's door, Alex flew right out of Morgana's front door barefoot and nearly ran Merlin over. "Merlin! Merlin! Merlin! It's you!"

It took Merlin a moment to collect his wits, but he picked up Alex and spun him around just as enthusiastically. "Hey, there. Course it's me, who were you expecting?"

Arthur saw his son studying him over Merlin's shoulder. "...I dunno, just Dad."

"What do you mean just Dad?" Arthur stared back at him. "Do you really have such little faith in me?"

Alex shrugged.

"Hey."

Merlin said, "Alex, you shouldn't be like that to your Dad. He works hard, you know. Let's go say hi to your Aunt Morgana. Is she really pregnant?"

"She looks that way."

"Alex..." Merlin laughed a little, "I've only been gone three weeks, does she have a big belly?"

"She will soon! The doctor said so. I'm going to be a big brother!" Alex's mouth was obviously running a mile a minute. "You're not going to run away again, are you?"

"Hey! I was not running away, just taking a vacation."

"Next time you take a vacation, you have to remember to take me!" Alex's voice rose a few pitches, "Or else I'll tell Dad not to take you to Disneyland with us! You even missed my birthday!"

"...Arthur's taking me to Disneyland?" Merlin sounded surprised, and rightfully so, as Arthur hadn't even told him yet. "...Arthur? Are you coming?"

Maybe, it was all right for Arthur to be a bit of an optimist just this once, "Yeah, I'm coming."

Morgana turned out actually pregnant. Arthur would not have let her hear the end of it had not Merlin jabbed his elbows with purpose into Arthur's ribs (several times, Arthur saw stars). They ended up staying for lunch, and even Orwaine came home from work. And the argument could have easily been made that Alex was the one that looked forward to the baby's coming the most. A host of topics were tossed around, and Arthur was almost able to forget.

"You have to stop jabbing me with your elbow, as I keep telling you." Arthur sank into a chair.

"If you don't say those things in front of your newly pregnant sister, I doubt I'd have to resort to desperate measures." Merlin shrugged, "you brought it upon yourself."

"So everyone is so fond of telling me."

"Hey, Dad! Can we set up the tent in the backyard tonight, please, please?" Alex bounded down to the stairs without warning with his pillow and sleeping bag in tow. He probably had factored in Arthur's answer without asking him first.

"Alex--"

"And Merlin can stay too! You guys can share the big sleeping bag," Alex continued so cheerily that both Merlin and Arthur simultaneously blanched at the possibility. Not because it was an unpleasant thought for either of them (or so Arthur sincerely hoped not) but Alex! Alexander was only six.

"I'm going to tell Morgana off for making you watch daytime soap operas, I swear," Arthur gave his son a long glance.

Alex blinked, "I only watch cartoons! But can we can we?"

Merlin was looking over at him now, and Arthur shrugged, "If Merlin's fine with sharing a big sleeping bag with me."

"You snore?" Merlin's mouth twitched.

"Merlin!" Alex sounded just as offended as Arthur's feelings were.

"I'm kidding," Merlin settled a hand atop Alex's head. "Sharing a sleeping bag sounds good, we should try barbeque. Tell me at least you know how to use a grill."

"Big surprise I know, but yeah I do." Arthur barely heaved himself up before Alex launched himself with surprising force into his arms. "Okay, calm down, come with me to set up the tent--try to remember I'm not as young as I used to be?"

"You'd probably have to remember that too, honestly." Merlin reminded him offhandedly as he also got to his feet. "Can I have your keys? If I'm staying here, I'm going to need my suitcase."

"Or you could just be lazy and wear my things," the words slipped before Arthur could really think about them, and for the first time, he didn't really regret it. "I've got quite the wardrobe."

"I'm sure you do," Merlin leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I'll go upstairs and help myself then."

"You...do that."

Alex waved a hand in front of his face, "Oh, Dad..."

Right. Tent. Grill. Arthur's brain was noticeably stuck in the fact that 'Merlin was staying over' and yes, it was that easy. And all he had to do was be normal, himself, like Merlin had said. Things weren't so bad. "Let's go set up the tent."

Of course Merlin had thought about spending the night at Arthur's before, and of course his roommates probably thought about it more than he did. (Although Merlin really didn't want to think about that.) But he'd never thought it'd play out like this, 'camping' out in Arthur's backyard and sharing a sleeping bag, wearing Arthur's clothes.

"This is the best!" Alex told them enthusiastically as he crunched into his crackers and s'mores. "Isn't this a good idea?"

"Yes, Alex, it was a wonderful idea," Merlin said, reaching for another two crackers.

"Because if I don't give you guys permission to sleep in the same sleeping bag, I don't think you'll ever get there." Alex grinned, looking much too accomplished.

"I still have to ask you, young man, where you got that idea." Arthur in turn, didn't look too amused.

"Well we have two sleeping bags, don't we? And there're three people, so...even if you think about it, you two are stuck sharing one." Alex grinned, "I'm going to lie down, okay? None of that icky stuff."

Merlin had to smile at him, "...None of that icky stuff. NIght, Alex."

"And it alarms me even more why your mind even goes there," Arthur shook his head and gave Alex a quick hug. "Night."

They sat there for a decent while in silence, and Merlin ventured, "...Think he's asleep yet?"

"Probably not," Arthur shrugged. "He's good at faking it though."

"I can definitely see where he's coming from."

"Your luck's going to run out one day and I'm really going to start minding the way you talk to me." But Arthur's smile dulled the sharpness of his words.

Merlin leaned over and put his head on Arthur's shoulder, "...Is it any better?"

Arthur sighed, "I don't know. I guess it's...sort of relieving."

Merlin supposed that was an honest answer as any, he didn't know how he would have answered, either.

"But...I'm going to tell Alex someday, and I'm going to let him read the letters. We'll go see Gwen together."

"With me too?"

Arthur nodded, "She'd like you, I'm sure."

"I hope so, she sounds lovely," and a part of Arthur's past, something that Merlin was going to have to live with.

"She is." And then another long silence before Arthur tilted his head up and kissed him. A kiss that asked for forgiveness.

"Let's go to bed."

"Why don't you move in with him already?" Matthew asked as he watched Merlin shove a few change of clothes into a bag. "You can totally trust me with the apartment, and your entire wardrobe's probably over there now, if that hasn't occurred to you."

Well, yes, it had occurred to Merlin. More than once, actually. It'd been two wonderful months, and he was practically a continuous guest at the Pendragon household and was running out of clothes to come back for. Matthew had a point.

And though Arthur never mentioned Gwen again, Merlin could see that he was a happier person for it, although it still bugged him from time to time.

"Someone has to keep an eye on you, you know." Merlin slung the bag over his shoulder.

"You of so little faith," Matthew clicked his tongue. "I'm disappointed in you, at least I haven't asked anyone to move in yet. Mordred's been busy recruiting--"

"Hey, Merlin! I feel like I haven't seen you in months, buddy!" As if on cue, Mordred walked in the room with arms spread, "Too busy being happy?"

"Mordred--"

"...Hey, it's okay," Mordred grinned at him. "Not everyday that I get to see a happy Merlin. Keep it up."

"I...um," suddenly overcome, Merlin's eyes stung threateningly and he stared down at his socked feet. "Thanks."

Mordred just shrugged, "Look, I've got all the luck with the ladies, I'm not going to grudge you. By the way, you forgot these." He flicked a pair of boxers in Merlin's general direction. Merlin barely dodged.

August tenth. By habit, the date was always circled in every calendar that Arthur had ever owned in red pen. It was a habit he still had yet to break even after three years. But it was the first year that Alex had stared hard at the calendar that sat on his desk for too long and asked:

"...What happened on August tenth?"

Arthur looked away from his screen. August tenth was a day away. "...Well, Alexander, your Mom and I got married on that day."

Alex seemed to digest this and then he said, "Did Mom look pretty?"

"Very pretty."

Alex stared at him for a long moment, and then Arthur supposed he gave the impression of being in a good mood (of which he was, mostly) because Alex asked, "...Can I see a picture?"

Arthur hesitated a long moment, Merlin had gone back to his apartment with the excuse of having run out of clothes. "...Sure, I have a picture in my room."

Alex followed him at a respectable distance and Arthur pulled out a large framed photo out from under the bed. Gwen in her wedding dress, she was beaming, but only Arthur knew how close she was from passing out. He wiped the dust off and handed it over.

"This is your mother."

"She's really, really pretty." Alex smiled at the picture, "Hi, Mom."

Arthur's chest tightened, though he made an effort to maintain a bland face. Alex did not fight him when he took the picture back and slid it back under the bed. An awkward silence ensued, when Alex crossed his legs and looked at him expectantly.

"Alexander, I'll...I'll take you to meet her, tomorrow. Merlin too. But you must promise me not to ask me anything until you're older." Arthur took his son by the shoulders. "When you're older I'll tell you everything, and I'll let you read the beautiful letters that she sent me. But don't ask me anything now."

Merlin was back. He was standing there in the doorway radiating quiet encouragement with a bag in hand.

"I can't ask her anything when I meet her either, right?"

"That's right," Arthur nodded. "But you can ask me anything when you get older."

Alex hesitated, "...Can I at least...call her Mom?"

Arthur was suddenly glad that Merlin put his arms around him when he did, it was comforting, and felt like it was an anchor against his own unsteady emotions.

"If she doesn't mind," Arthur said finally, and tilted his face up to brush against Merlin's chin. "...You'll be coming with me?"

"If you want," Merlin smiled against Arthur's forehead while Alex beamed at them both.

"My Mom is pretty," Alex said again, voice hushed with obvious wonder, probably because he'd never had the chance to say something like that before.

Arthur seemed incredibly morose the next day, Merlin thought. He'd wondered a few times if it would be better for them to call of the trip altogether. Arthur couldn't force himself to be ready for something like this at all.

But by the time that Merlin came back from the florist with a boquet of yellow daisies as per Arthur's request, Arthur had on one of his best suits and even Alex was in a shirt and tie.

"Erm, should I change?" Merlin asked rather awkwardly as he set the flowers down on the side table in the hallway. "Borrow a tie, at least?" He hadn't been warned that this was a formal affair and was in a shirt and kakhis.

Arthur looked distracted, at the very least, "No, no, it's fine, you look all right."

It seemed like they were going, even if it killed them. Alex's hand slipped into Merlin's own, and Merlin realized that the boy's palm was wet. "...Alex? You okay?"

"I'm nervous," Alex admitted. "Will you sit in the backseat with me?"

"Sure," Merlin gave his hand a comforting squeeze. Alex was not the only one, but probably the only one with enough integrity to admit to being nervous.

Arthur drove for a whole two hours without speaking. Merlin busied himself picking the wilted petals off the flowers while Alex tried to nap with his head nestled in Merlin's lap. The silence was decidedly suffocating.

In fact, it was so suffocating that when Arthur finally said, "We're here." Merlin startled and Alex knocked his head against the seat cushion.

It wasn't quite the farming town that Merlin had grown up in, but it was noticeably quieter than the city, and he could actually see trees. He even heard birds chirping. Arthur had parked in front of an impressive building: Avalon Healing Center.

Merlin had read an advertisment for that in some magazine. It was a privately own care facility, state of the art staff and treatment bought with the state of the art price. It was only fair. Alex's grip on his hand tightened on his when they got out.

"Arthur, you...you're sure you want to do this?" For once, Merlin could not discern Arthur's face at all.

"I want to do it," Arthur nodded tersely and motioned for them to follow him to the front door, after relieving the daisies from Merlin's other hand.

The reception room rivaled any expensive hotel lobby. There were leather chairs, thick carpet, and a chandelier. Alex was so facisnated by the chairs that Merlin instructed him to sit and wait quietly while he followed Arthur to the desk.

Arthur said, "Excuse me, I'm here to see Guinevere Pendragon."

The nurse smiled warmly at them, "Gwen seems to be popular lately. Do you know where her room is?"

"...Yes, I do, thanks," Arthur nodded politely, and waited while Merlin went to collect Alex.

"Can you pick me up, Dad?" Alex opened his arms.

Merlin quickly held out his hand for the flowers, "I'll take those." And Arthur picked Alex up.

The elevator ride up to the fourth floor took forever, and Arthur said to him: "...This place isn't bad, some of the old senile movie stars end up retiring here."

"Oh."

Room 312 was at the end of the hall, they passed by two nurses with carts. Arthur knocked twice on the door, "...Guinevere? It's Arthur."

Merlin didn't even realize that he was holding his breath until the door clicked open, revealing another nurse in uniform.

"You must be the visitors," She opened the door wider. "But I'll have to warn you advance, I don't think Guinevere's feeling too well today, so I may have to cut your visit short. Have any of you been here before?"

Arthur said, "I have."

"Oh, well, in that case, you know." The nurse looked at him, "She probably won't remember you, but I'm sure she will appreciate the sentiments. I'll give you all some time alone, Guinevere's in the kitchen...I'm going with you to tell her I'm leaving."

Guinevere. Merlin had wondered about her the moment he had discovered that Arthur still stubbornly wore his wedding ring. It'd been just shy of a year, and now he knew why Arthur kept it on. It was an instinctive feeling.

She sat there, at home on a wheelchair, drawing on a piece of paper with a couple of charcoal pencils. Arthur must have sent over her wardrobe. Guinevere looked like she had in the pictures, and she smiled at them.

"Gwen, you have some visitors," the nurse told her gently. "I'm going out for a little while so they can get comfortable."

"...All right," said Guinevere, sounding remarkably clear and cheery. "See you in a bit then."

Arthur still had the same reaction every single time he saw her. His throat closed up and his eyes stung.

"Hey, Gwen."

She tilted her head, puzzled. "...I'm sorry, I have the most terrible memory, but I feel like we've met before." She held out a hand to him, "Just in case we haven't, I'm Guinevere."

Arthur took her hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles. "I'm Arthur. It's a pleasure to meet you again."

To a Wild Rose (3/3)

raspberry_pop — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 18:50:24 GMT

Title: To a Wild Rose

Category: Merlin © BBC
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin, bit of Gwen/Lancelot
Genres: AU/Angst/Romance/Historical(ly inaccurate .__.)
Rating: PG-13/PG-16 at the most
Progress: 3/3
Wordcount: 4910
Summary: Victorianesque—Arthur Pendragon, Marquess of Harington flees to his country estate for a well-deserved summer holiday. However, there is no rest for the weary, as Arthur finds out that his new stable boy Merlin, is socially inept but helplessly captivating, and that his mansion just might be haunted by a secret his father struggles to hide.

Notes: for the kinkme_merlin prompt: 19th century AU. Arthur as the lonely child of a rich lord, Merlin as the new stableboy. Bonus points for UST and needy fumblings in empty rooms of the ~deserted~ mansion.

Thanks to anna_zee for being a wonderful beta! And everyone who read and commented; this sort of storyline was out of my comfort zone so every comment really means a lot. Thank you all <33.

It also occurred to me that I sort of chose an unfitting title, but it sounded nice and Victorianesque...>.>

Part II here: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/6104.html
Part I here: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/5261.html#cutid1-

Chapter 3; A Few Hopeful Promises

Arthur didn't sleep at all that night. The ghost came to him and stared at him mournfully with hollow eyes.

The lips moved.

Then the ghost was gone.

He lay back down with a thump and a groan. He was really getting used to having long nights.

Lancelot smoothed a hand over the sheets. He repeated this motion several times while Arthur watched him carefully. Finally, he shook his head. "Arthur, I don't see any blood. You must have imagined it." With that, he straightened up. "It was late when you came up here last night, anyway, wasn't it?"

"But there's blood," Arthur insisted, pointing to the stain. "It's still there! The sheets haven't even been changed. Can't you see it?"

"Arthur..."

"I swear, I'm not lying!" Arthur pointed to the sheets. "Father was even limping--"

"Limping?" Lancelot raised a brow. "The Duke looked fine to me. Moreover, Arthur..."

"What?"

"You don't exactly look fine," Lancelot said, placing a steadying hand under Arthur's elbow. "I think you'd better lie down. I'll alert the kitchens and have them bring lunch to your chambers."

"You're a little pale, but I think you're fine," Gwen said, giving him a concerned look. "There's no blood on the bed though, I went with Lancelot and checked. Twice."

"But I swear I saw--"

"Arthur, it was late at night," Gwen touched his arm. "You must have been tired. And I may not have the best memory in the world, but I could have sworn that the Duke was fine when he left Chatsworth."

Arthur bit his lip. "...so I'm crazy."

Gwen was quick to shake her head. "Don't say that; you're just tired. You've gone out on rides every day, no wonder you're winding down. A day of rest definitely won't hurt you."

"Or maybe the Marquess really is insane and you're just too nice to tell him so," said Merlin's voice and Arthur snapped his head towards the door. It wasn't just Merlin's voice, it was the whole of Merlin--carrying his lunch. "No wonder he's so spoilt. You people are too good to him."

"Merlin..."

"Don't get so worked up, Marquess." Merlin shut the door with a decisive click behind him. "Just returning the favor, for once. You've pestered me for the better part of your stay."

"Or else Gaius will have your head?" Arthur looked at him.

"Something like that."

Gwen looked between the two of them. "I guess...neither of you will mind very much if I make myself scarce." She headed towards the door and nodded at Merlin. "Please, take care of Arthur."

"I'll try my best," Merlin gave her a vague half-smile of sorts. After Gwen left, he latched the door and joined Arthur on the bed. "And it looks like I will have to end up trying my best because you hardly help your own cause, Arthur."

"Is that you trying to say that you worry about me?" Arthur stared hard at the plate in his lap. "I thought you hated the house. What brought this on?"

"I do. That hasn't changed," Merlin shrugged one shoulder. "I wouldn't have to come check up on you if you weren't so careless. You should have known they couldn't have seen anything. You're a worrisome person."

"I thought they'd be able to see the blood, at least," Arthur said.

"Not if the ghost spilled it." Merlin shook his head. "They probably couldn't see your father's limp either, could they?"

"And now everyone thinks I'm insane."

"Not everyone," Merlin reminded him with a little smile and a gentle kiss to his jaw. "I don't."

"But you're practically crazy on your own already, you don't count." Arthur was not in the best of moods with Merlin this morning--rather, afternoon, it was afternoon, now.

"You hurt my feelings terribly, Marquess." Merlin clicked his tongue at him. "But I suppose you're right. At the end of the day, you are the Duke's son, so you probably can't help yourself."

"I'm nothing like my father," Arthur mumbled into his pillow, trying not to sound as offended as he felt.

"I wouldn't have come within a hundred feet of you if you were anything like the Duke, worry not, Arthur." If anything, Merlin did sound a little too cheerful. "I like to think I'm a fair judge of character."

"That's comforting."

"It should be." Merlin ran a hand through Arthur's hair. "Come now, don't mope. Everyone already thinks I'm a bad influence on you anyway, there's no need to make it any worse. Eat something." He gestured invitingly to the plate.

After a pause, Arthur complied and cut himself a piece of meat.

Merlin studied him. "Perhaps you really are ill."

"Just because I don't have an appetite doesn't mean I'm ill," Arthur reminded him tersely. "Do you even know what this means?"

"What?"

"The ghost is determined to hurt my father, this time he escaped with a limp." Arthur looked at him for a long moment. "I'm still in this house."

"Ah..." Merlin's smile flipped to a half smirk. "The Marquess is afraid of something."

Arthur glared at him. "Whoever said I was scared?" He stared down at his hands. "I'm just saying. If he's a ghost, then I can't touch him if he turns on me. Not exactly fair game."

Merlin nuzzled at his neck. "You forget about magic."

"I certainly don't need you to save me," Arthur said.

"Because it's humiliating?" Merlin raised his eyebrow. "That's too bad, Arthur. I was sort of looking forward to being your white knight in shining armor."

"Shut up."

Merlin leaned forward and kissed him. Arthur smelled mead on Merlin's breath and tasted mead on Merlin's tongue. "As you wish."

"I thought this was supposed to be a summer holiday, Arthur." Lancelot looked down at the sword in his hand, rather puzzled. "Time to relax, sleep, swim in the river--" He cut off abruptly at the look that Arthur gave him. "Right, I forget, you don't know how to swim."

Arthur bit his lip. "For that, I hope your footwork's as nimble as ever, Lancelot."

Lancelot took a cautionary step back and shrugged. "I like to think it is," he said with a disarming smile. "You should try me. Don't expect me to go easy because of your little spell this morning."

There was a loud clang of metal as Arthur suddenly sprang forward. "I certainly plan to."

Merlin was watching him from a nearby tree. The tree was large, and Arthur made a mental note to ask him how he got up there so quietly without anyone noticing. Must have been magic--

There was a sudden sharp throb in his arm and Arthur's sword dropped from his hands.

Lancelot was smirking at him. "Gwen was right, Arthur." He bent to pick up the wayward sword and tossed it back in Arthur's general direction. "Your head's really been turned through and through by the stable boy. I wonder what your darling Spanish princess thinks about that."

"Maria doesn't know about Merlin," Arthur said hastily, turning away from the tree. "Stop making it into a big deal."

This earned him a long searching look from Lancelot. "Arthur...you've changed."

"I haven't." Arthur shook his head, "I'm just..."

"Well, if you haven't changed, Marquess, you must just be tired, or maybe you just lost your form." Merlin was there, slinging a casual arm around Arthur's shoulders. "Would you mind terribly if I kidnapped him for the rest of the afternoon, Lancelot?"

"You really did not have to do that," Arthur informed Merlin when they were back at the stable. "You've just gone and made things worse."

"As far as I know, I saved you from making a lengthly explanation that no one will believe. How exactly are you going to explain that you have changed? I doubt they even know how to explain that you have changed. Perhaps it is better that way." Merlin looked at him calmly. "Sword training won't do anything, especially when even your butler can best you."

"I'm having a bad day." Arthur glared at him. "Usually, Lancelot can't even touch me. And you...you're distracting. How'd you get up to that tree, anyway?"

"I climbed up there. I used to do it all the time." Merlin was giving him a strange look, much like the one that Lancelot had given him earlier. "How'd you think I got up there? Magic?"

Arthur shrugged.

"Honestly, Arthur, I wouldn't have blatantly used magic in front of someone like your butler. It'd be like digging my own grave." Shaking his head, Merlin brushed a hand by his arm. "I used to climb trees all the time when I was a boy."

"...Here?"

Merlin nodded. "Here...when the Duke wasn't around, of course. Else, I probably wouldn't be here."

"...Did you put him up to this?"

"Who?"

"The ghost."

Merlin paused. "Arthur, I said the ghost won't hurt you."

Arthur looked at him for a long moment. "So you say, but excuse me if I'm not exactly comfortable with a ghost just staring at me all night. You may be used to it, but I certainly am not."

"You're thinking too much." Merlin smiled faintly at him. "Let's go for a swim."

"I don't know how to swim." It cost Arthur his courage and then some to admit that when they came to the river.

Merlin stopped. "You might as well learn," he reasoned evenly as he tossed his shirt aside. "When a future damsel in distress falls into a river, you can call yourself a hero."

Arthur studied Merlin's bare back. He'd been traumatized the last time he got the chance (Uther really did take the fun out of everything without trying too hard,) but this time...

"Merlin? Where'd you get that scratch?"

There was a jagged scar along Merlin's left shoulder. "Actually..." he said, shrugging, "it was nothing. An accident when I was little." He stood up. "You're just stalling now. Shall I throw you in, instead?" he asked, smiling faintly. "I don't think anyone would be too pleased with me--or you, for that matter--if your clothes were ruined."

"Instead of worrying about me, I suggest you worry about yourself." Arthur glanced at him. "I could just say you coerced me."

"If your pride would let you say it." Merlin bit back a snort. "Which I honestly doubt it will."

Arthur, momentarily distracted by Merlin jumping into the water stark naked, almost forgot to be offended. But after giving his stable boy a dirty look, he stripped off his clothing and followed suit.

"This water is freezing."

"Come off it, Arthur, it's not like you're going to freeze to death. It's the middle of summer."

"Yes, well, before I freeze, I'm going to drown." Arthur grabbed at the bank.

"I thought you had more faith in me than that." Merlin's arms were around him, and Arthur forced himself to relax. Maybe it would be better if he didn't think about it so much. "Do you think I'd ask you to go swimming just to drown you?"

Or Arthur could be conveniently distracted by the fact Merlin was very wet, and very indecent. That seemed to be a much better focus for his attentions than worrying about how he was going to drown.

"I was hoping you'd have other intentions, honestly," Arthur tipped his head back slightly so that it rested on Merlin's shoulder.

"Oh, I do," Merlin's smirk widened, "Thoroughly indecent intentions." Gently, he turned Arthur around in the water, hitching Arthur's legs up around his waist. "I trust that you'll enjoy them."

He would only admit it within the deeply private recesses of his mind, but Arthur did end up enjoying Merlin's indecent intentions. Both of them were laying on the grass, and Arthur turned on his side to look at Merlin. Merlin, who always looked so troubled before, looked peaceful and content.

"Will you tell me about the ghost?" Arthur asked softly.

"I told you he's not going to hurt you." Merlin said. "Why do you want to know so much?"

Arthur hooked his fingers with Merlin's. "He's important to you, that's why."

"I had no idea you spoke poetry so well." Merlin looked genuinely surprised.

Arthur smiled a little. "I try," he said, giving Merlin's hand a squeeze. "I didn't think you'd fall for poetry, Merlin."

"I don't. But I'll tell you," Merlin said, "since you want to know so much."

"How kind of you."

"I try." It was Merlin's turn to smile. "I knew him when I was a boy. We used to climb trees together. He taught me how."

"Here at Chatsworth? How come I never saw you?"

"You were probably too young to remember me." Merlin shrugged one shoulder. "But I remember you...you were here one summer. I was grooming one of the horses. You were with your mother."

Arthur paused. "My...mother?"

"She was nice...the Duchess gave me her handkerchief. I still have it." Merlin smiled at him. "You were afraid of me...well, either me or the horse."

"It was probably you," Arthur looked at him.

"Probably." Merlin propped himself up on his elbows. "We should go, Gaius will never forgive me if the precious Marquess catches a cold." With that, he stood abruptly to retrieve the pile of clothing that they'd left by the bank.

For a moment, Arthur did not move. He just lay there, hands outstretched towards the dusky sky.

"Arthur?" Merlin looked at him.

"We should just stay here forever." Arthur grinned at him.

Merlin was rolling his eyes, probably, as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Don't be ridiculous. You’re such a boy."

"Merlin is joining us as the table. Set a place for him," Arthur announced to a dining room full of people that that simultaneously went slackjawed. (Hopefully they went slackjawed at the nature of his request and not at how utterly wrecked he looked, or at the grass stains on his shirt and trousers.)

"I'm not staying, Arthur," Merlin immediately said, "I never said I was staying, anyway."

"Well, you're staying." Arthur gave him a look. "Come on, just sit down."

Gaius coughed pointedly. "Arthur..."

"It may have slipped your mind, Marquess, but you've just committed treason by offering a mere stable boy a seat at your table." Merlin quickly wrenched his hand out of Arthur's grip. "I'm leaving."

Merlin was walking away.

Arthur thought fast. “Wait!”

Merlin stopped, and Gaius looked as if he was prepared to hit Arthur with something blunt. Gwen seemed hesitant, and Lancelot’s shoulders were shaking with silent mirth.

“Figuratively speaking, if everyone sits and eats with me, it wouldn’t exactly be treason, would it?” Arthur said, “So...everyone, sit down.”

Lancelot clapped a hand on his young master’s shoulder. “You couldn’t have been any more eloquent about it, sir. All that is left for you to do now is to get on your knees and grovel for your stable boy’s mercy.”

Arthur had the decency to look (somewhat) horrified. “Lancelot...”

Lancelot blinked at him nonchalantly. “Am I wrong, Arthur?”

Gwen was giggling quietly with her hand over her mouth--but still, it was giggling all the same.

With a shake of his head, Merlin walked back to the table and put a hand on Arthur’s head. For the first time, Arthur realized that Merlin was indeed taller than he was, and the discovery irked him to no end.

“You really are hopeless sometimes, Marquess.” And then Merlin took a seat in the chair on Arthur’s right and reached for the silk napkin. “If you’ve come short of just groveling, then I guess I will have to abide by your wishes.”

Arthur smiled at him and sat. Gwen and Lancelot followed suit. Some of his father’s servants dawdled, and Arthur sent one confused looking boy down to the cellar for wine.

By the time the wine was gone, even Gaius was sitting.

“So I’ve ate at your table, I’ve drunk your wine,” Merlin mused as he and Arthur made slow progress up the stairs while the others scurried back to their rightful stations. “What next? I suppose I will have to share your bed too?”

Arthur flushed a brilliant red. “You said it, I certainly didn’t.”

“Then...would you be averse to it?” Merlin nuzzled at him.

“You know I wouldn’t be.” Arthur glanced at him briefly. “For someone who’s so averse to this house, you’ve adapted beautifully.”

“It’s the wine, Marquess.” Merlin smiled and rubbed Arthur’s arm. “Just the wine, please don’t get your hopes up.”

Even if it was really just the wine, Arthur was glad for it. He unlatched the door to his bedroom and Merlin followed him in.

“Arthur.”

Arthur paused. “What?”

Merlin looked uncertain for a moment, but he swallowed and said, “You...you slept in this room when you were a boy.”

Arthur felt a shiver crawl up his spine. "How did you--”

Merlin shrugged. “I just do. Magic, maybe.”

“You and your magic.” Arthur held up his hands in a gesture of defeat. “I suppose it lets you have an answer for everything.” He sank down on a pile of pillows with a slight pout to his lips.

“Almost everything, but not quite,” Merlin laughed. He crawled into bed next to Arthur and Arthur put his arms around him. “I’m just glad I wasn’t born a seer, it’d be terribly boring to know what the future holds...and anyway, it’s not even magic.”

“What...seeing the future?” Arthur mulled this over. “I suppose so. I’d take that over being able to see ghosts.”

“Because he scares you?”

“Because he gives me a bad feeling.” Arthur glared at him. “Stop misinterpreting me.”

For his pains, Merlin gave him a look again, biting his lip. “You’re that inspiring. We shouldn’t look so suspicious when your chambermaid is coming to check on you any minute--”

“If you’ve been around her long enough, you’ll learn that it’s useless to hide anything from Gwen,” Arthur said with a shake of his head. “Just stay, it hardly matters.”

“I will then.”

As if on cue, Gwen poked her head in with a lamp in hand. “And I thought you knew me well enough to know that whenever you talk about me, I know about it.” She surveyed the scene before her with a hand planted on her hip. “You two look comfortable.”

“We’re comfortable,” Merlin said.

“Right, I’m sure.” Gwen half rolled her eyes. “Good night, Arthur, Merlin.”

The ghost was there. There in that very room, but for once, Arthur wasn’t going to wake up for it. But he knew it was there because his bones chilled.

Arthur snuggled closer to Merlin and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Even with that, he could tell the ghost was smiling at him, the way it always did.

Then he suddenly could not breathe. When Arthur opened his eyes, the ghost was leering at him.

“I’m going to kill you.” It was as if the wind had spoken it, but the words rang in his head.

Clawing at his throat, Arthur found nothing there. Merlin shifted quietly beside him. It never occurred to him to scream...though he opened his mouth and nothing came out. His sword suddenly seemed a million reaches away.

Merlin! Wake up!

“Arthur!” For someone who had just woken up, Merlin was incredibly nimble. In a swift motion that any serious fencer would have envied, he tossed the ghost over onto the bed and Arthur just stared.

The ghost lay very still. And it touched Merlin’s face.

Merlin flinched a little, Arthur thought--or maybe he’d wanted to imagine it.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have taught me that.”

The ghost shrugged.

“Arthur...Arthur is nothing like the Duke,” Merlin said. “He’s been nothing but kind to me, he’s nothing like his father. You’ve no reason to hurt him, Will.” He paused for a long moment. “Arthur makes me happy. So...it’s all right, I think.”

Merlin looked towards him for a long moment.

“You really do.”

Arthur lay back against the pillows and looked at him. The silence stretched between them and the ghost--

The ghost was gone.

“Tell me about it,” Arthur said quietly as he opened hims arms to a weary Merlin, “...soon?”

There was warm magic against Arthur’s mouth.

The day after that, Merlin was delirious in the morning. He didn't seem to recognize Arthur at all.

Three long, long days passed before Arthur got Merlin to talk again. Otherwise, he looked ghastly pale, like he was ill. Arthur ordered him to stay in bed, but of course Merlin didn't listen.

The ghost seemed to be gone for good. Which was a good thing, of course, but Arthur was still disturbed by the fact that Merlin wasn’t talking to him. On their first ride out after the incident, Merlin directed them into the forest to a small clearing. They both rode on Laurent because Arthur kept having the worst feeling that Merlin was going to fall off.

There was a small pile of stones there, arranged carefully by someone into a circle. Arthur walked towards it, carrying Merlin on his back in spite of vehement complaints from Merlin that he was indeed all well and fine.

“You can complain all you want, but I’m not letting you down.”

“Prat,” Merlin mumbled into Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur looked back at him. “I’m trying to help you, how does that make me a prat?”

“I don’t need your help.”

“So you’re so fond of saying,” Arthur brushed that off with a mild shrug. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I built that when I was eleven.” Merlin pointed to the pile of stones. “Gaius lied to me and said that was where they buried Will. I think they burned him.”

Arthur was silent.

“He was the stable boy before me.” Merlin’s voice was considerably muffled. “He taught me all sorts of things, stupid things, wise things...Will knew about my magic.” His voice shook just a little. “He was the first person I ever told.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Arthur asked, “What happened to him?”

“He...well, no, that’s not right.” Merlin shook his head. “I...I went riding in the wood, and...I went riding on one of your father’s best--favorite horses. It hurt its foot. It’d never walk again. My magic was weak then, I had no chance of healing it.” For a long moment, Merlin didn’t say anything. “Your father was absolutely furious with me. He threatened to have me flogged.”

“And Will took your place.”

Merlin nodded.

“You said you saved my father.” Arthur glanced at him.

"I did," Merlin affirmed soberly, his arms tightening a little around Arthur's neck. "Will came one night and tried to stab your father while he was asleep. Much like he did a few days ago."

Arthur said, "...Did you stop that too? So you were in the house before? That night."

"I was, yes." Maybe it was Arthur's imagination, but it seemed like Merlin was almost ashamed of his decision.

Merlin had made it more than clear that he hated Chatsworth House and everything that it stood for. It was this house that had witnessed the murder of his dear friend and Arthur's own father had a direct hand in it. Yet, Merlin came to him, and stayed with him in the house. "Why?"

“Because...” There was a brief pause, and then Merlin said, “I thought of you. You aren’t your father, Arthur--though at times you do try to be. Must you need a reason for everything? It does get a little tiresome that way.”

"How am I like my father?"

If anything, Merlin looked pained at his query. "Arthur, you belong to your father's world. You are his son. And one day, you shall be like him, whether I like it or not." He ran a hand through Arthur's hair, "Following in your whimsical footsteps, I wish I could keep you like this forever."

Somehow, Arthur’s own eyes stung. (He’d never admit it, though). “I’ll make it up to you,” he spoke solemnly to the pile of stones after taking a minute to collect himself. “I’ll protect Merlin...and I promise to do right by him.”

“Do right by me?” Merlin sounded rightly amused. “I’m hardly going to make you the king of Spain.”

“No, but playing the damsel in distress hardly suits me,” Arthur decided as he turned away from the pile of stones. “Next time, it’s going to be my turn.”

Merlin kissed his cheek. “I’ll look forward to that.”

The day that Arthur was scheduled to ride back to London, he went to the stables to fetch Laurent feeling more miserable than he could ever remember. Merlin met him there, and Laurent’s coat was so smooth it practically glowed.

Merlin simply handed him the reins and said nothing. They’d said so much already. Arthur swung easily onto his horse and looked down.

“You should come with me to London,” Arthur said softly. “I’d take care of you like I promised him. Devonshire isn’t as big as Chatsworth, but I’m sure there’s room for you.”

“I had the feeling you’d ask me that,” Merlin said with an amiable shrug. “But no, I hate the city.”

“Merlin--”

Merlin held up a hand, “Before you say anything, no, don’t ask me again. I’m not changing my mind.” He dug in his pocket and came up with a small silk bundle. “This is for you.”

Arthur held out his hand. “What’s that?”

“Your mother’s handkerchief,” Merlin grinned. “With a little magic. Like I promised.”

“You didn’t promise.” Arthur pointed out; it was the truth, after all. Merlin had never really promised him anything.

“Must have slipped my mind. Now I promise.” Merlin smiled at him warmly, squeezing Arthur’s hand.

Arthur bit his lip. “I wish,” he began, “I wish that you would change your mind.”

“I won't,” Merlin paused. “But I might surprise you some day.” His smile was almost promising. But not quite.

Arthur stared at him for a long, long moment. “I’d like that.” And he hoped it was soon.

A Fortunate Fall (15/18)

raspberry_pop — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 03:21:43 GMT

banner made by toodelicious

Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 5492
Progress: 15/18
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: I really hate lj at the moment, I keep getting the 'post too large' error! >:/ whyy???

Previous Chapters found here: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/tag/a+fortunate+fall

--

She didn't even know we were related." Arthur mumbled into his arm. Usually, it didn't bother him all that much--in fact, it suited him perfectly fine that no one knew he was related to Uther Pendragon. For the first time, it bugged him.

"...You guys hardly act like you're related," Kaye shrugged. "You never mention your father, maybe she thinks Uther's an uncle of yours or something."

"No one knows about my father, but you," Arthur looked up. "And what a coincidence that Uther paid off the company debts just now. Did you do this?"

"I don't even know what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't," Arthur glanced at him. "I love it when you play the smart guy. Just tell me why you did it."

"I didn't do anything," Kaye shrugged again. "So maybe Uther wants to do something nice for his kid."

"Sorry to sound juvenile, but 'Uther' and 'nice' really don't belong in the same sentence." Arthur rubbed his temple.

Kaye stood in his doorway, "Well, that's very mature, you admitting that you're juvenile."

Arthur felt like hitting him--very hard. "Honestly. If you have that much time to keep mouthing off to me, go make yourself useful and do something else." He shook his head, "you played me, and you know it. I just want to know why you did it."

"Arthur," Kaye began. "There's just...something that you don't get."

"And you get it?"

"It's something you get when you have kids."

"I have Alex," Arthur reminded him rather tersely.

The look that Kaye gave him was not a look that Arthur particularly wanted to decipher right then, "Let me rephrase," he said grimly, "It's something you'll get when you have kids who are estranged. I hope you'll never get it."

Kaye's oldest was Danny, he was seventeen and a handful--into punk metal, liked piercings, having more than one girlfriend at once (Maybe he should introduce Kaye to Merlin and Mordred). Arthur had only met the kid once and wanted to keep it that way.

"Most fathers aren't like mine," Arthur said.

"Most fathers don't try hard like yours, either. You should listen to yourself, you sound like a spoiled brat."

"So it still bothers you?" Mordred asked as he set a bowl of chocolate cherry ice cream in front of Alex, who dove in without a care with two spoons, one in each hand.

"Of course it bothers me." Merlin shot his brother a dark look, "Of course it bothers me that my boyfriend wanted drunk sex with me. That means he's not comfortable."

"...Well, cut him some slack, he's been straight for most of his life. And he’s been married too." Mordred reasoned. "Maybe it's a comfort mechanism." He held up a bowl, "...Ice cream?"

"Mordred..."

Mordred crossed his arms, "You know, sooner or later he's going to notice that you're upset and then the two of you have to talk."

"We won't have to talk if he's too busy being depressed too," Merlin reasoned blandly. "Something happened at work or something. Supposedly someone paid off his company debts."

"What's he angsting about that for?"

"I don't know, we haven't talked about that."

In fact, Merlin thought he and Arthur signed a vow of silence without knowing it. They spoke very little, and Merlin went back to taking the bus home. Arthur was tired, Arthur needed his space...but--

"Merlin, you're not going to waste the rest of your life waiting for him to come around, are you? 'Cause that's just stupid." Sugarcoating things was never Mordred's strong point.

"...I don't know," Merlin shrugged. And he really didn't. "That's...sort of what what I want to talk to you about. I want to go home and see Mom. We haven't seen her since forever. Do you want to come with me?"

Mordred sank down into a chair, "...So you're just going to run away."

"I'm not. I want to see Mom."

"Does Arthur know about that?" Mordred dug a spoon into the half-melted ice cream. "Or wait, let me guess--you haven't told him."

"I was going to tell him...tonight, when he comes home."

Mordred sighed a long, overly dramatic sigh and gestured to the chair across from him, "Sit, buddy. You've got serious issues and we're going to work all that out, but you just gotta talk to me."

"Mordred, I'm not Arthur."

"Honestly..." Mordred looked like he wanted to hit him, "If you're going down that road...you're going to be Arthur in no time. I'll go with you to see Mom, yeah. But I really hope you know what you're doing."

Merlin had to wonder about that. Mordred (for once in a too short time) had a point.

Arthur wasn't sure how he felt about this new shift backwards in his relationship with Merlin. He wasn't going to deny that he was grateful for the space that Merlin decided to give him, but still. Merlin didn't have to be so self-sacrificing about it.

"Arthur, I've been meaning to talk to you about something," Merlin let himself onto the balcony, where Arthur was trying to see how long a single cigarette could last him.

"Okay, talk then."

Merlin joined him at the edge, staying a respectable distance away, "Well," he began, "it's summer, and...I was wondering if you could let me go for a month."

Arthur thought this over. It was not an unreasonable proposition; Merlin hardly took a day off, and it really was summer. Normal people who were not Arthur Pendragon usually took vacations. "Where are you planning on going?"

"Home," Merlin said with a faint smile. "I haven't been...for a while."

Arthur wanted to tell him not to go, he wanted to so badly that it felt like his insides were on fire. But he was an adult, and Merlin shouldn't be subjected to his whims forever.

"Did you tell Alex?"

"No, not yet," Merlin shook his head, "I kind of wanted to okay it with you first."

"It's..." Arthur swallowed, "it's okay with me. When are you leaving?"

Merlin was kissing him, tender, dizzying kisses. "Tomorrow, I'll drop by and tell Alex before I actually go."

"Oh."

Arthur found his arms around Merlin's waist, it was oddly comforting to have him close. Then he wondered if Merlin minded how he tasted when he was smoking.

"Don't you have anything else to say to me?"

"Merlin, I..." What was there to say? What did Merlin want him to say? "About what happened in the hotel, I'm sorry, I was drunk."

Merlin's face was unreadable in the dark, "It's okay."

So why exactly was Arthur left with the strangely miserable feeling that it wasn't that simple? That it wasn't all right? He rubbed his forehead against Merlin's shoulder, "I really am, sorry." As if saying it twice changed things.

"I know."

'You really should stay', was almost on the tip of Arthur's tongue, but somehow, he couldn't say it.

"...What's going to happen to your apartment?"

"Nothing's going to happen to it, hopefully." Merlin shrugged. "I mean, if Matthew and his girlfriend don't tear it apart while I’m gone."

"What about Mordred?"

"Going with me," Merlin said, "I have prove to my mother that I'm doing my job."

"You're a good big brother," was all Arthur could come up with.

And expectedly, he received a, "thank you" with a light kiss to his mouth. Merlin stepped away from him, still holding on to Arthur's hands. "I try...most of the times not hard enough. I'm going home."

"I'll drive," Arthur offered quietly.

"You look tired."

Arthur dug out his keys and dangled them in front of Merlin, "You can drive and I'll ride along. I can drive myself back."

"What got into you?"

Merlin sprawled out on the bed, mumbling into his pillow, "Nothing. He didn't ask me to stay."

Mordred was silent for a very long time, "Arthur can go fuck himself." he said cheerily, "I'll pack, you go to sleep."

Arthur spent a sleepless night thinking about nothing in particular. He was dreading the doorbell ringing, and he was still in bed by the time it rang at nine in the morning. Alex rushed into his room and pounced on his bed. "Someone's at the door!"

"Yeah, I know." Arthur rolled over on his side, "I know, it's probably Merlin."

"Well, if it's Merlin, you should get up!"

Arthur really did not want to. But he rolled out of bed and reached for the nearest shirt--the one that he had worn yesterday. It probably looked horrible with flannel pants but Arthur could not bring himself to care for the moment. "Okay, okay. I'm up."

He didn't really want to see Merlin. At all.

But when Arthur unlatched the door, there Merlin was. "Morning." He wore a faint smile, "looks like I woke you up. I'm sorry."

Arthur said, "Morning. You didn't."

Alex chirped, "Morning, Merlin!"

There was an awkward silence, but then Merlin knelt down and put his hands on Alex's shoulders. "Hey, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner, but I've come to say good-bye, Alex."

Alex's face immediately scrunched up, "Say good-bye? Where are you going?"

"Well...I'm going to visit my mother back home, so I won't be coming back for a while." Merlin said. "Not forever, you'll see me again soon."

"But you can't go!" Alex grabbed at Merlin, "I'm going to cry and then you can't go!"

"Alex, Alex..." Merlin scooped him up and patted him on the back, "I have to go, I called my mother already."

"Did Dad say you could go?"

Arthur said, "Yeah, I said he could go."

"Dad--"

"Alexander," Arthur gave his son an equally severe look. "Merlin deserves a break. So I said he could go. Don't give him a hard time about this."

"What's going to happen to me?" Alex asked him over Merlin's shoulder.

Arthur stiffened, "I'm going to call Morgana."

Merlin threw him a wry grin, "Poor Alex for the next month."

"Yeah," Alex chimed in, "poor me, so you should stay, Merlin."

"Alex..." Merlin put him down, "I have to go, all right? You can call me."

"You guys have a phone down there?" Arthur couldn't help himself.

"It's a farm, but yes, it's also the twenty-first century and we have a phone, and cable television." Merlin gave him a look. "I've got to go, the bus down there leaves in an hour. I just wanted to...you know." He shrugged.

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder, and was almost surprised when Merlin pulled him into a tight hug, he could barely breathe. "Take care of yourself, Merlin."

"You too. Don't kill yourself while I'm gone."

"What the hell do you take me for?" Arthur kissed him on the cheek, "I'll probably be in a coma when you come back though."

"Very funny." Merlin turned, "I'm going to go. Bye, Arthur, Alex."

Alex held Arthur's hand too tight as both of them watched Merlin go. "Dad?"

"What?" Arthur picked him up, and this time, Alex didn't make too much of a fuss about it, pressing his face into the crook of Arthur’s neck.

"Is it really okay with you that Merlin leaves?"

Arthur said, his voice not quite steady, "...He's only going to be gone for a month."

"A month is a long time."

Arthur agreed.

"Did you even call Mom to pick us up?" Mordred grumbled as they lugged their bags off the bus. "I'm totally not walking a mile and a half with our stuff."

"Come off it, it's just three miles and a half, it'd take an hour." Merlin gave him a look. "Quit whining."

"Sorry, city boy now." Mordred shrugged. "But lucky me, I had a hunch you were going to forget so..." he made a grand gesture in the direction of an old car puttering down the road towards them, "I made a precautionary phone call. I expect you to be thanking me for the rest of your life."

"I have no problems walking three miles."

Mordred glared at him, "Well, I do."

"You--"

The car came to a stuttering stop and their mother got out. Hunith was an elderly woman who looked kind no matter what kind of expression she wore. She looked kind of annoyed now, but also kind of pleased. "I'm seeing my boys for the first time in more than a year, please don't let me see you guys arguing?"

"Mom..."

She kissed both of them warmly on the cheek, first Merlin, than Mordred. "Merlin! You look like you lost ten pounds, you look so skinny; have you even been eating?" A pause, as she gave Mordred a better once over, "And Mordred, you look like you gained ten pounds."

Mordred looked outright indignant, "Mo-om!"

"I guess you can tell me all about it back at the farm," Hunith put her arms around both of them. "My boys are all so grown up."

Now both of them: "Mo-om!"

The farm was exactly the same as Merlin remembered it. After they'd left, Hunith probably left the thought of redecorating well alone because there was simply too much to do. The house even smelled the same, horse manure, an overabundance of vanilla scented candle wax. Nothing changed, and Merlin's and Mordred's shared room upstairs in the attic remained exactly the same.

The twin cots smelled suspiciously dusty, but it was home. It was familiar, and Merlin was finally home. He glanced across the room at Mordred rummaging through his bags, "What are you doing?"

"I forgot my Ipod." Mordred sank down on the other cot.

"What a tragedy."

"It totally is!" Mordred crossed his arms, "Stop making fun of me."

Merlin grinned at him, "I know it totally is a big deal. I know."

"Merlin!"

"Boys," Hunith rapped on the door to the loft, "come down, I've got lunch, you can finish unpacking later." She paused, surveying the scene, "Merlin, are you moping?"

Merlin blinked, "No, does it look like I'm moping?"

"Dude, she's Mom, remember?" Mordred poked him in the back, "she's already on to you!"

Merlin wanted to hit him. But he was home, so he did.

"Ow! What the hell?" Mordred rubbed his arm, "I'm going to have this huge bruise tomorrow, and it’s your fault!"

"Merlin dear, you don't have to feel obligated to help me with the dishes every time," Hunith stood beside him as Merlin concentrated on scrubbing the soapy plate in his hand. "And you know, if something's bothering you, I'm here. That's why you came, right?"

"I came to see you, Mom, honest."

Hunith just looked at him.

"All right, all right. So I met this...guy, and...I like him. A lot." Merlin sighed.

"Right, that sounds promising." His mother crossed her arms, "What's he like?"

"He's...well," at the moment, it was a bit difficult to pick out what he liked about Arthur, but Merlin rinsed off the plate and set it beside the sink. "He has a son, and a wife who I know nothing about. He's probably an alcoholic, but he probably has plenty of brain cells to spare...because he’s--" he faltered abruptly at the look Hunith gave him.

"Merlin...I love you," his mother smoothed a hand over his cheeks. "...Which makes what I have to say next difficult. Why can't you just find someone that makes you happy? Does it always have to be so hard on you?"

"Mom, Arthur and Alex make me happy." Merlin said after a brief pause.

Hunith thought this over, "...Do you make Arthur and Alex happy?"

Merlin knew he made Alex happy. But Arthur...Arthur was a whole new headache that he really didn't want to deal with. "I try."

"I guess that's all you can do," The creases in her face eased a little as she turned away. "I'm glad you're home, Merlin."

Merlin had been gone a week. It'd been a long week for Arthur, and by the looks of it, for Alex too. He'd once renounced sleeping in his father's bedroom as childish and immature, but seemed to have moved back in permanently, in lieu of Merlin's absence.

"Alex, it's your birthday soon, isn't it?"

Alex peered over at him from the other side of the bed, "Are you going to ask me what I want for my birthday?"

"Yeah, do you want a party?" Not that Arthur Pendragon knew squat about throwing a birthday party for a soon-to-be six-year-old, but that was nothing a few phone calls couldn't take care of.

"Dad, do you even know how to throw a party?"

"I could...I could get some people to help me," Arthur said. "Just invite some friends, and we'll play some games and have a good time. I'll get you a cake too."

"Do I get Merlin at my party?"

"Alex..." Arthur had called Merlin twice, and Merlin had called him once. The conversations never really went anywhere, though he wasn't exactly sure why. "I told you, Merlin's visiting his mother. We are not going to bother him on his vacation."

Alex scooted closer to him and tugged at Arthur's arm, "Why don't we ever go on a vacation?"

"I'm busy," Arthur stared up at the ceiling.

"Mr. Hemings is taking his kids to Rome for an entire week," Alex didn't sound too please about that. "And he's even busier than you!"

Arthur really didn't want to have this conversation right here when he was about to sleep, but it was really an inevitable subject. And honestly, Arthur didn't want to tell him that Percival Hemings regarded a week in Rome with more kids than he could handle a vacation because he didn't want to deal with his ex-wives. "Alex...it's not like that."

"What's it like then?" Alex looked at him, "Dad, sooner or later you're going to have to make time for stuff like this."

"I know, Alex."

"Or else Merlin will get tired of waiting for you." Alex flipped over on his stomach, "Night, Dad."

For Merlin, he was almost glad that non-conversations with Arthur really didn't go anywhere. They'd had three of them so far, and their fourth one was just drawing to a close. “You should get some sleep, Arthur.”

“...Do you want to be rid of me that badly?” Arthur sounded amused over the phone, but that couldn’t cover up how exhausted he felt.

“You just sound tired and I worry about you,” Merlin laid the phone on the pillow next to him. “And I’m not around that often so...”

“I noticed,” there was a very, very long pause, so long, that Merlin thought Arthur had hung up on him. Then Arthur said, “...I miss you.”

His ears were probably clogged. The attic hadn’t been cleaned for ages, “Arthur?”

Another long pause, then-- “How’s your mother?”

“Mom’s fine,” Proper Arthur, asking after a woman he didn’t even know, maybe that was one of the things that he liked about Arhur. Merlin took a chance and rolled over on his stomach, “...I told her about you, and Alex.”

Arthur sighed, “You’re one of those good boys who tells his mother everything, right? I should have known.”

“Hey.”

“I’m not saying that’s a bad thing,” Arthur hurried to correct himself. “I’m just...what’d she say about me?”

Merlin had to smile, just a little. “What’d you think she’d say?”

Yet another pause, “That I have too much baggage and she doesn’t want you to see me.” As if what Arthur admitted wasn’t the truth, but an unfortunate lie that he’d been forced to deal with.

“Does my mother seem like that type of person?” Merlin had to laugh at that, “she didn’t say that.”

“Then what did she say, Merlin?”

Merlin was quiet for a moment, “...She uh,” how was he supposed to tell Arthur what his mother said? “Um, actually.”

Arthur’s voice was hard, “What did she say?”

“She said...” Merlin swallowed hard, “she hoped I was making you happy.”

“...That’s what she said?”

“Yeah.”

Merlin could hear Arthur breathing on the other end, “...You do.”

His chest loosened, and Merlin realized that he was wearing a smile that only crazy people wore. Mordred lay on his side on the other cot across the room and looked at him. “...Get off the phone with your boyfriend, Merlin. I’d like to get some sleep.”

“Mordred--”

“Does he want you off the phone?” Arthur asked.

“He’s just jealous because you call me and none of his girlfriends give him the time of the day.” Merlin stuck out his tongue (only because Arthur wasn’t here).

Arthur was laughing, Mordred was swearing, and Merlin caught every other world, regardless, it sounded mostly quite obscene.

“Hey,” Arthur said, “Go to sleep, I’ll call you again.”

“I’m not sure where I should start,” Morgana surveyed Arthur with crossed arms. “That’s a bad thing, I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Arthur said and at the same time, wished he didn’t. “You should start by telling me how pathetic I am, and then you should play the big sister and tell me how to fix things.”

Morgana set a cup of coffee down in front of him, “Well, fine. You’re an idiot to let Merlin go on that vacation of his. And what’re you going to do about Alex’s party? I’m not letting you throw it here, and I really don’t think you want five-year-olds running all over in your house.”

“It’s not like Alex destroys my house,” Arthur felt mostly obligated to defend his son.

“...Yes, but Arthur, Alex lives in your house and he’s your son,” Morgana tapped her nails on the table. “That sort of changes things, if you know what I mean. Just call the skating rink or a pizza place and have them cater it for you. You’ll get off easy that way.”

“Or I can just convince Alex not to have a party,” Arthur mused to his coffee cup.

“What would that prove?”

“Morgana,” Arthur glanced up at his sister. “For once in your life, please be on my side and just tell me straight. I’m asking you for real.”

“And I’m telling you straight,” she said. “I don’t have any answers I can give you, they’re your problems, Arthur, I can’t solve your problems for you.”

That made Arthur a little bit sour, “You know, you make it sound like I never take care of my own problems.”

Morgana sighed, “I hate to break it to you, but you don’t. Think about it, you complain to Merlin, Merlin’s gone, you complain to me. You’re not even responsible for your son half the day. Even Uther paid off your debts, Merlin’s left you so that you don’t have to deal with your feelings so much--”

“I didn’t ask for Uther to handle my debt,” Arthur snapped. “I didn’t ask for Merlin to leave. I’d deal with my problems if someone will give me the opportunity to. And why are you lecturing me?”

She shrugged, “It’s what big sisters do to younger brothers who complain too much.” Morgana said it with a straight face because it was almost always true, “At least people actually try to bend over to do things for you. That’s usually a good thing...I mean, even Uther bent backwards for you.”

“That doesn’t change anything,” Arthur said tersely.

“Uther hates me, I’m too much like him.”

“And he hates me, you get to stay married.”

Morgana touched his arm, “You remind him of Igraine.” She said softly.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” and though it really didn’t mean a damn thing, Arthur knew his voice was shaking anyway, “I mean--he had no right.”

She wouldn’t look at him, “and you’ve been his son long enough to know that it doesn’t matter. Uther aside, Arthur, did it ever cross your mind at all, to ask Merlin to stay?”

“Hey.”

It was a rather dangerous swing that hung on their front porch. It’d broken once or twice and at the moment, the bench looked like it needed a new paint job. The bench also creaked every time Merlin swung it forward.

“I said--”

“Mordred, I don’t want to hear what you have to say. Stop it.”

Mordred crossed his arms, “I’d sit down, but I never did really trust that swing. Is that all you want to do? Mope on the swing and gripe about Arthur?”

“I’m not moping and I don’t gripe about Arthur,” Merlin glared at him. “If you have nothing better to do than speculate about my lack of a love life, go call your girlfriends.”

Mordred shifted from one foot from the other, “Merlin...whether you like it or not, I look up to you. You’re my big brother and that’s what little brothers do. Has it ever occurred to you that I look forward to having what you have?”

For once, Mordred did not amuse him, “Are you telling me you like guys now?” Was there anything Mordred wouldn’t go after? “I don’t have anything, why would you look forward to having what I have?”

“That’s not my point, and no, I don’t. You have Arthur!” Mordred said, “Probably a prick to everyone but you, he takes care of you, and you don’t have to worry so much.”

Merlin glanced at him, “I’m wondering if I still have Arthur.”

“You probably do.”

The bench groaned threateningly beneath them when Mordred sat down. “Mordred, the swing’s going to break again.”

“Who cares?” With a grin, Mordred just shrugged one shoulder at him, “we’ll just fix it again.”

“Is this my party?” Alex blinked at the dining table.

“Yeah,” Arthur’s attempt at a smile was only halfway there. “Happy birthday, Alex.” On the table was a cake, pizza, a pint of chocolate chip ice cream and two wineglasses filled to the brim with root beer. “I hope you like. You also get this birthday crown.” He picked it up and set it on Alex’s head. “I crown you Alexander the Great.”

“Did you name me after him?”

Arthur decided on the truth, “Your mother did.” He admitted.

Alex thought this over, and then he looked up at Arthur again, “...Mom did? What did you want to name me?”

“Herman.”

Alex made a face, “Dad...”

“I didn’t want to name you anything, I liked the name Alexander. Your mom just came up with it so I didn’t think it’s right to take credit for it.” Arthur sat down. “Will you have a seat, Your Highness?”

Alex sat, “So you didn’t want to name me anything else besides Alex?”

“I picked your middle name,” Arthur said. “You’re Alexander Lucas Pendragon.”

This didn’t seem to interest Alex as much, as he gulped half of his root beer, “Was Mom a nice person?”

“Alex...why are you asking me about your mother all of the sudden?”

“I dunno,” Alex shrugged. “It’s my birthday and I thought you might tell me things. Can I start on the ice cream?”

Arthur sighed, perhaps hadn’t been a good idea after all. He was never going to listen to Morgana again, “Well, I still might not tell you depending on what you ask me. What do you want to know?”

“I’m the only kid in class that doesn’t know who his Mom is,” Alex stared at him for a long moment. “That’s depressing.”

“Alex--”

Alex busied himself with a spoonful of ice cream, “Did she ever talk about me?”

For a long moment, Arthur had to remind himself to breathe, his eyes were stinging. “She talked about you all the time. I was at work when you walked for the first time, she wanted me to rush home so I could see you walk.”

“Did you?”

Arthur let out a long sigh and dug a spoonful out of the pint, “I wish I had.” Before the pause became painful, he said, “...There was once, when you wouldn’t go to sleep at all, she wouldn’t sleep either. She sang to you for a long time. Gwen wouldn’t let me take care of you. Both of you slept the whole time the next day.”

Alex put down the spoon, “...Merlin’s not like Mom, is he?”

Well. Obviously. Arthur took a long sip of his root beer, “They have a lot in common.” he admitted.

“Like they both want you to be happy?”

Arthur blinked, “What’s...what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” Alex shrugged. “I want to open my present now--you did get me something, right?”

Happy to be let off the hook, Arthur dug in his pocket for an envelope that was mostly fresh. “Yeah, here you go.”

Alex tore open the envelope and held up three tickets, “...Dad! Are we really going to Disneyland?”

“...Yeah, we’re really going to Disneyland.” Arthur smiled at him, “But first, you’ve got to do your dad this very big favor, hand me a ticket.”

His mother had hired new help since the last time he’d come home. Merlin spent the morning cleaning out one of the sheds with Tommy and his cousin Lee. He learned a couple of things, if he kept busy, he didn’t have that much time to think about what Arthur was doing, and that over the years, his mother had racked up an impressive collection of rakes and brooms.

“Y’know, Mrs. Emrys talks about you all the time.” Lee told him as the three of them basked in the aftermath of their handiwork. (Actually, Mordred was supposed to be cleaning too, except that when work was to be done, his brother had the uncanny ability to make himself scarce to the point of nonexistence altogether.)

“So I guess you know all my secrets, yeah?” Merlin returned easily as he turned towards the door. He probably needed three showers to get the layers of dust and dirt off.

Lee snorted, “That right?”

Merlin shrugged.

Mordred conveniently reappeared when the work was done (usually it happened that way) “Hey, big brother,” he leaned casually against the crooked doorframe, “you’ve got a visitor.”

“If it’s Uncle Maury, tell him to wait until I don’t look like a giant dust ball. I’m almost done here.” Uncle Maury was the crazy old guy that told war stories, he lived one farm over, and Merlin tried to avoid him whenever possible.

“It’s not Uncle Maury, if it was, I don’t think I could have left the house to get you.” Mordred tugged at his arm, “come on, the guys can finish up here.”

“Is it Lara?” Lara was Uncle Maury’s granddaughter.

“If it was Lara, I wouldn’t be here either,” Mordred dragged him towards the door, “I heard she got hot.”

Figured. Merlin just rolled his eyes and let Mordred tow him toward the direction of the house.

It was---it was Arthur. It was Arthur Pendragon sitting on their creaky old couch in a shirt and tie. It was Arthur Pendragon, here. It was Arthur. It was Arthur, smirking at him. Merlin thought his knees were going to give away. (But that sort of thing usually only happened in bad paperbacks.)

“Well, hello to you too.” Arthur was speaking (to Merlin) and Arthur was getting up, walking away from the couch, towards him. “Missed you.”

Merlin’s throat suddenly caught, and his eyes stung. He hid his face in Arthur’s shoulder so that Arthur couldn’t see.

“How much did you miss me?” Merlin’s voice was wobbly, so much so that he might have been embarrassed if he hadn’t been wonderfully distracted by the way that Arthur was kissing him.

“Enough, finally.” Arthur said, and he noted that Arthur’s voice wasn’t exactly steady either. (Not that Arthur would ever really admit to anything.)

Merlin couldn’t think of anything to say. So he just stood there holding on to Arthur’s elbows until Arthur leaned forward and licked at his mouth, “Merlin, you look ridiculous.”

Normally, Merlin would have stepped on his foot for saying something so insensitive. But Arthur was here, kissing him in front of his mother and his brother in his living room, and Arthur missed him enough. Merlin supposed that he couldn’t ask for everything.

A Fortunate Fall (14/18)

raspberry_pop — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 19:16:05 GMT

banner made by toodelicious

Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 5303
Progress: 14/18
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: Sorry for the late update! >.> I got sick and real life kicked in, and I think we all know how that goes. .__.;;
Thanks to Alyse for looking this over!

Previous Chapters found here: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/tag/a+fortunate+fall

--

Now that he thought about it, Arthur supposed it was inevitable. In fact, he felt almost stupid for not expecting it. Uther Pendragon ran one of the most respectable computer companies in Europe—Pendragon Computers (PC for jokes) and it was supposed to be Arthur’s one day, the company literally had his name stamped in gold. It was at times like this when Arthur wondered why he didn't go into publishing or something. Companies at their core were almost practically the same; it wouldn't have made much difference at all except tha Uther would have never found him.

But computers were the one thing that Arthur had really liked to do, and no small amount of teenage rebellion could have flushed that completely out of his system. Sometimes, he wished he could, he'd even tried all sorts of different things in college in faraway New York where Uther didn't have that many pairs of eyes keeping tabs on him. Arthur had been one of those people that the guidance counselors hated because he changed his major every other week.

He had tried everything: from economics, journalism, even biochemistry. He had even been all right at all of those things...but his niche was still where it had been all along. Arthur was Uther Pendragon's only son, after all.

Things had been all right then. They really had been.

And then they suddenly weren't anymore.

“Arthur.”

Merlin's hand hadn't left his arm and Arthur was glad for the anchor that the gesture offered. He glanced over at Merlin. “I...um. We made a scene, didn't we?”

For a moment, Merlin looked uncertain, and then he shrugged, “Honestly, I think that should be the least of your worries at the moment. Are you...okay?”

“I don't know.” He replied, meaning it entirely, “I haven't seen ever since...since three years ago, give or take. It's just a shock. But we already fell out before that.”

He felt Alex tugging at his hand. “...Was that Grandpa?”

“Yes, Alex, it was.”

“Is Grandpa still mad?” Alex peered up at him.

It'd been three years. Arthur shrugged. He didn't have an answer for that. Suddenly, it was like he didn't know anything at all. He was numb, and hollow, and it was only fitting that a father he hadn't heard from in three years drew that kind of reaction from him. But somehow, it seemed three years had passed yesterday, and Arthur felt twenty-seven and stupid again. (Twenty-seven wasn't usually an age that one would associate with stupidity, but Uther Pendragon was something else.)

“Alex.” Merlin was shaking his head at the boy, Alex took the cue and fell silent again. He was holding Arthur's hand so tightly that Arthur couldn't feel his fingers.

He found that he didn't mind that much.

–

They were back at the hotel, Alex hastily excused himself into the bedroom to watch television, and Merlin was secretly glad that Alex was so good at picking up social cues. He watched Arthur mope to the couch, and Merlin felt lost again. First Arthur's wife, now Arthur's father. Even if he had the patience of a saint--

“I haven't seen my father in years.” Arthur spoke, head lolling dangerously against a cushion. “I haven't really thought about him, either. Of course we weren't really speaking before that, so that hardly matters, doesn't it?”

Merlin poured him a glass of water. “And here you are again.” If he sounded more than a little exasperated, it was because he was. “Arthur, it does matter. He's your father. The only one that you'll ever have. And I can't help you unless you start talking to me.”

Arthur sighed heavily.

“I don't hate Uther.”

“But...?” Merlin prompted as he threaded his fingers through Arthur's hair.

“But ever since I can remember, I don't think we've ever agreed on anything. We fought all the time. About everything, who my friends were, what classes I took in school, what I ate.” Arthur gave a dry chuckle. “And after my mother died, I moved out. We were never on very good terms to begin with. I just...didn't want to see him.”

Merlin knew without a doubt that Arthur was lying...or, if he wasn't, he was certainly telling him a generously censored version of what went on. “I'm sorry.” He said.

“I'm not lying.” Arthur said. “You probably think I am.”

Merlin looked at him. He didn't know how a person could look so confident and pathetic at the same time, but Arthur managed beautifully. “I wish...I wish you would tell me. I wouldn't think any different of you.”

“Because you already know that I'm pathetic.”

This was one of those times where Merlin really did want to thwack him. “Yes, you run your own company, you have an adorable kid, and you're probably one of the richest guys in the city. Yeah, you're real pathetic.”

“Merlin...”

Well, if Arthur was so determined to play the tough guy, he'd play the saint. “I really want to hit you, but you'll probably say you deserve it, so I'm not going to. Maybe Uther wants to make it up to you, you know?”

Arthur snorted, “Don't be ridiculous. Just because you're kind and naive doesn't mean everyone else is. He probably thanks that it's going to be fun to ruin my life some more.”

“Arthur, he's your father.”

“He's also Uther Pendragon.” Arthur shot back humorlessly.

Merlin really did want to hit him. But instead, he stood up and left Arthur there on the couch. “Where's your assistant staying? I'll go pick up your notes.” Since he couldn't exactly pry Arthur open with a screwdriver.

“The Sheraton a block away.”

–

Alex was sitting on the bed, watching the History Channel. Most kids his age would whine about their favorite cartoon not being on, but Alex was content with the History Channel. That used to bother Arthur a little, but he had gotten used to it. At least Alex wasn't perusing Dickens ten years early like Morgana had wanted him to.

“Dad.”

Arthur sat on the edge of the bed, “Hey, what are you watching?”

“It's a special on the Revolutionary War.” Alex crawled over to him. “It's not that violent, so don't worry.” His face was scrunched with concern, “You okay now?”

“Yeah...mostly.”

“Where'd Merlin go?”

“He went to pick up my notes for me.”

“Oh.” Alex seemed to mull this over, and then he looked at Arthur again, “Dad? You and Grandpa weren't like me and you when you were growing up, right?”

“Erm.” Arthur looked away. He could barely remember himself at five, almost six, and remembering himself with Uther was near impossible. “Not really, no. I was very close with your grandma.” Because that was easier to say than 'mother', less impersonal, somehow.

“What'd you guys do?”

“Um...well.” He hadn't talked about his mother in ages, in fact, Arthur really didn't talk about his family or his private life at all. Even with his son. “Your grandma liked to paint. She used to paint me, I could never sit still. While she painted, she'd tell me stories.”

Alex sprawled down on the bed, “What kind of stories?”

“I...I don't remember.”

“You don't want to remember, or you don't remember?”

“Alexander.”

Everyone seemed to be thoroughly against him today. Arthur watched his son blow hair out of his eyes. After a moment, Alex said, “You're mad,” he stated simply without looking at him.

“I'm not mad.” Arthur crossed his arms, “Do I sound mad or something?”

“No, not particularly,” Alex shrugged. “...It's just, I've noticed that I have to get you mad in order for you to tell me things.” The boy reached for the remote and flicked off the screen, “What did Grandpa do?”

“Alex. Alex.” Arthur shook his head, he wasn't going to protest that fact (because it was somewhat true) but, “It's not that simple, people don't just do things and then I get pissed—I mean, angry. You wouldn't get it if I explained it to you.”

“Dad--”

“Get what if you explained what to who?” Merlin peeked his head in the door. If Arthur's semi-spat earlier with Merlin put him in a bad mood...he was good at hiding it, as always. “I got your notes. Your assistant must have gone to med school at some point in his life.” He tossed the notepad onto the bed.

“I wasn't explaining anything to anyone,” Arthur said, pointedly ignoring Alex's glare. “...what makes you say that?”

“He's a neat freak.” Merlin flopped down on the bed, “His hotel room looks like it's been sanitized twice. And I can't make heads or tails of his handwriting. It's on the first five pages,” he glanced over at Arthur, “did you ever go to med school?”

Arthur shuddered, “I made it a point to try everything in college. Stopped short of med school. I decided it was going to give me nightmares. I'll puzzle it out later. Let's go have dinner.”

“...Arthur,” Merlin was giving him a disapproving look again.

“I'm fine.”

Merlin sighed, “So you say.”

Arthur cut eyes at him, “I'm not doing this in front of the kid.” He bit out between gritted teeth. “Let's just go.”

–

Arthur was certainly not in a good mood, and Merlin, although he plastered on a smile for Alex's sake, wished that he could make Arthur come down with a miraculous case of amnesia and then everything would be all right. Or perhaps that was too much to ask for. Or maybe he could brainwash Arthur into thinking that it was actually all right to talk about his problems—for once.

Because of course Arthur would think that not talking about his problems, not not bothering other people with them was manly; that it was something he was supposed to do. Probably he'd blame his behavior on the fact that he had simply grown up that way.

That kind of repression couldn't have been healthy for anybody, Arthur included...although he usually conveniently overlooked himself when thinking about the general population. Merlin was pretty sure he was wasting breath if he told Arthur that.

While thinking about that, it was kind of lost on Merlin that a tux clad waiter had shown them to a table at the back. It was every bit as fancy as the Robuchon was, but somehow, their respective worries clouded everything.

“Could the two of you stop being mopey? I can't eat with you two being so omnivorous.” Alex glanced at them.

“Omnivorous?” Arthur glanced at him.

“It means gloomy,” Alex gave his father a look. “Duh.”

“You mean ominous.” Merlin took a sip of his mineral water. He'd developed a liking for it, really, after realizing that Arthur didn't mind him ordering water that cost a lot of money; in fact, Arthur encouraged it. “Ominous is the one that means gloomy. Omnivorous means you eat meat and veggies.”

“...Oh.” Alex looked at once disinterested, “Well, then stop being that. What Merlin just said just now.”

Arthur coughed pointedly into his napkin and got to his feet. “I'm going to the restroom.”

After Arthur had left, Alex crossed his arms, “...Grandpa must have done something awful.” He said, leaning towards Merlin conspiratorially.

That much Merlin knew already, but he looked interested anyway, “What makes you say that?”

“Because...Dad always gets like that whenever something really bothering him. All you have to do though, is make him mad and he'll explode.”

“But Alex, I don't want Arthur to explode.” Merlin said, meaning it entirely. It'd probably be a bitch to clean up and more trouble than it was actually worth. “I honestly don't think you'd like it very much if your dad exploded.”

“Well, if Dad exploded, most likely I'd be stuck with you,” Alex reasoned mildly. "I wouldn't really mind that."

“Or maybe your Aunt Morgana.” Merlin reminded him.

Alex blanched. “...Ngh.”

Merlin reached over and squeezed the boy's hand, “I'm sure your dad just doesn't want us to worry. I'll make him tell me soon. He won't have to explode, either. Things aren't going to get that drastic.”

Arthur took this opportune moment to rejoin them at the table. Alex leaned away from Merlin and focused on his cranberry juice again.

Nobody ate very much, and Merlin thought they offended the waiter.

–

If there was one thing that Arthur really could complain about Merlin, it would be the fact that Merlin made everything his problem. Even things that didn't concern him at all—like Uther Pendragon, and that Arthur really just didn't like talking about his problems. They were Arthur's problems, no one else's, and really; there was almost no point to bother other people with them.

Besides, it wasn't like he didn't know how to deal with his problems, and not knowing about Arthur's problems were certainly not going to kill Merlin.

Merlin was putting away the three boxes of leftovers into the fridge, and Arthur watched his back.

“I wished we had alcohol.” Arthur said.

“You would.” Merlin's voice was devoid of all humor, “Call room service then.”

“I would, but room service doesn't operate after eleven pm.”

“I bet there's a liquor store around here, somewhere,” Merlin shut the fridge and straightened up, “It's Vegas. No one's even asleep, I'll bet everyone's just waking up...I'll go see--”

“Hang on,” Arthur held up a hand, “what the hell are you trying to do? Do you want to get away from me that badly?”

Merlin paused near the door, “I don't know what I'm trying to do. But I think you need some time to yourself. And you're the one that said you wanted liquor.”

“I thought you hate it when I drink.” Arthur looked at him.

“I certainly don't approve of it,” Merlin shrugged rather helplessly. “But since when have you cared about what I think? I mean, it's not my problem, and I don't have any say in whether or not you should drink, Arthur.”

The words stung, more than he'd ever thought they would. Arthur stared at him. “Merlin...you don't know what you're talking about.”

“I wish I did. You should tell me.”

“What would you do if I told you? Would you just kiss me and tell me not to worry about it and that everything's all right?” The words slipped before Arthur could bite off his own tongue. “What good would that even do?”

The silence that followed was a horrible one, it was hollow and deafening. Merlin unlocked the door, “Nothing.” He said, so calmly that it made Arthur's skin crawl, “Absolutely nothing. Happy now?”

Arthur was not. He refused to say so.

–

Sometimes, Arthur Pendragon really pissed him off. The nearest liquor store was only a half block away, but Merlin took his time and he only changed his mind when a half dressed girl who didn't look legal meandered up to him, so dangerously close so that Merlin could see that she wasn't wearing a bra. He ducked quickly into the nearest liquor store.

Arthur probably had a very high tolerance for alcohol...or maybe he was just high functioning while under influence. It was bad to be encouraging habits like these, but it wasn't like Arthur left Merlin any choice, as his employer seemed a lot more pleasant when he was caught unawares.

The cashier took one look at him and sighed as he rang up Merlin's bottles. “You got dumped, huh, kid?”

“I...” For some reason, Merlin found that funny. He laughed, “I look that miserable?”

When he got back to the hotel room, it was well after midnight, but the moment Merlin closed the door, Arthur sat up on the couch.

“What took you so long?”

Merlin would have slammed the bag down on the table for emphasis, but stopped short, as he remembered that Alex was asleep in the bedroom. He settled the bag on the carpet instead, “Went for a walk,” for the first time, Merlin sat in the armchair across from the couch. If Arthur was bothered by his decision, he did a great job of not showing it.

“And how was the walk?”

“Eventful until someone who's not legal showed interest.” Merlin deadpanned.

“Which is why I don't go out at night in Vegas.” Arthur shook his head at him. As if Arthur Pendragon really was the model poster child for all things good and holy.

“Noble of you.”

There was silence. Merlin studied Arthur's face in the dark, and realized that he didn't remember Arthur having so many creases of worry in his skin. Finally, he got up and fetched glasses from the cabinet, popping open a bottle, he filled both glasses to the brim and walked over to the couch. “Here...it probably tastes bad, but you wanted alcohol.”

“Alcohol is never supposed to taste good.”

“Hear, hear, from an alcoholic himself.” Merlin raised his glass mockingly and almost lost his balance when Arthur grabbed at him. He landed on top of Arthur, and there was a fresh stain on one of the cushions.

“I'm not an alcoholic.”

Yes, and Arthur (who was not an alcoholic, thank you very much) had already maneuvered Merlin enough to free his arms so that he could drain half of his glass. But Merlin, having the patience of a saint, stayed his hand. He lay there, his head tucked securely under Arthur's chin, staring at his glass and watching it almost tip.

–

More than an hour later, the liquor was warm in Arthur's stomach, and his mind was delightfully foggy. He didn't think he was completely drunk yet, as he was all too aware of the fact that Merlin had unbuttoned his shirt buttons--although it'd been a while since he'd been honestly drunk, so...

“We should have sex.” Arthur said mildly.

He felt Merlin shift above him, “What...?”

“I said, we should have sex,” Arthur studied Merlin’s face in the dark. “I’m probably going to be drunk enough after another glass.”

“...Arthur,” Merlin righted himself, straddling Arthur’s lap, “I think you’re already drunk enough.”

“Where’re you going?”

“I’m going to curl up on the armchair and go to sleep.” Merlin settled himself into the said armchair, “You know, since we’re flying tomorrow.”

“Is it because you don’t do drunk sex?” Arthur watched him.

“I really didn’t peg you as the type to use sex to numb your problems,” Merlin mumbled into a cushion. “You really do amaze me.” But then, he guessed that it shouldn’t surprising since Arthur found a way to exercise every vice available to him. Sex hadn’t been exactly available before.

“What can I say? I’m an amazing guy.”

Merlin turned away from him, “Actually yeah, you really are. G’night, Arthur.”

Arthur must have been thoroughly drunk, because he didn’t complain about Merlin’s answer at all.

When Merlin woke, he found himself tangled uncomfortably in the armchair, and the couch was empty. The glasses that had been left there on the table were gone too. Arthur was unexpectedly productive when he was hungover, Merlin had to give him that much. He uncurled himself from the armchair and stretched out on the floor.

“Merlin!”

Merlin blinked once, Alex’s face loomed worriedly over him, Merlin smiled at him. “Hey, morning. Where’s your dad?”

“Dad went down to the convention to say goodbye to some people.” Alex shrugged. “He said his left you a note on the fridge.”

Well...that was also surprising, that Arthur would be thoughtful enough to leave a note for him, even when he was hungover. It took Merlin several tries to get up from the carpet, but finally, he ambled over to the fridge where there was indeed a piece of hotel stationary tacked there.

Arthur’s handwriting certainly looked drunk.

Merlin:

Gone down the convention for some last-minute business. Can you make sure everything’s packed up to go?

The note lacked a thank you, and it lacked a signature. Typical Arthur. Merlin crumpled the note and chucked it in the trash. “In other words, pick up after you...sometimes I wonder why I bother.”

“Are you mad at Dad?” Alex asked helpfully.

“Not mad,” Merlin admitted. “Just a little annoyed. Come on, you can help me pack up the suitcases.”

“Okay!”

Thank goodness for Alex. He probably took Merlin’s warning about not growing up like Mordred to heart. Since it was a weekend trip and they didn’t have much luggage, it only took a couple of minutes to get everything in order.

“So I guess...there’s nothing to do but watch television until Dad comes back.” Alex jumped on the couch.

“...Yeah.” Merlin really didn’t feel like doing anything, except going home, going to sleep. Alex crawled into his lap.

They settled on a movie about whales on the Discovery Channel, and were about fifteen minutes into that when there was a loud rap on the door. Merlin started.

“Alex, did your dad forget his card key?” After all, Arthur was not quite sober, so that became a possibility.

“He took it with him this morning because I reminded him, so no.” Alex shook his head.

“I wonder who it is then,” Merlin mused, mostly to himself as he got up. “Might be a cleaning maid.” He unlocked the door and it beeped.

“I was hoping to see my son, is he here?”

Uther Pendragon was not wearing the same blue suit he had been wearing the previous morning, but Merlin remembered his face from the way that Arthur had paled, and the elderly man looked no less imposing in gray. “Uh...Arthur is not here at the moment,” it took Merlin a moment to collect his wits. “He went down to the convention, erm, Mr. Pendragon.”

Uther Pendragon looked unconvinced. Merlin swallowed rather painfully, and almost wished that Arthur was here so that he could be the target of intense scrutiny instead. He’d gone to sleep in the clothes that he he’d worn yesterday, and Merlin had a sinking feeling that all the wrinkles that the shirt had was probably coming back to haunt him.

Alex peered around Merlin’s legs, “...Grandpa?”

Uther Pendragon’s stern face resembled something that was not so threatening for the first time. “Alexander, I never thought you’d be here. How are you doing?” His voice was probably not used to sounding so kind, it cracked.

At first, the boy looked uncertain, but then Alex shrugged, “Okay. School got out, so Dad brought me.”

“I was hoping that Arthur would have better sense than to bring you to Vegas.” Uther muttered.

Merlin spoke before he could think better of it, “...Arthur was working the whole time, I looked after Alex.”

“And you would be?”

“Uh,” Merlin hesitated a moment, deciding in his own best interests to speak to his feet, no wonder Arthur was so intimidating when he set his mind to it. “Um, I’m Merlin Emrys...I work for Arthur, sort of,” at the moment, he also served other purposes, but it was probably in Arthur’s best interests if Uther Pendragon didn’t know about them.

“...Sort of?” Uther Pendragon raised an eyebrow and Merlin flinched.

“I mean, I work for him, but I don’t really have a title or anything...” Merlin faltered.

“...Dad?”

Merlin had never been so happy to hear Arthur’s voice coming up from the hallway, When Uther stepped away from the doorway, Merlin let out a breath that had been stuck in his throat.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” There was obvious spite in Arthur’s voice.

“A father can’t even see his own son?” Said Uther, who really didn’t looked that surprised at Arthur’s tone.

“I wonder,” Arthur was the one that sounded skeptical this time. He stepped into the hotel room, planting himself firmly between Merlin and his father, “What exactly prompted this?”

“Arthur--”

“I’m well,” Arthur said. “Rather, as well as you’d let me be. Which, surprisingly enough, does turn out to be very well. Sorry to disappoint you.” His hand tightened over Merlin’s on the doorknob, “I really have nothing to say to you. If you’ll excuse me.”

Merlin watched as the door closed in Uther’s face.

“It’s okay to leave it like that?” Merlin asked him later, when Arthur sprawled out face down on his bed. “It’s your dad.”

“As much as I’d like to think otherwise,” Arthur hauled himself up enough to drop his face on a pillow. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

“Wasn’t aware that there was sides.” Merlin sank down on the bed and settled his head against Arthur’s back, “but seriously.”

Arthur was silent for a long moment, “But seriously, you should find another hobby besides being a mother hen, Merlin? It gets old,” he sighed. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”

“What the hell?” Mordred demanded as the box of unopened condoms dropped unceremoniously on top of his head. “...Oh.”

“I didn’t use them, so I’m giving them back.” Merlin said dryly, “I don’t want you to run out.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying.”

“Not implying anything, just saying.” Merlin dropped his bag of dirty clothes on the bed, “I really don’t know what the hell’s going one anymore.”

“What’s wrong with him now?” Mordred looked at him blandly.

“I don’t even know.” Merlin paused, “...I met his old man.”

“And?”

“Arthur’s going to be pretty scary when he’s sixty, that’s all; if his old man is of any indication.” Merlin kicked the bag off of the desk and curled up on his bed, “order pizza. I don’t feel like cooking.”

Arthur Pendragon wasn’t the type to expect too much from life. Early on, he’d learned that good things didn’t last...everything came back to bite you in the ass when you least expected it. Uther’s appearance was almost expected along this vein.

“Why the long face?” Margaret glanced at him, “I thought the convention was a success.”

“It was.”

“So what’s the problem?”

She followed him into his office and stood in the doorway, “There’s not really, actually. I can’t be in a bad mood?”

Margaret tilted her head, “Well, you’re always in a bad mood, it’s just recently...you’ve changed. So I just thought...”

“I met somebody at the convention,” Arthur said, sounding purposely vague. “And I’m still a bit pissed off about it.”

“Consider today your lucky day, then,” Margaret smiled vaguely and slid a file in front of him, “Happy birthday.”

“It’s not my birthday.” Arthur settled himself into his chair.

“It might as well be,” Margaret said, “...Take a look, you might like what you see.”

“You know, I hired you because you actually spoke proper English and told me what I liked to hear,” Arthur sighed, reaching for the file. “Please don’t make me regret my decisions, Margaret.”

“I thought you had more faith in me than that,” Margaret tapped her heels against the floor, “you can’t say you aren’t curious?”

Arthur was, but he didn’t really feel like letting Margaret in on that quite yet. It wasn’t everyday she sounded so optimistic, it wasn’t just him.

He picked up the file and flipped it open, “...What the hell?”

“I thought you’d be happy.”

Arthur wasn’t, he was horrified. Shocked beyond words. He was pretty sure his hands were shaking.

“I...”

“Arthur?”

“Are you trying to tell me,” Arthur said, “that’s a good thing that Uther Pendragon of Pendragon Computers paid all of CamSoft’s debts?”

“You mean, you don’t know?” Margaret looked surprised, “Over the phone, he sounded like he knew you well.”

Arthur’s head was spinning a hundred miles a minute. Uther Pendragon had paid his debts, for the first time in thirty years, his father had done something genuinely kind...it wasn’t half-assed, either. Arthur’s company wasn’t doing badly, but they had incurred a sizable amount of debt. Kaye had told him that they’d break even by early next year, maybe February, March, at the latest, by April.

Money was never a problem for Uther Pendragon. The last time Arthur had bothered to check, his father owned three houses on two different continents and a yacht.

“Arthur?”

“Yeah, he should know me very well,” Arthur couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of his voice. He didn’t look at Margaret either. “I’m Uther Pendragon’s son, Margaret.”

“You’re his son?” Margaret practically gawked at him.

Arthur gave her a long look, “Surprises me too, sometimes,” he told her dryly. “Pick up your jaw and get me some coffee.”

To a Wild Rose (2/3)

raspberry_pop — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 06:13:09 GMT

Title: To a Wild Rose
Category: Merlin © BBC
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin, bit of Gwen/Lancelot
Genres: AU/Angst/Romance/Historical(ly inaccurate .__.)
Rating: PG-13/PG-16 at the most
Progress: 2/3
Wordcount: 4590
Summary: Victorianesque—Arthur Pendragon, Marquess of Harington flees to his country estate for a well-deserved summer holiday. However, there is no rest for the weary, as Arthur finds out that his new stable boy Merlin, is socially inept but helplessly captivating, and that his mansion just might be haunted by a secret his father struggles to hide.

Notes: for the kinkme_merlin prompt: 19th century AU. Arthur as the lonely child of a rich lord, Merlin as the new stableboy. Bonus points for UST and needy fumblings in empty rooms of the ~deserted~ mansion.

Thanks to anna_zee for being a wonderful beta!

Part I here: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/5261.html#cutid1

Chapter 2: A Magician's Secrets

“Why do you not like the house?”

It was Arthur's third week at Chatsworth, and he supposed that he had made some progress. During his stay, he'd written Princess Maria a full piece of parchment, describing the house. It was probably not as grand as the castle she lived in, but he was sincere when he wrote that he wished she could be here to see it. It had been a week without rain, and that alone put him in ridiculously good spirits. He wrote about that too.

He didn't write about the face that watched him every night whilst he slept, and he didn't mention the fact that his stable boy deserved a good thwack on the head. Merlin called him 'Marquess', but made it sound like a damn insult every time the title rolled off his tongue.

In that respect, there was no progress. None whatsoever.

Merlin was mucking out a stall while Arthur watched. “Because, Marquess, I just don't.” He paused to look up from his work. “Must I need a reason?”

“Why must you be so vile to me?” Arthur asked, with arms crossed. “I've done nothing to you. You could at least try to be a little bit pleasant.”

Merlin said nothing.

“...Is it because the house is haunted?” Arthur asked. He was of the opinion that ghosts certainly didn't exist, but perhaps Merlin would be of a different opinion. No, Merlin would most likely be of a different opinion because he consistently disagreed with Arthur on everything possible.

Merlin flinched.

“You saw, Marquess?”

Arthur straightened up. There was no ghost, but judging by Merlin's reaction, he definitely thought there was one, “Yes, I saw,” he said with a nod. “Every night he comes to me and he watches me. Even when I latch my door.”

“Latched doors don't mean anything to ghosts, Marquess. You of all people should know that very well.”

“What do you mean me of all people?” Arthur demanded. “What have I done?” He would have shook Merlin if he hadn't reeked so obnoxiously of horse manure.

To which Merlin just shrugged, “Perhaps you haven't done anything, but the ghosts don't know that.” His lips curled in a faint smile.

“There are no ghosts.” Arthur crossed his arms again. “It's probably just someone's idea of a joke.”

“So says the youngest person living in the house. Your logic's a bit crass, Marquess. Somehow, I expected better of you. You've had schooling, of course. Probably the best the Duke could give you.” Merlin raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

It was not a good feeling, being told he was stupid. “You--” Arthur bit his lip. “It's better than blaming everything on a ghost who doesn't exist.”

“So the ghost doesn't exist,” Merlin sounded superbly amused. “Even if you've seen him with your own eyes, every night. Else why would he come and watch you?”

“Well, obviously they don't.” Arthur turned away from him, “I'm going for a ride. Where's Laurent?”

“Turn right, the third stall.” Merlin waved his hand vaguely. “If you'd like to ride into the woods, I'll join you.”

Merlin rode bareback, and Arthur had to admit he had good form. His horse was a gentle brown mare that Arthur didn't think suited him very well (considering what he knew of Merlin). But perhaps Gaius was right, Merlin was better with horses than he was with people. Arthur started Laurent at a slow clop. It was a little awkward, because he was used to riding alone, and better company could be desired.

Still, Merlin wasn't so bad if he was quiet. In fact, Arthur could almost venture to say that he was pleasant.

“You look like you've never rode with a saddle before.”

“I haven't,” Merlin shook his head. “I don't think Rhys would wear a saddle willingly, at any rate. I barely convinced him to wear a bit.”

“I thought Gaius said you had a way with horses.” Arthur remarked mildly.

“I don't force him to do anything he doesn't like, Marquess.”

Arthur bit his lip, but stayed wisely silent. They'd rode into the woods now, and he fell back a little to let Merlin take the lead. Laurent whinnied at this, as if he was displeased.

“Merlin.”

Merlin glanced back at him, “I love it here,” he said unexpectedly, “I come here to avoid your father, the Duke.”

“...My father?”

“He's come before, you know.” Merlin smiled a little smile to himself, “He knows well not to follow me here, as I'm the only one that knows these woods.”

Arthur saw an opportunity. He took it, delicately. “Has my father ever...come here with company?”

“Of the most despicable sort,” Merlin shuddered. “Duchess Caroline Cavendish. Lady Josephine Henry. Are they your father's mistresses?”

“I'd rather not know that.” Arthur privately shuddered along with him, except that he was disciplined enough to hide it. Duchess Cavendish and Lady Henry were both aristocrats with plenty of what his father liked best—wealth. But how Uther Pendragon could have possibly overlooked the snag that both of them had husbands...that remained to be seen.

For once, Merlin agreed with him. “Me too.”

It felt nice and Arthur almost made the mistake of smiling at him.

“Your father could see the ghost, you know.” Merlin glanced at him. “Of course, just like you, he insisted that the ghost didn't exist.” He nudged his horse's side. “Let's go back, Gaius will have my head if I don't have you back in time for lunch.”

This was the second time that Merlin had mentioned Gaius doing him bodily harm. But he put that aside for a moment. Arthur turned Laurent around and rode beside Merlin this time, instead of behind him. “My father could see the...ghost?” He asked, before he could help himself.

Merlin's mouth twitched, “I thought you said there was no ghost, Marquess.”

–

“I heard you spent all morning riding with the stable boy.” Lancelot closed the door quietly behind him. “How was it?”

Arthur nibbled listlessly on a biscuit. “He still hates me, but I think we're making progress.”

“You sound optimistic,” Lancelot said, sinking into a cushioned chair. “That's refreshing.”

“Thank you, I think.” Arthur glanced towards the window. “I need your honest opinion.”

“Are you chasing a lost cause with the stable boy?” Lancelot tilted his head, “Yes, both Gwen and I think so. We're your voice of reason, you know.”

Arthur rubbed at his forehead, “Sometimes, you two are a little too reasonable. I like to dream. There's just something about him.” He shook himself quickly, “But it's not that...it's about the ghost.”

“What ghost?”

“You know,” Arthur waved his hand, “the one that I keep telling you about.”

“Where you thought it was me?” Lancelot blinked at him, “I don't see the big deal about this, Arthur...a ghost is a ghost. It floats around. It's not going to hurt anyone. At least, I don't think.”

“So you can see it then?”

“Of course not, I'm just saying...if there really was.” Lancelot looked at him, like Arthur had gone a little bit insane. And maybe his young master had, with the stable boy to turn his head. “I'll stand guard outside your room tonight, Arthur.”

“Merlin says my father could see it.” Arthur mused idly as he stood up.

“And Merlin hates you,” Lancelot reminded him kindly. “Which probably means he's not telling the truth. Honestly, we'd hear about it if the Duke of Devonshire was seeing things.” He too, got up and walked over to where Arthur stood. “I think you're in need of a very long nap. And I really don't think it's wise to be in his company for too long. You're starting to sound a little insane.”

“Merlin's not making me insane,” Arthur protested, “He's just...” and then he faltered.

Lancelot looked at him with pitying eyes, “I'll fetch you some mead.” He said.

–

It only took Arthur a little while to find the stable this time, so Merlin's plate of leftovers was not ice cold, but lukewarm by the time he got there. It took him another few moments to find the winding staircase that led up to Merlin's loft. One thing that hadn't changed throughout the week was that the stable was always silent.

Arthur wondered how Merlin could stand it. Granted, the stable wasn't as big as the house itself, but even with Gwen and Lancelot to talk to, everything seemed to swallow him up. He couldn't even begin to imagine having no one to talk to. Maybe the ghost didn't even come here, which was why Merlin felt safe.

The door to Merlin's room wasn't exactly closed, and Arthur almost dropped the plate.

Merlin was stooped by his bucket completely naked, running a wet cloth over his pale chest. He was so pale that Arthur thought he practically glistened. His clothes were in a pile by the trunk near his bed. Arthur quickly averted his eyes.

“Merlin, for these types of activities, you should at least close the door.” Arthur mumbled red-faced to the floor.

Merlin did not look all that shocked to see him, dipping the cloth into the bucket again after fixing Arthur with a long look, “If anything, I think you should stop dropping in unannounced, Marquess. If I don't leave my door open to let the air in, the loft will reek.”

Arthur refused to look up. “Still...”

“If you would, Marquess, don't enjoy yourself too much. I'll be decent in a couple of minutes.”

–

But the warm flush in Arthur's cheeks would not go away, even long after Merlin was decently clothed. He sat on Merlin's bed, watching Merlin pick at his food. They sat close enough so that their knees touched, but Arthur doubted that Merlin noticed.

“Merlin.”

Merlin chewed delicately on a piece of sausage. “Yes?”

“Does the ghost ever come here?”

“For someone who thinks ghosts don't exist...” Merlin smirked faintly at him, “I don't understand you at all, Marquess. But for your question, yes. He does, often.”

“I don't think I'm that hard to figure out.” Arthur told him truthfully as he set a friendly hand on Merlin's shoulder. “You're the one that's determined as ever to give me headaches.”

“Do I really?” Merlin's smirk slipped a little. “But you have everything, Marquess.” For the first time, he looked forlorn, alone, almost ashamed. “A ghost that people don't even believe in, that's all I have.” He stood up, and put the plate of food (once again half eaten) on top of the trunk. His steps seemed uncertain and heavy, like an old man's.

“I don't think I have everything.” Arthur spoke idly to the ceiling.

“When the Duke passes then.” Merlin laid down again, “You'll have this house, and then you'll have everything.”

Arthur glanced at him, “I also have to become the king of Spain. You forget that,” he added dryly. “I'm betrothed to a Princess.”

Merlin's lips twitched just slightly as he tilted his head. “With such high aspirations, I fail to see how trying to make nice with me is productive. I'm certainly not going to get you the Spanish throne. Hopefully, your darling princess will procure that for you. Is it Princess Cristina?”

“Do you have a problem with me trying to be nice to you?” Arthur had to ask after a very belated pause. It was a question worth asking. “And no, it's not. It's her sister Maria.”

Merlin shrugged. “You don't know what you're asking me,” he evaded, turning his face away from Arthur. “And Maria's too old for you.”

That Arthur did not expect. When he looked over, Merlin had curled himself into a ball again. The mattress was lumpy in some places, and thoroughly uncomfortable, but it was all right after a while and Arthur was certainly spoiled. He lay there staring at Merlin's back.

“Sure it is. It's a simple question. Are you jealous of Princess Maria, Merlin?”

“I'm not jealous.” Merlin, if not jealous, did certainly sound miffed. “...I'm just saying she's old.”

“The whole of Spain would be appalled.” Arthur said.

“Lucky me, you're hardly the whole of Spain, Marquess.” Merlin rolled around to look at him, and their faces suddenly too close, Merlin's eyes were too bright, like two blue moons shining in the dark.

“I don't understand you, Merlin.”

“You're not meant to, Marquess.” For the first time, Arthur saw Merlin smile, shy, uncertain. Captivating. “You don't even believe.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your world, Marquess, it's an unforgiving one. It's full of useless wealth, people masquerading their true intentions. You'll one day marry a Princess, perhaps become the king of Spain. Crowns are heavy, you might break your neck. Your world will never allow you to be like this ever again.”

Arthur barely registered that Merlin had closed the distance between their faces and was tracing a finger along Arthur's cheekbone. It was certainly not the first time that Arthur had been touched like this, but this was the first time his spine shivered. “My world sounds pathetic,” he said. He didn't really think so, but Merlin needed this answer to keep going, Arthur thought.

“Because it is,” Merlin said.

“What's in your world, then?” Arthur reached for Merlin's other hand. To his surprised, Merlin's thin fingers curled readily around his own.

“There's this blasted house. The horses, this godforsaken room, Gaius.” Merlin took his hand away from Arthur's face, “There's the ghost, too--” He broke off abruptly.

“There's something else too, isn't there?”

Merlin shifted his eyes.

“I can't stand you, but there's you, Marquess.”

Arthur had to blink twice, but his cheeks flamed before his mouth could react.

“Oh.”

Merlin's lips were too red, too close. It was as if time had stopped, when he tilted his head a little to lick at Arthur's mouth. After Arthur recovered from the initial shock, he cupped a hand under Merlin's jaw, feeling the merest hint of stubble prickling at his skin. Perhaps he'd wanted this too, all along, the world that held him prisoner did not allow him to ask for it. Maybe that was what Merlin meant.

Merlin made a little sound in his throat, it sounded a lot like 'move' and Arthur moved, even though he was unsure of how to move. But somehow, Merlin had him pressed against the wall.

“I...”

Arthur found one arm curled around Merlin's neck and Merlin had his other hand in a death grip—hard enough for him to feel his bones cracking.

Merlin's world was one that Arthur knew nothing about. But still, that didn't make the world any less tantalizing and he was already halfway lost within the labyrinth of come-hither eyes and a serpent tongue.

“Merlin, Merlin...it's all right.” Arthur kissed his cheeks and his throat, soothing a scar that he couldn't see. And suddenly, Merlin was limp against him. Arthur guided his head to the lumpy pillow and smoothed back his hair. “It's all right.”

Merlin looked at him, his face very pale. “Marquess...”

Arthur laid a finger on Merlin's bruised lips. “Arthur. I want to be Arthur now.”

“Arthur.” Merlin spoke his name, tasted it as if it was the name of a god. “You should go. The ghost...it will be angry with you if you don't leave my room.”

“Does the ghost...ever hurt you?” Arthur asked him.

“No, not me.” Merlin shook his head, “He'll never hurt me. But you...he hates you. You and your father both.”

“So the ghost is like you.” Actually, that was a possibility. He only saw a shadow of a face, he never saw the face. “Merlin, are you the ghost? Do you play the ghost because you don't have the courage to kiss me?”

“Marquess...” Merlin was horrified. “No! I'd never...”

That was the first time Merlin sounded remotely human. Arthur pressed a kiss to his temple and left in a daze. He still didn't understand Merlin, at all.

–

Lancelot and Gwen sat outside of his door on the floor, munching on a tray of strawberry tarts. Arthur paused at the top of the stairs, looking only partly scandalized, “...What's all this?”

“We're going to see if we can nab the ghost once and for all tonight.” Gwen informed him cheerily between tarts. “Are you going to join us--” She paused and then looked at him. “...Arthur, you've been at the stables again, haven't you?”

“I...erm.” He thought about lying. Was very nearly tempted, but finally nodded, “Yes, I was.”

“You should at least try to hide it a little.” She said, and Lancelot almost choked. Gwen hit him, and Arthur slid down against the wall next to them.

“Gwen--”

“Arthur, he's a stable boy,” she said, sounding very much like the mother he would have had, had she lived. “A stable boy that's not quite right in the head, not to mention. If it'd been a chambermaid...”

“Then I think Lancelot would have my head, quite certainly,” Arthur glanced over at his butler.

Lancelot gave him a look. A half joking look, but still a half dangerous look.

“See?”

Gwen crossed her arms, “Arthur, you know perfectly well what I'm talking about.”

“It's just for the summer,” Arthur said, wondering if he was being truthful or not. “When I get back to London...things will probably be different. He might be the ghost.”

He reached for another tart, and the three of them fell silent.

–

Lancelot and Gwen were both asleep, tumbled all over each other and Lancelot had a snore that could rock the dead. Arthur wondered how Gwen stood it. The strawberry tarts were long gone, and Arthur amused himself picking crumbs from the plate. Perhaps Merlin was the ghost after all.

He was bleary-eyed with sleep when the shadow floated up to him. For the first time, Arthur saw the shadow's face, it looked morose, lonesome.

“Why are you haunting this house?” The words slipped from his mouth in a whisper.

The ghost tilted his head.

“Why are you haunting me? Why do you hate my father?”

The ghost put one finger against his lips. Arthur flinched; he didn't feel any skin, but an ice cold gust of wind.

The ghost was gone.

–

“The ghost touched me.”

Merlin barely glanced at him, “So?”

“The ghost touched me.” Arthur said again.

“Marquess...” Merlin walked up to him and pressed him up against one of the wooden beams, “Ghosts can't touch people. So I'm not the ghost.”

“I know.”

Merlin paused. “You do...?”

“I saw his face. It wasn't yours.”

–

Uther dropped by unannounced the next week. He had company with him, a Lady Helen Cornwallis, who was really too nice to hang on his father's arm, or so Arthur thought. There was also the obligatory army of servants. The house felt stifled—even with a hundred rooms. And Arthur was glad that he wasn't in Italy with Lady Morgana and the handsome Lord Whitaker He kept waiting for Uther to leave, but it seemed that his father had no intention of doing so. Gaius's face was drawn and taut, and Merlin seemed to have a sixth sense about his father's presence because he hadn't been by the kitchen for days.

“And where do you think you're going?”

Arthur flinched. Uther had probably come down to yell at the cooks for not sending up the right bottle of mead to his quarters, but his father always had abysmal timing.

“...To the stables,” he said. “My stable boy hasn't eaten.”

Uther looked properly scandalized, “Arthur, he is a stable boy,” his tone was entirely unlike Gwen's, harsh and chastising. “You're to be Duke of Devonshire. This...is treason.”

“And this is Chatsworth, in the country, in the middle of nowhere,” Arthur told him, “Merlin needs to eat too...even if you hate him.” That part he hadn't meant to say, but apparently, it had an effect on Uther. His father's face paled ghastly white. It was a sight he savored, and then he slipped out into the night.

He found the stable when the food was still warm. Merlin's door was not closed, but unlike that one memorable time, he was decent.

“Arthur.”

“Sorry...I haven't been able to come that often.” Arthur offered him the plate. “My father is here. With company.”

“Ah. Who is it this time?”

“Lady Helen Cornwallis.” Who was a widow. So that wasn't so bad, but still, Arthur felt sorry for her. He laid down beside Merlin on the bed. “I think my father is scared of you.”

“...Is he?” Merlin looked mildly interested as he picked at his food, “I wonder why.”

“You probably know why,” Arthur said dryly, picking a piece of potato off of Merlin's plate.

Merlin shrugged, “I know magic.”

Arthur looked at him. “What?”

“I know magic.” Merlin repeated dismissively, “Your father knows that. He also knows that he's indebted to me. And he probably hates it that you bring me dinner.”

Arthur's mind was spinning a mile a minute, but it still came down to: “You...you know magic.”

“Very old magic.” Merlin said, “And only a little. But magic nonetheless.”

Magic. Arthur had read about it in numerous books. The world they were in now, there was no room for magic. Magic knew that, and had faded away. It was a wondrous phenomenon: historians revered it, scholars were puzzled by it, scientists hated it. It was unexplainable...and it just was. It was surreal, having Merlin tell him that he knew magic.

“...Can you show me?”

Merlin dropped his fork. “Your hand, Arthur.”

Arthur felt his hand settle between Merlin's own. His fingertips tingled, and then there was a flash of brilliant gold. An orb danced up to the ceiling and out of Merlin's window. Arthur just stared.

“This...isn't a circus trick.”

“Of course it isn't. It's also why I can see the ghost.” Merlin let go of his hand, “There are more ghosts, but this is the one that you can see. Ghosts are souls...the souls of people who have been wronged. Until they have somehow made peace with the world that betrayed them, they can't move on.”

“Did my father kill the ghost?” Arthur asked softly, “That's why I can see it, right? I'm his son.” Although most times he wished he weren't.

There was a brief pause, “Yes.”

“Did you know him?”

There was no answer, but Merlin tangled their legs together under the ratty covers and buried his face in Arthur's shoulder. “I saw him die.”

–

Uther did a very wise thing and did not ask Arthur about the stable boy again. The one time he did go for a ride with Lady Helen, he didn't say a single word to Merlin--Arthur had asked him about it. Of course his father and Lady Helen stayed clear of the woods, and they brought a picnic with them to eat by the river.

Uther had never done that with him or his mother.

And by the end of the week, Uther had his entourage of servants pack up his trunks and then he left. He spoke very little, and Arthur realized that he was carrying a limp. A rather noticeable one. Unfamiliar to the role of the caring son, the conversation had gone something like this:

“Father, you're limping.”

Uther had looked at him balefully.

“That's just your imagination.”

Arthur wanted to mention the ghost, to ask who Uther had killed, who he had wronged. But Uther was an old man, set in his ways, and Arthur knew that Chatsworth House was not exactly devoid of riding crops.

But the riding crops were all in the stable, and Merlin probably didn't let Uther near them. “I'm a little too old to be imagining things, don't you think?”

“You must be drunk, then,” said Uther, wincing painfully as he swung on his horse.

Arthur looked at him. “I'm not drunk. Besides, I don't think my imagination would be so persistent and imagine things that even you can see.”

“What are you talking about?” Uther narrowed his eyes.

“I'm talking about the ghost,” Arthur said boldly. “Merlin said you could see it because you killed him.” He wasn't as surprised as he could have been, at the fact that his father had killed someone. “I can see it because I'm your son.”

“And your head is just turned because of a stupid stable boy. That's the end of it.” Uther snapped disgustedly. He whirled off in a huff and Arthur watched him go. His father's face had been...ghostly pale.

–

“Uther limped,” Merlin said calmly that night as they lay together on his bed. “didn't he?”

“You...”

“Not me. I'd never hurt him.” Merlin shook his head, “Although sometimes I wish I could.” He had a bit of magic in his hand and Arthur watched it dance in circles on his palm. “But Old Magic's like that, once you've saved a man's life, you can't harm him. You're bound to him for the rest of his life. He can't harm me either.”

“If not you, then who?”

“The ghost.”

“But the ghost can't touch anything,” Arthur protested. “you said so yourself.”

Merlin shrugged again. He was sleepy, and his breathing was already starting to slow down, his leg rubbing lazily along Arthur's thigh.

“Wait...wait a minute. Are you saying that you're bound to my father by magic for the rest of his life?” Arthur couldn't even begin to imagine.

“No, just that I can't hurt him.” Merlin glanced at him. “What a horrible fate that would be. To be bound to Duke Pendragon.”

Emboldened by this, for he really did agree wholeheartedly with Merlin, Arthur asked, “Would it be not so horrible a fate if you were bound to me, then?”

“Maybe.” Merlin didn't exactly look at him as he answered, “I'd have to save your life first.”

–

Later, Arthur went to Uther's room, clear across the house—because he probably didn't want to remember how their summers used to be. It was a huge magnificent bedroom, even bigger than the one that Arthur had been offered the first night.

The room was spotless, except for the splotches of dried blood on the white sheets.

5 Questions Meme =)

raspberry_pop — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 03:51:58 GMT

With Questions from babydracky and bedamn

♥ Leave me a comment saying Merlin ate my brain (because it most likely has? ^_^)
♥ I'll respond by asking you five questions so I can get to know you better.
♥ Update your journal with the answers to the questions.
♥ Include this explanation in the post and offer to ask other people questions

For babydracky

1.) Have you a favorite actor/actress?
Can I really choose just one? Really? Because I have lots and high school film courses have totally made me into a movie geek. My favorite actor at the moment would be Patrick Wilson for his role in Phantom of the Opera, and favorite actress would be a Korean television actress named Song Hye-Kyo for her role in the drama Full House.

2.) Do you remember something that really scares you?

I went to an amusement park recently with some friends, and my glasses fell off. I'm absolutely blind without my glasses...so that was pretty scary. I managed to step on them before they flew out of the coaster though xD.

3.) What do you think about Mordred's character?
Hmm...I've never really thought about it before. But Mordred in the more popular Arthurian lore is a tough character to like, at least, I've never liked him. I think BBC took a very interesting road making Mordred a kid and a druid because in the one episode that he does show up, I was actually given a chance to like him, so that's good. Of course I'm looking forward to more of him in season two =)

4.) What are you studying or want to?
I'm starting college in the fall! I'm definitely excited for that. I'll probably major in Political Science with a minor in film.

5.) Imagine you met Merlin's dragon, what would you ask him?
Well...I'd probably freak out first. But after that, I'd probably ask him to read Merlin/Arthur fanfiction and take pictures of his reaction. haha.

For bedamn

1.) Why did you choose the name raspberry_pop?
I have no idea. It was really late at night and I wanted something cute. (Although it might have just been a lapse of logic because a fruit soda's not that cute...)

2.) What's your greatest ambition in life/at the moment (for those of us who might recycle priorities on our ambitions like Thursday's morning paper)?
It's a short-term ambition, but I have to go to a wedding in spike heels in a week. I hope I won't die when I trip and fall. Wish me luck!

3.) How do you name your stories? (like, does the name come first, does it reflect to you what's within it, are you generally inspired from outside sources like quotes or particularly beautiful words?)
It honestly depends...if I feel strongly enough about a story, then I'll probably name what I see in it. But if I don't really feel a title, then I'll go look up quotes and poems.

4.) Are there tops & bottoms in your pairings or are you an equal opportunity/swap shipper?
Depends on the fandom. For the Merlin fandom, I'm an equal opportunities gal =) So many possibilities to go around!

5) What's your favourite accessory/article of clothing?
I love rings and necklaces...which is sort of bad since I'm a violinist and those things get in the way...>.>

A Fortunate Fall (13/18)

raspberry_pop — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 02:37:51 GMT

banner made by toodelicious Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 6403
Progress: 13/18
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: This chapter somehow grew out to be a monster on its own. o.O. Sorry for the long wait, everyone! Love love for all your comments and support!!

Previous Chapters found here: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/tag/a+fortunate+fall

--

As the next few days passed, blending easily into the guise of a week, Merlin had to keep pinching himself because things were a little too perfect. It had been a little over a week and his life had just floated. At least Mordred didn't give him a lecture on how freaked out he was again. But things were. They were pretty fucking fantastic and Merlin had to keep pinching himself. It had hurt every time, and it was real.

“If you keep pinching yourself, you're going to get bruises.” Arthur remarked mildly as he reached for his cup of soda.

“Sorry...” Merlin rubbed his arm where he had pinched it. “It's just a little surreal, you know? I even lured you out for lunch, and I think that's a general improvement.”

“For future reference, I hate burger joints, and stop pinching yourself. I'm not going to go away. Even if you wanted me to.” Arthur looked down at his burger, “Moreover, am I supposed to eat this? It makes me sick just looking at it.”

“It's not that much worse than pizza.” said Merlin.

“I only ate the pizza because you made it.”

“I um.” Merlin's cheeks felt warm. “...Seriously. It's not as gross as it looks. Besides, Alex loves this stuff.”

“Thanks to your unduly influence, probably.” Arthur took an experimental bite, and winced a little. “I'm glad that I don't have a history of high cholesterol in my family.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Merlin raised an eyebrow, “You're not one of those people that counts every single calories that he digests, do you?”

“What? No!” Arthur looked properly scandalized. “How can you even think that?”

“Just a thought.” Merlin shrugged, “I mean...you—you look good.” Though he doubted it was counting calories that made Arthur look good. Arthur Pendragon was hardly a healthy person, and a person counting calories usually signified that they were healthy, sort of.

Now it was Arthur looking a little uncomfortable. They still had awkward silences now and then, but Merlin had learned that if he left them well alone, things were eventually going to be okay again. That was one thing they had to 'work' on. They did, by more or less walking on eggshells around each other...but things were pretty good anyway.

“Merlin, actually...I've been meaning to ask. Are you busy a week from now?”

“A week...?” Merlin mentally went through his schedule, he didn't really have much of one, “Don't think so, I'm pretty much done. They should be mailing my diploma to me pretty soon. And then I guess I'll be released to wreak havoc in the real world...when you actually think about it, it's horrible.”

“I think the world won't notice.” Arthur half smirked at him, “You wreak enough havoc even while enslaved to our beautiful education system. I don't think I know the difference.”

“Hey--”

“On a lighter note, congratulations. We'll go out for dinner and you can be my certified shrink.” Arthur's hand brushed his under the table.

“I don't think I want in your head. So no thanks.” Merlin grinned and reached for a fry. “But dinner sounds great. Could we try Robuchon again?”

“You're spoiled.” Arthur looked at him, “Did I ever tell you that? Do you even know how expensive Robuchon is?”

“But it's my graduation! Technically speaking...please?” Merlin looked at him, “We can bring Alex, it'd be fun. I'll take full responsibility for his actions and everything.”

Arthur hesitated, “Robuchon is probably going to have nightmares about my son and I'm never going to have the pride to show my face again.” He said finally, not sounding completely serious, at least. “We'll see.”

“Arthur, give your son some credit. He's a good kid.”

“I'm kind of glad he takes after his mother.” Arthur said, “I used to be a real troublemaker when I was younger, or so Morgana keeps telling me.”

Merlin still winced a little every time Gwen was mentioned, but he was getting better and better at hiding his expressions. “Of course Morgana would tell you something like that. You guys aren't that far apart. But what did you want to ask me before we got off topic?”

“...What did I—oh, yeah. The Iconia Convention, they're holding it in Vegas this year, renting out the Mirage or some hotel. Do you want to go?”

“What's the Iconia Convention?” Merlin blinked.

“It's a technology convention for all kinds of things. Big companies go, and I'm very surprised I was offered a spot. They expect me to give a twenty minute presentation on something.” Arthur took another brave bite of his burger, washing it down forcefully with the soda.

“That's great.” Merlin smiled at him, “Congratulations. After the twenty minutes, you can go on vacation. I'll be glad to tag along if you'd let me.”

“Always looking on the bright side, are we?”

“Of course.” Merlin shoved the last fries into his mouth and got up. “You're going to be late for work...are you going to eat that?”

Arthur shrugged. “You can have it.”

But then again, Merlin supposed that things weren't really...perfect. He just liked to think that they were. It was really strictly speaking, they hadn't even talked properly yet. He wolfed down the rest of Arthur's burger and followed him out. “How late are you going to be tonight?”

“Since Margaret was kind enough to get me an assistant that works...not very late.” Arthur unlocked his car, “You sure you don't want ride back? I can be a little late.”

“Oh...that guy that works at the desk beside Margaret?” Merlin smirked, “He's very cute. Hopefully you won't get too distracted while you work.”

Arthur gave him a somewhat sour look as he got in, “I'll have you know. It's just you. Now quit smirking at me and get in the car.”

Merlin wiped off the smirk and replaced it with a grin.

–

Arthur was getting somewhat edgy, Merlin was trying to be patient, he knew that, but it was the fact that he eventually wanted things from Arthur that made him uncomfortable. The only person that didn't seem bothered by this was Alex. Arthur had never seen his kid so ridiculously happy, it was a little disturbing.

“Arthur?” Merlin rapped gently on the door to his study, “Dinner's ready.”

Where it would have deterred him before, it wasn't so bad to have Merlin's arms around him. Arthur tipped his head up, letting Merlin's mouth slide over his. “...What are we having today?”

“Sandwiches. Alex said he wanted to make us dinner. So I just gave him bread and stuff to put in.” Merlin kissed him again and Arthur shifted slightly in his chair.

“What for?”

“I guess you and I have been on extremely good terms for the past week and Alex thinks that's an accomplishment.”

“Ow.” Arthur made a face, but he managed to turn around and tug Merlin down on his lap, it was a place that he rather liked to have Merlin, actually. “Sometimes my kid hurts my feelings.”

“But most times your kid has a point.” Merlin leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his temple, “He must get that uncanny sense of logic from his father.”

“Oh, shut up.”

There was a sharp knock at the door—they both looked up to see Alex standing in the doorway with his eyes covered, “Are you guys done? Can I look?”

Merlin hastily got up and fixed Arthur's collar while Arthur's own reaction was a click slower, “Merlin, is there something you're not telling me?”

“Of course I tell you everything.” Merlin said brightly, a little too brightly. “And yes, Alex, you can look now. Let's go eat.”

–

Later, Alex made the both of them sit in the living room while he made chocolate sundaes. Merlin's hand felt good rubbing along his spine and Arthur's fingers were tangled in Merlin's hair. Arthur was oddly content, “Did you teach him how to make those?”

“Make what?”

“Sundaes.”

“Mordred did. I took Alex to visit the ice cream parlor again. It was a slow day, so we just kind of messed around” Merlin smiled against his cheek, leaving a warm spot there. “You don't mind him around Mordred, do you?”

“Well, you're there, most times, and I trust you. You keep your brother in line.” Arthur tilted Merlin's face a little so they could kiss. It occurred to him how like a pair of horny teenaged boys they were behaving, but he couldn't quite help himself.

“...Arthur.” A strangled sound left Merlin's throat, “...Not now, the sundaes only take a couple of minutes.”

“Then later.” Arthur said, voice suddenly husky with promise. He moved a good—safe distance distance away from Merlin just before Alex entered the living room and set sundaes in front of them. The scoops were hardly round and the chocolate syrup dribbled down the sides of the bowl, and the cherry on top was crooked but.

“Congratulations!” Alex beamed at them. Arthur in particular, he was gratified to see.

“For what?” Arthur asked.

“You know, working things out.” Alex dug into his own sundae with gusto. “Not being idiots...that sort of thing.”

“Oh.” Arthur didn't dare look at Merlin, who seemed to be choking on his sundae.

–

“So can we start making wedding invites now?” Mordred had asked him over brunch that Sunday (brunch because their day began five minutes to noon) “Things seem to be going well. You're not coming home looking like you got run over by a cement truck or anything.”

“Things are going well.” Merlin agreed noncommittally. It was a day where he and Mordred had the apartment to himself, and the table seemed big.

“I hear a big 'but' coming.”

“But...” Merlin sucked in a deep breath, “I feel like we're stuck.”

“Does he know you feel that way?”

Merlin shrugged. He should have jumped for joy when Arthur said 'later' like that, but the sensitive part of him (the part of Merlin that still catered to Arthur's wedding ring by default) was inspired to leave early. Arthur probably didn't even know what he was promising. “Probably not.”

“You should hit him.” Mordred suggested, “Really hard, with the remote or something.”

“Violence is never the answer. And Arthur needs his brain cells.” Merlin said, “It's not his fault, it's just...we've never really...talked. I'm uncomfortable.”

“Tell him that.”

“But...”

“But you're a fucking pansy about it.” Mordred slogged down some soda. “I'm beginning to think this is a one-way street. Sean and Langston have totally warped your head about this relationship thing.”

“And you should stop going around with so many girls.” Merlin shot back, “I'm really waiting for you to get an STD. When you do, I'm going to laugh.”

Mordred looked hesitant, “Seriously though...you should tell him. You can't just cater to him all the time.” He got up to fetch another can of soda. “Yes, Arthur was probably miserable in his day, but you have no reason to be miserable with him. I honestly hate it when you angst.”

“I'm not trying to angst.” Merlin protested, “I'm just...I don't want to push him too hard.”

“I know you don't. Which is really part of the problem, actually.” Mordred looked at him, “And I'm just worried that you'll wank for the rest of your life.”

“Mordred.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.” Mordred certainly didn't sound sorry, but he clapped his brother on the shoulder, “Let's go watch a movie.”

–

That Sunday, Arthur put Alex in the car and drove a good two hours away from the city. Far enough not to hear the symphony of horns and static, but still close enough for comfort. He'd wanted to ask Merlin along, but somehow, the setting seemed too intimate for him to share.

“Dad, what are we doing here?”

What were they doing here? It was a fair question, one that even Arthur couldn't quite answer. He popped the trunk of the car and got out a kite, Arthur had never flown a kite but Kaye had mentioned on more than one occasion that his kids loved flying kites. For one thing, Arthur couldn't see the appeal of just flying something up high. But maybe Alex would.

“I bought you a kite. I thought it'd be easier if we fly it out here.” It was an endless green, supposedly a wilderness camping area, but he had yet to see any campers.

“You...bought me a kite?” Alex seemed skeptical. “Why?”

“I don't know. To see if you like it.” Which was most of the truth, anyway.

Alex sat down cross legged on the grass and examined the kite, “Dad...”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn't you invite Merlin?”

Arthur considered lying, though while his pride allowed it, his conscience did not. “I just didn't.”

“But you wanted to?”

Arthur shrugged, “Not really. I just thought, you know, we hardly get to spend time together. This might be fun. And it looks windy.” Which was not most of the truth, but Alex didn't need to know that. Arthur tore the plastic wrapping off the kite. “And besides, we can't trouble Merlin every day.”

“We're not troubling him.” Alex examined the kite with some interest.

“Alex, I'm sure Merlin would like to have a day of the week to himself.” Arthur stood up, bringing the kite with him. “I'm going to call him tonight and you can talk to him.”

“...Oh, okay.” Alex seemed assured. He took the kite when Arthur handed it to him, “So...what do I have to do?”

“I guess you just have run very fast, and let out string when the wind picks it up.”

“Oh.” But before he took off, Alex turned back to look at him, “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“...You do, right?”

“Do what?” Arthur blinked at him.

“Like Merlin.” Alex said, “Is he like Mom at all?”

Arthur was silent. “Alexander.”

He supposed that Alex had been so used to hearing 'Alex' by now that hearing 'Alexander' made his face drop, “What did I do?”

“You didn't do anything.” Arthur said quickly, “I just...” When it really came down to it, there really was no diplomatic way to put this to a five—almost six-year old now. He walked a few measured steps and dropped down on his knees to Alex's level. “I like Merlin, okay? Very much. But please don't ask me about your mother.”

Alex blinked at him, wide-eyed, “Did she...do something bad?”

“No.” Arthur felt the word stick in his throat, “She didn't do anything bad.”

Perhaps his face was more tortured than he intended it to be, but Alex stepped forward and gave him a long hug. “Cheer up, Dad. It's going to be okay.” The boy grinned at him, and Arthur somehow managed one back. “I'm going to run down the hill now. Bet you can't catch me!”

–

Merlin answered on the fourth ring, just when Arthur thought about hanging up. “Hey, Arthur.” But he sounded so wonderfully bright and cheerful that Arthur immediately changed his mind. “What's up?”

“Uh.” And he was suddenly at a loss for words. This was the first time he called Merlin outside of having a professional reason, and it just felt weird. “I...I don't know, I felt like it. Can't I do that?” Then, realizing just how defensive he sounded, Arthur let out a tight breath he hadn't realized he was holding. “I guess...I just miss you. A little.”

“You...miss me?”

Arthur was quick to add, “Just a little. It's weird when you're not around. You always are.”

There was a pause, “So I just grew on you?” Merlin laughed, “Jesus, you make me sound like a parasite or something.” Thankfully, he changed the subject, “As of fifteen minutes ago, I graduated. They sent me my electronic diploma. Actually spelled my name right, I'm impressed.”

“You know you did. As a necessary bacteria though.” Arthur remanded his statement. “Do they always spell your name wrong?”

“Mostly, they spell it Marlin.”

Arthur couldn't help himself, he laughed.

“Hey.”

“Sorry.” Arthur leaned back in his chair. “...What are you doing right now?”

“I'm lying down, there's not that much to do.” he heard vague rustling. “Will took Matthew and Mordred clubbing. I'm tired of being responsible.”

“You deserve a day to yourself sometimes.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“Let's go have a day then.” The words slipped before Arthur could really think them over, “Soon. We'll go somewhere quiet.”

Merlin was smiling, when Arthur closed his eyes he could see it, “Sounds fun.”

“Dad?” Alex padded into the room in his pajamas and climbed into Arthur's lap and nuzzled there. Arthur's other hand settled atop the boy's head, “Who're you talking to?”

“Merlin.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“Sure...' Arthur said into the phone, “Hey, Merlin, Alex wants to talk to you, is it all right?”

“Only if he goes straight to bed afterwards.” Merlin said, “Tell him that.”

Arthur looked down at Alex's hopeful face, “Merlin says he'll talk to you if you go straight to bed after you finish.”

“Will you tuck me in?”

Arthur thought Alex would make a scary businessman if he ever put his mind to it. “Of course I will.” with that, Arthur handed over the phone.

“Hey, hold a sec...Arthur.”

“Yeah?”

“I'm glad you called.”

–

They'd made some progress. At least, Merlin thought so. Arthur was no longer shy about touching him, and though usually Merlin had to take a long ice cold shower after Arthur drove him home, things weren't all bad. And he started arriving at home later, and later. Last night, he'd gotten in around 1 am, and Mordred had took one look at his flushed face and laughed until he fell off the couch and hit his head.

“I'm going to wear earplugs to sleep.”

“Shut up.”

He was now curled on the couch, contentedly with Arthur beside him. Alex had just been tucked in, and they never felt comfortable until they checked, and double checked to see that Alex was truly asleep.

Merlin took a deep breath, “Arthur...can I—ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“And will you be honest?”

Arthur was quiet for a long moment, his hand stopped rubbing the small of Merlin's back. “Depends. What's there to be honest about?”

Implying that he was never honest. Merlin paused, “...Your wedding ring.” He leaned away from Arthur in favor of a cushion as he spoke, “Would you, be offended if I asked you to take it off?” It was not the question that he'd set out to ask, but somehow, it seemed appropriate.

“I...What kind of question is that?”

“It's just a question.” Merlin got quickly to his feet, he wanted to be scarce if Arthur's reaction was...

Actually, he didn't know what kind of reaction Arthur was going to show him. Right now, Arthur was staring holes through his wedding ring.

“Merlin.” Arthur finally looked at him, “Are you asking me this because you don't think I care about you?”

“I'm asking you because all we've been doing for the past few days is make out. Not that I mind that...but.” Merlin wondered if it was a good idea to start edging for the door now. “We need to talk about this. I can't be comfortable with the fact that my boyfriend's wearing a wedding ring.” He paused, “I already know you care.”

“Your...boyfriend?” Arthur seemed to flinch.

“What else would you be?” Merlin said. “We make out, you tell me things sometimes, and I stay at your place late.” A little crude, but he wanted to see if Arthur would wince again.

Arthur did not. But he did suddenly look twenty years older again, and Merlin felt guilty. But what was said was said, and as far as he was concerned, it needed to be said.

“Merlin.” Somehow, Arthur sounded particularly strangled as he spoke Merlin's name. “I..In all honesty. I don't think I'm ready to take it off yet.” Slowly, he stood up, and walked over to where Merlin was. “But I like you...I don't want you to leave.”

“Arthur...”

Arthur's hand brushed his cheek, for the first time that Merlin could remember, the cold metal stung his skin. His kiss was strange, it left a strange taste.

“I need...more time. You said you'd wait for me.”

But how long? Merlin let Arthur's head fall on his shoulder. Suddenly everything was heavy. “Arthur, the letters...the letters that Gwen wrote to you.”

“What about them?” Arthur raised his eyes, resigned.

“The ones I read, they're not the only ones, are they?”

“No, there's a big box of them. In my closet, I kept them all.” Arthur said, “She's wrote to me since '98.”

1998. It seemed ages, eons ago, and it probably was. “Tell me about her. How did you two meet?” Perhaps if Merlin knew more about this Gwen...perhaps he would forgive Arthur for loving her so damn much. Merlin wanted to ask Arthur if he could read the letters, but didn't know if he had it in him to stomach it.

“It was at one of her student exhibitions. She'd just won a chance to go exhibit in France the following semester. I went because the girl I was sort of seeing at the time wanted to.”

Somehow, they'd made it to the couch again, but this time, Merlin had his head in Arthur's lap. Arthur must have felt guilty. But then, Arthur probably always felt guilty. “Were you serious about the girl?” He asked, keeping his voice light.

“Her name was Ellen, and no, I wasn't.” Arthur gave a little snort of sorts, “Morgana probably told you that.”

“She hasn't really told me anything.” Merlin said, and that was the truth. “I don't ask her about you, you know. If there's anything I need to hear, I'll hear it from you.” Touching a hand to Arthur's jaw, Merlin added, “...when you're ready to tell me.”

“You're some kind of saint.”

That made him turn red, but Merlin looked away. “Hardly. Keep going.”

“Guinevere and Ellen were good friends, evidently. And I wasn't really seeing Ellen. She just liked to dragged me to places and pretend we were.” Arthur looked at the ceiling as he spoke. “...I snapped at Ellen at the exhibition for something. I don't remember what. But Gwen...she heard, and she threw a cup of soda in my face. I always though she and my sister were soul mates in a past life. But anyway, she ruined one of my most expensive shirts.”

“Must have pissed you off.” Merlin curled his arm around Arthur's neck and tugged until Arthur leaned down. He planted soft kisses along Arthur's jaw.

“...If you do that I can't talk very well.” Arthur cupped his face and brought their mouths together, “Stop being distracting.”

Merlin let him go. “Sorry, just wanted to. Continue.”

“Yes, it pissed me off, because I had a dinner I had to attend with my father. And the shirt was ruined, too. Dry cleaning wasn't that advanced back in 1998. I made her buy me lunch for the next two weeks.”

“How expensive was this shirt?” Merlin wanted to know. He didn't think any shirt was expensive enough to warrant two weeks' worth of lunch. But Arthur was Arthur.

“Very expensive. Made in Italy, tailored especially for yours truly.”

“Two weeks' lunch seems like an overkill, though.” Merlin said, “Or did you just make it two weeks because you thought she was cute?”

“...Maybe a little.” Arthur admitted, “But that was how.”

Merlin's eyes were watering. He grabbed Arthur's head and kissed him until his lips were raw. And Arthur let him. Quite possibly out of guilt.

–

They had an early flight to Vegas that Friday, and so Merlin was up by 3 am. Mordred, in a surprisingly kind gesture, had climbed up at 3 am and gave him a box of condoms.

“Mordred--”

“Merlin, you're going to Vegas, and you're going to be stuck in a hotel with Arthur Pendragon the whole weekend. Don't lie to me and tell me you won't be needing these. I sort of ran out of lube so--”

“Mordred.” Merlin stared at the box in his hands, “...Arthur's going to go to Vegas for a convention. I'm going so I can care for Alex. Neither of us are going there to have sex.”

“Say what you like, but you're still going to be stuck in a hotel suite with him.” Mordred yawned, “What with all the unresolved sexual tension, you'll probably wank until your dick falls off.” He turned to go back into the room, “Whatever, suit yourself...I'm going back to bed.”

Mordred had a point though, Merlin only admitted it when he boarded the bus with his suitcase, he was probably going to spend the weekend standing in a cold shower.

–

“Sorry to get you up so early.” Arthur told Merlin, when he opened the door with Alex blissfully asleep on one arm. The boy was dressed, but it had taken forever to dress him when he was half asleep, “The convention opens at eight, so I need to at least be there for check-in. I have assistants that are going to join me later.”

“It's fine.” Merlin said, although Arthur thought that he looked dead on his feet. “Seriously. Is Alex...?”

“I doubt that he remembers, but we flew a lot when he was just one or two.” Arthur shrugged, trying not to make a big deal about the details that he was giving away, “I'm hoping it's in his blood and that he'll sleep the whole way.”

–

Alex did sleep the whole way, and when he did wake up, they were already in Vegas, done with check-in for the convention, and in the hotel suite. Chris had signed him up for one of those enormous executive suites on the twelfth floor, where he could see the entire strip from the window. There was one bed and one sofa, but he guessed they could talk about the logistics later.

“Dad, where are we?”

“Las Vegas.”

“Oh.” Alex murmured sleepily into his shoulder, “Okay then.”

“You still sleepy?”

“A little.”

Arthur sat Alex down on the bed. The bed seemed huge and swallowed him up. “Sleep, then, okay?”

He waited until Alex's breathing had evened out before he let the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. Merlin looked up from his place on the couch, he looked comfortable there, and Arthur was so tempted to join him.

“Alex's asleep?”

“Yeah.”

Merlin looked at him, “...Flying around 24/7 is also in your blood, isn't it? You don't look tired at all.” He sat upright and patted the cushion next to him, “I haven't been on a plane for the longest time, I don't get how you can sit still for so long.”

“We didn't even sit through that long of a flight. Barely an hour.” Arthur sat down.

Merlin shrugged, “I don't know, it just felt long. Are you going to go down to the convention?”

“I don't really want to.” Arthur brushed a light kiss against Merlin's cheek, “But I think I do have to go down there and show my face, you know, make nice with all those people. My assistant should be along shortly.”

“The cute one? I can't wait to meet him.”

“Merlin...”

“I'm messing with you.” Merlin leaned in and kissed him, “Relax, or else you'll get wrinkles. Besides, I don't think the bookish ones are my type, anyway.”

“I think I might be offended.” Because Merlin had just implied that he wasn't bookish, and the fact of the matter was-- “What am I, then?”

“I think you're very...you're just you.” Merlin said, “And I don't think I have a type.”

There was a rap on his door, “Arthur? It's Chris.”

Arthur stood up, but before he could get the door, Merlin pulled him down for one last kiss. “For good luck.”

–

Vegas wasn't bad. Merlin doubted he'd have another chance to glance inside an exec suite, and thus far, he hadn't needed a cold shower yet. When Alex woke up, Merlin ordered room service and was floored at how much food a single entree contained.

“Where's Dad?”

“He went down to the convention with his assistant. Just to see what it was like.”

“We'll be going too, right?”

Merlin patted down Alex's hair, “Yep, tomorrow, when he does his presentation, we'll be there to cheer him on.”

Alex forked up a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “Do you think Dad gets nervous?”

“I think Arthur is used to this type of thing. So not really.” Merlin answered truthfully. Arthur seemed to him one to be on top of his work, which left his private life more or less in shambles. “But with us there, I think he'll forget to be nervous.”

Alex's smile was gold, Merlin wanted a camera so he could show it to Arthur later.

–

Arthur returned at precisely 9 pm, looking as put together as he had when he had left. He came back alone, without his assistant. Merlin was reading on the couch and put down his book when Arthur sank down heavily beside him.

“So? How'd it go?”

“Well. A lot of people flew in overseas.” Arthur shrugged, “I need to practice my Russian, so it would seem. I forgot a lot of my German.”

“God, how many languages do you speak?”

“I'm only fluent in French and English, but it's always good to learn others.” Arthur shrugged, “I used to know German. But there's no one to speak it with, so I forget. Did you eat?”

“Yeah, we ate at this grill thing downstairs. It was good.” Merlin looked at him, “And I guess Vegas doesn't agree with Alex, he went to bed already.” He tugged off Arthur's tie. “Are you nervous for tomorrow?”

“A little.” Arthur said. “I can never stop being nervous for these things.”

Merlin smiled against Arthur's jaw. “I'm sure you'll be great. You should get some sleep, then. The panel's early tomorrow, isn't it?”

“...I'm a little too wound up to sleep.”

In the weeks that had passed, Merlin had learned this as code for, 'I want to make out', because actually saying he wanted to was difficult for Arthur. He didn't really...well, Arthur's kid was in the next room, but.

“I get dibs on the shower.” He said finally as he pushed Arthur down against the cushions and kissed him. “And I hope Alex is a deep sleeper.”

Arthur gazed at him, dazed and content. “And I hope you put your mouth to better use, starting now.”

–

Somehow, they'd fallen off the couch without quite noticing it, and when Arthur could remember how to breathe again, he realized that he was straddling Merlin in the most obscene way possible. Merlin, with a flushed face and wonderfully bruised lips was staring back up at him. Usually, this was where Merlin excused himself, saying that he had to go.

Several buttons had come loose from Arthur's shirt, leaving his chest bare. Merlin's fingers danced around on his skin. It was the first time Merlin had ever ventured to touch him like that.

And then Merlin took his hand away.

“I shouldn't...right?” Merlin's eyes were luminous in the dark, but Arthur couldn't read his expression at all. Halfway stuck between torture and bliss. “But...oh, Arthur. Arthur. I want to touch you.”

Arthur felt it, Merlin's erection rubbing slowly against his own. And the fact that Arthur had an erection only meant...

Something gnawed at him, something like guilt. But Arthur bent down and kissed him, sucking on Merlin's mouth as they rocked slowly together. The confines of their clothing made it uncomfortable, and Arthur noted that Merlin's hands were shaking as they fumbled with his fly.

Merlin's hands were cold, as always.

“You've...done this before.” Arthur said, “...Why are you shaking?”

“Because I've...” Merlin avoided his gaze, “I haven't done it with you...and you're different.”

Arthur let go of his hands to undo Merlin's jeans, and he had to admit, his hands weren't quite steady either. But somehow, it was going to be all right.

“You think too much.” Arthur kept his voice light, as he shifted slightly. A shiver crawled up his spine as Merlin moaned appreciatively beneath him. “No wonder you're an idiot, if you think about stuff like this. Just touch me.”

Arthur's thumb smoothed gently over Merlin's hipbone. He couldn't allow himself to think too much either.

Merlin grabbed at him and hissed, “Shut up.” against his mouth.

–

Merlin woke up the next morning and realized that he had fallen asleep drooling on Arthur's stomach. He was not exactly decent from the waist down and he was sticky.

Arthur was still asleep, as much as Merlin could tell, and he looked strangely at home on the hotel carpet. It was almost laughable. Arthur was not decent, either, and Merlin had to wonder, since Arthur's shirt was half on, whether or not he'd ruined the shirt; maybe it was made it Italy.

“Merlin?”

Merlin almost died. Alex was standing there in the doorway, looking quizzically at him and the sleeping Arthur. Merlin almost tripped over his own jeans. Arthur's fly was open, but his pants weren't down and--

“Oh, Alex.” The only thing good about this was that Arthur was sleeping. Merlin hoped he stayed asleep for a very long time. “Listen, you want to do me a very big favor?”

“What?”

“Go into the room and close the door.” Merlin said, “I have a...um, I have a surprise for you, and Arthur and I have to get it ready. So you can't look yet. I'll tell you when it's safe to come out. Okay?”

Alex looked skeptical, “Is it a good surprise?”

“Yes, Alex, it's a good surprise.”

“Okay.” Alex closed the door.

Without missing a beat, Arthur started laughing. “Very nice save, Merlin.”

“You were awake?” Merlin looked down at him, thoroughly disapproving. “Could you have done better?”

Arthur shrugged one shoulder awkwardly as he raised himself up on his elbows. “Probably not, which is why I stayed asleep.”

“You--”

Arthur kissed him, “You shouldn't pout. Good morning.”

–

Alex was happily digging into a banana split when Chris rapped on the door again. Arthur supposed it was a very bad habit trying to bribe your kid with food, but desperate times called for even more desperate measures.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been, Arthur supposed as he politely thanked everyone and sat back down in his seat between Merlin and Chris. The panel was held in one of the medium sized ballrooms and it was about half full. Alex was currently on his best behavior sitting in Merlin's lap. The boy flashed him a thumbs-up...although Arthur was pretty positive that Alex didn't know what was going on.

Merlin certainly didn't, and told him as much as he (very discreetly) kissed Arthur's ear.

The emcee was a guy that desperately needed a haircut, or so Arthur thought. He ran one of those huge corporations in New York or New Jersey, but the haircut alone made him look like a used car salesman. “Well, we certainly will see where Mr. Pendragon gets his brilliance in just a moment. I'd say it runs in the family.”

Arthur tensed. Merlin was giving him a concerned look.

“Will everyone please help me welcome Mr. Uther Pendragon, flying in especially from London.”

Uther Pendragon.

Uther Pendragon was here. Well, actually it wasn't that big of a surprise, he just didn't expect it to be here, of all places. Arthur tried to duck his head but that ended up not being an option because a lot of people turned around and stared at him as his father rose from a seat in the third row. He was nearing sixty now, but still as imposing as ever.

He did not look at Arthur.

“Arthur.” Merlin's hand was on his shoulder, “Are you...are you okay?”

Perhaps he looked as pale as he felt. “I...”

“Come on. Let's go, Arthur.”

His exit was missed by no one, and he felt Alex gripping his other hand. It was a small comfort, as Uther Pendragon's eyes burned at the back of his head.

“Arthur.” Chris was on his feet as well, picking up the cue.

“Stay here.” Arthur gave him a look. "Take notes for me, I'll find you later."

To a Wild Rose (1/3)

raspberry_pop — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 07:26:26 GMT

Title: To a Wild Rose
Category: Merlin © BBC
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin, bit of Gwen/Lancelot
Genres: AU/Angst/Romance/Historical(ly inaccurate .__.)
Rating: PG-13/PG-16 at the most
Progress: 1/3
Wordcount: 5020
Summary: Victorianesque—Arthur Pendragon, Marquess of Harington flees to his country estate for a well-deserved summer holiday. However, there is no rest for the weary, as Arthur finds out that his new stable boy Merlin, is socially inept but helplessly captivating, and that his mansion just might be haunted by a secret his father struggles to hide.

Notes: for the kinkme_merlin prompt: 19th century AU. Arthur as the lonely child of a rich lord, Merlin as the new stableboy. Bonus points for UST and needy fumblings in empty rooms of the ~deserted~ mansion.
It was just too irrestitable of a bunny..I couldn't help myself. And the visuals were just a plus, research is actually fun.
Thanks to anna_zee for being a wonderful beta!

Chapter I: A Face in the Night

Even in the wake of spring, Arthur Pendragon, Marquess of Harington, thought that London was helplessly dreary. It was hardly ever dry, and even though he had promised his father that he'd actually go out a pay a proper round of calls today...the fact that it was raining sheets when he got up drastically changed his plans. He doubted anyone else was making calls in this weather.

Arthur had the queerest feeling that Uther Pendragon, his father, Duke of Devonshire (but a lot of times it seemed that the middle title was an honorary one rather than an actual one) was more eager for his coming of age than he was. Because, as far as he could tell, there was nothing glorious about being eighteen...except that he had the entire Devonshire House to himself while Uther fled to Lismore Castle. Arthur hadn't seen him since the party—which had magically coincided with Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee.

Some deity had deemed that coming of age was not to be a fun affair...not for Arthur Pendragon, anyway. He had spent the entire night escorting the Queen, who had seemed to be quite fond of him, since he supposedly looked like her husband Albert when he was younger. Arthur hadn't been too sure how he felt about that. He also had fought the urge to vomit every time Uther walked by preening like a proud peacock, as if Uther really had anything to be proud of.

But being stuck with the Queen also had some unspoken merits. For one thing, he'd been rescued from going on with the younger set, people his age. Arthur did not particularly dislike them, but they usually spent their time talking about fashion, hunting, or whether the devilishly handsome Lord Whitaker was finally getting married. (Actually, Arthur found the latter-most topic disturbing...because Lord Whitaker was near his father's age and girls barely even of age really just shouldn't. Though this type of thing happened all the time...he failed to see the logic.)

On the topic of marriage, Arthur supposed it had been a second blessing of sorts. He'd known for a long time that Uther had hoped—expected that he would offer his hand in marriage to Lady Morgana Le Fay. She was the second daughter of an French viscount that Uther liked to do business with. But frankly? Arthur didn't like Morgana (in fact, he was quite scared of her, but nobody needed to know that.)

At the end of the jubilee, Arthur had found himself conveniently betrothed to a Spanish Princess, Maria, one of Queen Victoria's favorite second cousins. Arthur had no idea how it happened, really; he barely even spoke any Spanish (his French was passable because he and Morgana fought all the time). His only guess was that he hadn't been quite sober and the Queen had done all the talking. It wasn't until he'd woken up the next morning and was informed by one of his servants that his future wife to be Princess Maria de Molina was paying him a call.

She was pleasant. At least she knew English better than he knew Spanish and Morgana would have found their French to be treason. By the end of her visit, during which Gwen had scurried in and out with tea and biscuits, Arthur found that Maria was not a bad person. He could stand to be married to her, someday, even if she was older than him. He'd kissed her hand good-bye and promised to visit Spain, soon.

A week later after his party and the Queen's jubilee, Uther Pendragon stalked back into Devonshire House (like he really owned it) demanding an explanation. Apparently, the news of his son's betrothal to a Spanish Princess had just reached him and Uther was furious.

“What were you thinking?” Uther thundered, “What am I going to tell the viscount?”

Arthur, lounging on a divan and quite comfortable, only winced once. “Tell him I was drunk and the Queen approved. She officiated.”

“You--”

Arthur was aware that he might have just ruined all future business transactions between the Viscount Le Fay and his father, but for some reason, he wasn't too worried. After all, Uther Pendragon usually got around snags just fine and in the long run, it'd make no difference whatsoever.

“Father, if I marry Maria, that puts me in the Queen's good graces and in line for the Spanish throne.” Come to think of that, he rather liked the idea. Being the seventh Duke of Devonshire wasn't near as appealing as being King Arthur of Spain. “Besides, you're not thinking of going against the Queen's will, are you?”

Uther glared at him, red faced and angry, and for a moment, Arthur thought that Uther was really going to raise his hand. Usually, he'd have a riding crop handy, but since Arthur had officially inherited the Devonshire House more than two months ago, he'd made sure that the supply of riding crops was severely lacking, quite nonexistent.

“You'll never become King of Spain. Don't be ridiculous.” Uther snarled at him, “I trust you'll fix this and tell Queen Victoria that this is all a horrible mistake. And of course, I expect you to apologize to Lady Morgana and her father.”

At the mere mention of apologizing to Lady Morgana, Arthur almost threw up in his mouth.

–

The list went on and on, and Arthur hadn't done any of it. He hadn't made calls, he hadn't visited Queen Victoria to tell her that he wanted to break off his betrothal with Princess Maria just because his father wanted to do business with some French viscount with a banshee for a daughter, he hadn't checked on the new diamond crop that Uther had bought in India, and he certainly hadn't apologized to Lady Morgana or the Viscount Le Fay.

In short, Arthur had done nothing. He'd written to Princess Maria once, half a piece of parchment to practice his Spanish. A week later, she'd sent him back a novella of letters bound with scarlet ribbons. He'd trudged through a paragraph a day. It was ridiculous.

Arthur put down the bundle as Gwen stole into the room. She was his favorite chambermaid (and at the moment, his only chambermaid). When the Devonshire House had changed hands, most of the staff remembered Arthur as a little monster that would not eat potatoes, and therefore, had made the wise choice to flee with Uther to Lismore Castle in Ireland. Arthur's current staff was laughably tiny. It consisted of Gwen, Lancelot the all purpose butler, and an elderly cook named Harriet who stayed behind only because she'd owed Arthur's mother Igraine a horrible life debt of some sort. She'd never talked to Arthur about it.

The Devonshire House had close to fifty rooms, and Arthur on a good day occupied maybe six of them.

“You're brooding again, Arthur.” Gwen said, setting down his mid-morning tea, “Why don't you go out?”

“It's wet outside.”

“It's London.” she reminded him. “and you know, it might actually help your social standing if you went out and made some calls.”

“I have a feeling that all my hopes at a decent social standing were dashed the day I became Uther Pendragon's son.” Arthur said darkly. Holding one of the largest dukedoms in England also meant that Uther Pendragon was one of the wealthiest men in the country, and he made sure people knew it. People knew it, even if they didn't want to. That was part of the problem.

“Arthur, you're so drastic.” Gwen shook her head, “What's that?” She pointed at his letters.

“From Princess Maria.” Arthur leaned back on the divan again, “I'm writing back to tell her she better write to me in English. I'm going to be King of Spain.”

“Isn't her brother Crown Prince?”

“Well, yes, but Alonso's a decade and then some older than Maria, and he has a penchant for Italian cigars. I'm going to send a batch as a gesture of goodwill.” Arthur shrugged, “Surely I'll be the King of Spain for a couple of years, at least.”

“I don't think the Spanish people would like it very much if their King didn't even know how to speak Spanish.” She grinned at him.

“...I'll learn eventually.”

“So you have no intention of backing out?” Gwen reached for a biscuit. She mostly made them for herself since Arthur never ate any.

“What do you mean, backing out?”

“Doesn't your father want you to marry Lady Morgana?”

“And since when have you known me to do anything my father tells me to do?” Arthur asked her rather wearily. When Uther asked nicely, it was another story, but he hardly ever did. “Besides, I think the whole of European nobility would erupt into war if I proposed to Lady Morgana. We certainly don't need another war, and I'm not going out of my way to anger her army of suitors. She's probably going to end up like Anne Boleyn.”

“Arthur.” Gwen's face darkened considerably.“Don't say that.”

Arthur waited a moment before speaking again, “Besides, even people like Morgana deserve to be happy and she's not going to be happy with me. I know that already.”

“And are you going to be happy with Princess Maria?” Gwen asked delicately, refilling his cup for him.

“I hope so. I'll try, at least.”

His mother had tried. She'd been much younger than his father, and still, it didn't seem fair that he'd still outlived her for the better part of Arthur's life. Arthur had been seven when she'd fallen victim to a vicious cough. He'd never gotten the chance to ask her if she succeeded, and because he'd wanted the world to know it wasn't fair he became a little monster afterwards.

Uther was inconsolable, and had locked himself away for a week. So in a way, Uther had loved his mother.

Maybe Arthur looked too much like her.

“Arthur.”

“...Did you say something?” Arthur blinked tiredly at her.

“I asked you if you were done with your tea.”

“Oh...I am.” Arthur nodded dismissively at the tray on the table.

Gwen got up from the chair and took the tray with her. She'd never tell him, but she often wondered if Arthur was sick. He always looked so pale and hardly moved from his divan by the window. “Arthur, I think you need a summer holiday. You can invite Princess Maria. Let's just get away from London a little while, I think it will do you good.”

It had been a long time since Arthur had taken any kind of holiday, because being in the Devonshire House assured that Uther would never show up unannounced. At any other family seat, however, things were different. He purposely didn't send a message to Lismore Castle and then made some calls (most of them twenty minutes or less because people apparently avoided the Pendragon name like the plague. Which was fine. Just fine. He wasn't going to be in London for the next three months anyway.)

They arrived at the Chatsworth House bright and early in the morning. It'd been a while since he had been here, and Arthur was surprised that the country view was so refreshing compared to cold, gray rainy London. The mansion stood atop a hill next to a winding river and it looked even bigger than the house that Arthur had left.

“Well, of course it looks bigger.” Lancelot told him, “...Over a hundred rooms, twice the size of Devonshire, Arthur.”

He meant well, Arthur was sure, but he was suddenly reminded how the other dukes and duchesses and viscounts and viscountesses spent their summer holidays. He had heard on one of his brief calls to a Lady Louisa that Lady Morgana had been whisked off to Italy, to Rome to spend the summer in a house that would actually fill up. (The devilishly handsome Lord Whitaker was said to be making an appearance. Was he jealous? Not really, actually, make that not at all.) It made Arthur feel decidedly pathetic that he was here on his summer holiday in the company of one chambermaid and one butler.

He refrained from inviting Princess Maria, because Arthur didn't want her to see exactly how pathetic he was...yet.

At the grand arch of Chatsworth House stood two people. A bent over old man, and a pale boy that looked around Arthur's age. As Arthur's party came to a halt, the old man creaked forward. “Arthur! My, how you've grown.”

Arthur had to blink a couple of times. The last time he'd been at Chatsworth, his mother had been alive. “...Gaius?” Gaius had been the retainer of Chatsworth ever since his father had inherited the dukedom. He was even older than Uther, and Arthur used to think he was immortal. But he had definitely aged.

“The same, young sir. The very same. Let me look at you.” And Gaius looked at him up and down, and up and down again. It was starting to get a little uncomfortable, until Gaius touched him on the arm and said, “You're the splitting image of Duchess Igraine. I think your mother would have been very proud.”

“Do I really?” He sounded a little hopeful.

“Yes, especially the eyes, Arthur. You have Igraine's eyes.” Gaius smiled at him. “Please, you must be tired. Merlin will take your horses to the stable, you don't have to worry about that.”

Merlin. Arthur's eyes went to the boy that stood quietly behind Gaius. He wore clothes a size loose on him, though he was tall. Merlin dipped his head, somehow, the gesture was almost mocking, “Sir.” Arthur didn't even know how it was mocking. It just was, he couldn't put his finger on it.

“This is my nephew, Merlin.” Gaius said by the way of introduction, “Merlin, Arthur Pendragon, Marquess of Harington.”

To which Merlin muttered, “I know who he is, Gaius.”

Arthur opened his mouth to protest—what had he done anyway? But Lancelot's hand was on his shoulder.

Merlin swung up on Gwen's horse, and clicked his tongue gently at the other two. Lancelot's horse followed first, and then Arthur's horse, looking supremely confused caught on and trotted off. Arthur had to stare; Laurent usually never obeyed anyone else. Once, he had even kicked Uther and Arthur had never properly apologized.

Gaius shook his head after his nephew, “Merlin has a way with horses. Unfortunately, people are a different story. You must forgive him, Arthur.”

–

“It's nice, see?” Lancelot lugged the last trunk across the floor to Arthur's bed, “Now you can actually see some green and the river outside the window when you wake up. And it really was a smart idea to send all of our trunks by train ahead of time. I enjoyed the ride.”

Arthur couldn't disagree; it was a nice room, twice the size of what he was used to, it was almost the size of his sitting room. But it was big, and he felt it threatened to swallow him up. “Isn't there a smaller room in this house? This room is big enough for ten people.”

“Gaius said there were some rooms in the second floor of the west wing that you might like. They're small. You used to sleep in one of them when you were a boy. Shall I show you to that room?”

–

On the second floor of the west wing, Arthur felt more at home; maybe some part of him remembered being a boy here. While Lancelot busied himself rearranging Arthur's two trunks, Gwen went down to the kitchens and fetched a snack. She reappeared with a tray of strawberry tarts, “Everyone seems to remember you loved these, Arthur.”

“I did?”

She shrugged. “How would I know? I wasn't around that long ago. Arthur, cheer up. You're on holiday. This is not London and it's not raining sheets.” Gwen pursed her lips, “If you're still unhappy about the stable boy, I'm sure he's just shy.”

The stable boy. Actually, Arthur hadn't thought about him at all. “What's his name again?”

“Merlin, I think.”

Arthur reached for a strawberry tart. They were good, unexpectedly. He guessed his sweet tooth wore off as he got older, for a good reason. He finished that one off and licked his fingers. “Can you wrap one up for me? I think I want to go riding.”

Not so much riding as taunting a stable boy who clearly lacked in social skills. Arthur guessed it was something to do.

–

It took Arthur a couple of minutes to find the stable, not that it was hard to miss. It was practically a mansion on its own, but it was far enough from the house to be tedious on foot. That sort of just missed the point of a stable, Arthur thought. It took him a couple of more minutes to navigate the maze of stalls and found Merlin brushing his horse. Laurent stood perfectly still.

“Merlin, is it?”

Arthur thought Merlin's shoulders flinched before he turned around. “Sir,” he nodded curtly, “Or would you prefer Marquess?”

“I prefer neither.” Arthur walked up to him. Laurent tossed his head and whinnied at him. Arthur petted his nose. “I'm surprised he lets him near you.”

“I have my ways,” Merlin shrugged and turned back to this work, “What do you prefer then? Duke of Devonshire, soon-to-be?”

“Why do you do that?” Arthur looked at him, “What have I ever done to you?”

Merlin pursed his lips, “Do you want to ride?” he asked finally, “I changed his shoes. He should be fine now.”

Laurent nuzzled his nose. Arthur sighed, “Fine.”

“I'll saddle him for you, then. Just give me a minute.” Leaving briefly, he was soon back with a saddle, not the one he'd used, but a saddle was a saddle. He threw it unceremoniously over Laurent and clicked the straps into place. “What's his name?”

“Laurent.” Arthur said, although he wished he hadn't. It seemed a too personal piece of information for a person who just practically said he didn't want to be personal.

“That's a nice name.” Merlin stepped back, “He's all yours, I'd stay away from the wood if I were you, it's nearly dark, you might not be able to find your way back.”

“I was under the impression that you didn't like people.” Arthur swung up on his horse, “Why the sudden concern?”

“It's not concern.” Merlin set his chin stubbornly, “It's so Gaius doesn't have my head for dinner. In the interest of self-preservation.”

Unbelievable. Arthur suddenly wanted to hit him hard with something blunt, but his current inventory was far from apt. He set Laurent off at a gallop and left the stable.

–

When Arthur returned to the stable an hour later, Merlin was nowhere in sight. He left Laurent in a stall near the entrance, since he didn't want to navigate the labyrinth again, and went back to the mansion. He was feeling only slightly better after the ride.

Dinner was served in the main dining room, although technically he was the only one allowed to eat, while the other people stood and watched. If he was home, Lancelot and Gwen would have eaten with him, but with Gaius frittering around like a nervous squirrel, they remained at their station. Arthur would have to thank them later.

It was a five course meal, including roast lamb for the main course and chiffon cake for dessert. It looked like the staff had outdone themselves because no one had seen the young Marquess in ages and my, how he had grown.

All throughout dinner though, Arthur didn't see Merlin. He finally asked Gaius about it, and Gaius just shrugged.

“Merlin hardly ever comes to the house. He likes to stay near the stable.”

“How does he eat?” Arthur pressed.

“He comes to the kitchen, usually...After dinner, and picks up food then.” Gaius paused awkwardly, “Arthur, you'd do well to stay away from my nephew.”

–

“He told you to stay away from his nephew.” Lancelot stopped him in the hallway. “And it would so appear that he hates you anyway. What are you doing?”

“Merlin is a servant of this estate as much as anyone. Even if he hates me.” Arthur pushed past him to descend the stairs, “I just want to make sure he's fed like the rest of us.”

“You know, for a noble, you're bloody kind.” Lancelot leaned against the railing. “I'm actually kind of glad I work for you.”

“Thanks.” Arthur replied sourly.

–

“No, Merlin hasn't come by yet, sir.” one of the cooks told him. “On some days he doesn't come, but we usually leave his food for him right there by the door.” She gestured to a plate. “Most days he comes and picks it up, and it's back here by morning. Else...none of us really see much of Merlin.”

“How long has he been working here?” Arthur wanted to know.

“Since a few summers ago.” The cook told him, “He's had some schooling, but I supposed that didn't suit him. He came back to care for Gaius. Gaius is slowing down, you know.”

Arthur knew. “I'm going to bring Merlin his food.” He picked up the plate.

“But...it's after dark! You don't know this estate well enough yet. If you wander, you might get lost...” The cook trailed off.

Arthur was already out the door.

–

The stable somehow seemed even more foreboding after dark. Laurent wasn't where Arthur had left him, so maybe Merlin had moved him to another stall. Merlin's food was growing cold, but it was hard to make progress when he couldn't see two feet in front of him. But Arthur wasn't in a particular hurry to trip over his own feet.

He nearly shot five feet up in the air when a dull light flashed in his face. Merlin stood there, looking very wary, and even more unamused. He was holding an oil lamp.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was...” Arthur steeled himself, “Is that how you talk to someone who obviously went out of his way to bring you dinner?”

Merlin faltered, “You brought me...?”

“Yes, idiot I brought you food.” Arthur said, “All the way from the house. It's cold now but you better eat it. I'm not going to have myself a malnourished stable boy.”

“I'm older than you.” Merlin said finally, most likely taking offense at how 'stable boy' rolled off Arthur's tongue. “Gaius said you were eighteen.”

“Eighteen or not, I'm still the Marquess,” Arthur reminded him tersely. “And you're advised to change your tone.”

“I thought you didn't want to be called the Marquess,” Merlin said, as he took the plate from Arthur with his free hand.

“I changed my mind.” Arthur pursed his lips, “You're to call me the Marquess until I say otherwise.” He gestured at the plate, “Now, eat.”

Merlin gave a weary sigh. “Come up to my room.”

–

Merlin's room was, to Arthur, a big closet. It was the stable loft, with a bed, an old trunk by the foot of the bed, and a bucket. Merlin set the lamp on the floor and sat down on the bed.

“Do you seriously live here?”

“Where should I live then, Marquess?” Merlin looked at him balefully, “Would you have me in a stall with the horses?”

Arthur sighed, moving to sit down on the bed next to Merlin, half expecting Merlin to tell him that he was under no circumstances, allowed to sit there. “I brought you food.” That certainly solved nothing, but you'd think Merlin would at least try to be a little bit more grateful.

“I could have gotten food myself had I wanted to eat.” Merlin said. “I didn't want to eat today.”

Arthur opened, and then closed his mouth. “You're not ill, are you?”

Merlin shrugged. “Possibly. I don't think so.” He stared up at the low ceiling. “Marquess,” he remarked mildly, “you must really hate it when people don't like you.”

He stopped there, but Arthur couldn't quite bring himself to retaliate .because Merlin had spoken truth, as ugly and cutthroat as the truth had been. “Has anyone anyone ever told you that you've got a despicable tongue?”

“Fortunately for you, my tongue is only despicable to the right people, Marquess.”

Not that Arthur worshiped his title or anything, but somehow Merlin made 'Marquess' sound filthy, as if it were an incurable disease. He held his tongue and nothing.

After a few halfhearted nibbles, Merlin clattered his plate on the floor and curled up on his bed, careful to stay away from Arthur. Arthur noted for the first time that Merlin's mattress was rather lumpy. It couldn't be comfortable, could it? But Merlin looked to be used to it. Arthur rose to his feet.

“You know, there's over a hundred other rooms...” He looked at the figure huddled on the bed, “Most of them with more comfortable beds. You're more than welcome to choose one of them.”

“I'm fine right here.” Merlin huddled closer to himself, as if to will Arthur away. “I don't want to go into that house.”

–

“Merlin hates me.” Arthur announced to Gwen that night as she smoothed his sheets.

She merely looked at him and shook her head, “You shouldn't let the others hear you talk to me like that. They'll be scandalized that I don't know my place.”

“I can talk to you in whatever way I wish. You're just my chambermaid.” Arthur sank down on soft pillows, “You've never brought this up before.”

“I never needed to.” Gwen said, stepping away from the bed, “You own the house in London. You don't own Chatsworth. It belongs to your father and these are your father's servants, your father's eyes...or have you forgotten?”

“...I haven't.” Arthur sighed heavily, turning on his side.

“Did you want him to like you?” Gwen asked.

“I don't know.” And perhaps that wasn't really quite the truth. Arthur really did not want to think about it at all.

Gwen picked up the lamp, “...Good night, Arthur.”

“Good night, Gwen.”

–

He lay awake for a long time after Gwen left. The house seemed too still, and Arthur could glean nothing from the silence. Nothing reminded him of how he grew up. Perhaps it was a good thing, it was not wise to be too sentimental in a house where his father kept eyes. He'd been told that Uther Pendragon had been down to Chatsworth to spend holidays once or twice. The other servants had been slow to divulge the Duke's company of choice, so Arthur thought he'd probably vacationed with a mistress.

Somehow, that disgusted him.

Arthur wiped sweat from his forehead and reminded himself to ask Gwen to leave him a lamp the next night so he could practice his Spanish. That would probably take his mind off of how much the house had changed.

He bolted upright though, when his door creaked open. A figure came to a stop in his doorway and just looked at him.

“Gwen...” No, it was too tall to be Gwen.

“Lancelot?”

There was silence. The shadowed face held eerily still. Maybe it was leering, maybe it was smiling. He didn't know.

“Who are you?”

Arthur blinked, and the face was gone. He rubbed at his suddenly throbbing temple, and desperately wished for sleep.

–

The next morning, Arthur supposed he must have looked a fantastic mess because everyone was fawning over him. Gwen had even dressed him, and Gaius must have asked about fifty times in one breath if he thought he had a fever, if he was ill, if he needed to rest. By the time they let him go down to breakfast, Arthur just wanted to go to sleep again.

He sipped absently at his glass of wine. It was warm, and it left his head pleasantly foggy.

After most of the kitchen staff had departed, and only Gwen and Lancelot remained, Arthur said, “...Last night.”

“Did you not sleep well?” Lancelot asked.

“I didn't sleep, at all.” Arthur said. “I saw a face. He opened my door and he looked at me. He was young.”

Gwen touched his arm in a motherly gesture, “Maybe you're ill. Were you dreaming?”

Arthur downed the rest of his wine in a vicious gulp and reached for a silk napkin. “I better have been.” He didn't believe in ghosts.

A Fortunate Fall (12/18)

raspberry_pop — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 22:41:01 GMT

banner made by toodelicious Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 5738
Progress: 12/18
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.

Previous Chapters found here: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/tag/a+fortunate+fall

--

As usual, Gedref Academy outdid themselves on everything, including Spring Open House. Arthur parked his car in the parking lot and joined the flood of other parents as he made his way into the colorfully decorated halls, with crayon-colored banners and signs. There was also a cotton candy machine situated in one corner manned by a couple of older kids, sixth graders, maybe.

Most of the people had their spouse or significant other with them, not that Arthur was really whining about his lack of one, but he didn't really want to face Alex sans Merlin at the moment. Or maybe he shouldn't have come at all. But he wasn't sure if that would have made Alex angrier. (Hell hath no fury like a five-year-old scorned.)

Merlin quit working for him. Which meant that Arthur calling Merlin on his cell and asking him to come back (at least so that he could tell the boy himself) was not an option. Arthur was still very much stuck on the fact that Merlin had quit.

And Arthur had no idea why. That bugged him almost as much as how Alex was going to take it. His son hadn't thrown a proper tantrum in the longest time, that he had almost thought that Alex grew out of them blessedly early. He had no desire to really put the theory to the test, especially in public.

He probably stepped into Alex's classroom looking like a storm cloud because Arthur noted the looks that he was currently receiving from the other parents. Miss Collins looked like she was busy making some last-minute adjustments to one of the welcome posters across the room. Alex appeared to be supervising, along with a rather bulky boy that stood next to him, Miles?

Arthur made a very mature dash over to Alex (read: he walked with purpose) and grabbed Alex's hand.

“Dad--”

“We're going home now, Alexander.” Arthur said, in a tone that booked no room for argument.

Alex's face scrunched up, preparing for the worst, “But Dad--”

“Alexander, if you want to throw a tantrum, you can do so at home. Don't argue with me, we're leaving.” Arthur managed in a tone grave enough so that Alex just slumped. The next time a parent event came up, he'd probably be infamous (not that he wasn't already) but Arthur didn't want to argue about Merlin in public with Alex.

Arthur was gripping Alex's hand so hard that it probably hurt, but he didn't let go until he made sure Alex was secure in the backseat of the car.

Alex glared at him, as venomous as a five-year-old could possibly manage. “You probably just weirded out all my friends.” He started, without missing a beat with his arms crossed, “And everyone probably thinks you're weird already anyways. Where's Merlin?”

Arthur slammed the door shut and got in the driver's seat, “Merlin quit.” He said, “As of today, he's not your au pair anymore.”

“Merlin quit?”

Arthur jerked the key in the ignition and avoided the rear view mirror. He hoped there were no cars behind him, “Yes, Alex, Merlin quit. I didn't tell him to. He just quit.”

“What'd you do?” Alex demanded.

It was a legitimate question, considering. But this time, Arthur shrugged and shook his head, “I didn't do anything this time, I promise.”

“Dad, are you lying to me?”

“Alexander, I swear I'm not lying.”

Alex's eyes narrowed in the rear view mirror. Arthur had to look once he was on the road. “Miss Collins says it's not good to swear. Riley got in trouble the other day for swearing.”

“Alex...there are two kinds of swearing.” Explaining the difference would usually annoy him, but now, Arthur welcomed the distraction. “There's the kind that means saying bad words and that probably got Riley into trouble. And then there's swearing like you promise. I promise I'm not lying.”

“Then what happened?”

“Alexander, I don't know.”

Alex tapped his fingers listlessly on the windowpane, it was a habit that he probably knew well how it annoyed his father, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to scold him for it at that particular moment.

“How do you not know?” The taps grew louder, as if that was going to change things. Arthur really felt like reaching over for the aspirin in his glove compartment, but he remembered that Alex was on the car and even if the situation was dire, he was going to do the responsible thing and refrain from popping pills with his toddler son on the car. “I bet you didn't even ask him.”

Arthur's head pricked dangerously.

“No, I didn't.”

“So you did do something.” Alex said, “You did lie. Why didn't you ask him to stay?”

He sighed again, “I don't know.”

“Dad. Adults are supposed to know these things!” He could see that Alex was chewing rather viciously on his bottom lip,

Arthur rubbed his temple, “Well, I don't know, okay?”

There was a sober silence, and then Alex went back to tapping the windowpane. “I'm not going to talk to you until Merlin comes back.”

“Alex...”

But Arthur was only met with determined silence from the back seat. When Arthur pulled the car into the garage, Alex let himself off, making a big deal about slamming the door, and then the boy stormed upstairs. Arthur went on his hunt for aspirin.

It was not until after dinner that Arthur locked himself in his study to stare at his phone. He and Alex had a late dinner, and Arthur had discovered frozen dumplings that he really did not remember buying in his fridge. He and Alex had ate them in silence, and Arthur supposed that his son had ended up inheriting the chief Pendragon traits (brooding, holding a grudge) in the worst way...somehow, he had hoped that Alex took after Gwen on this front.

It was nearly eight now. Arthur tried to think of what Merlin would be doing on a Thursday night at eight. Making sure his apartment didn't blow up, maybe. Probably. Or maybe he went out clubbing. Not that Arthur approved of that as a habit, but he wasn't going to be a hypocrite. His finger hovered hesitantly over the call button for several more seconds.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end was not Merlin's. It wasn't Mordred's, either. Arthur couldn't recall what Matthew or Will sounded like. So probably one of them.

“Hello?”

Arthur hastily cleared his throat, “May I speak with Merlin, please?”

“You're...Arthur, aren't you?”

The CEO in Arthur wanted to tell the guy, whoever he was, that he really didn't like his tone, and he'd better fix it. But this wasn't his office, nor his turf. “Yes.” He said stiffly. In fact, Arthur had ample reasons to be wary, this world didn't belong to him at all, and he was used to be control. He didn't even know who he was talking to.

“If you're Matthew, this isn't funny.” He tried again, trying to glean clues from the other end, there were voices, but Arthur couldn't tell who they were, “I actually have to speak to Merlin about something urgent.”

“I'm not Matthew, I'm Lancelot.”

Arthur almost dropped his phone. Lancelot. The name still set bells off in his head ever since Alex's blatant misinterpretation...or perhaps it wasn't a misinterpretation at all.

“Why are you answering Merlin's phone?”

“Because he asked me to and apparently Merlin has nothing to say to you.”

The click echoed soundly in his ears, and Arthur weighed his phone idly in his hands, wondering if it would make a hole in the wall if he threw it. Though he did finally settle on keeping his wall intact and going to the kitchen to pour himself a drink instead. It was early, but since Alex was avoiding him like the plague--

It was ironic, really. He supposed Merlin had grown on both of them, and Alex was growing up...he hadn't thrown a tantrum about the absence of his mother. Not that Arthur had tried very hard to explain it to him. Alex was a smart kid, but at the age of two, he wanted to keep his son a innocent kid for a little while longer.

This wasn't exactly like that. With a heavy sigh, Arthur drained the rest of his glass. It looked to be an unforgivably long night.

–-

There were pizza boxes stacked up on the coffee table and there were a couple of beer stains on the carpet that needed to be cleaned with bleach later. Merlin hoped that the landlord wasn't going to bust on in (but that was improbable considering the landlord lived down in Florida), otherwise, he couldn't really bring himself to care. Right now, he liked things to be disorderly, he had pizza grease coating his fingers, and the couch sagged dangerously with the weight of too many people.

At the moment, the poor decade-old couch held Merlin, Lancelot, Matthew, Matthew's girlfriend Elise, Mordred, Valerie and Celia. There was a movie on, but he was gone enough to not know the name. Will and Stephanie shared the armchair, and Lancelot handed him back his phone.

“Was I too harsh?”

Merlin shrugged. He didn't want to think about Arthur at all. Right now he just wanted something familiar. Pizza and beer and Lancelot on a too-crowded couch was nice because it was something he understood. He didn't understand Arthur; he didn't understand Gwen's letters to Arthur, Merlin only...

“You all right?”

Lancelot handed him another beer and Merlin took it, it was getting to be lukewarm, but who the hell cared? He thought this was the worst part of misery. Taking a large gulp of the beer, he wiped his mouth.

“I don't know.”

“Don't tell me Arthur finally fired you.” Mordred glanced over. “Honestly--” He broke off abruptly, perhaps the way Merlin was eying beer can was a good indicator to stop talking. “Look, if it's like that, it's probably not worth it.”

And the worst part of it was, that Merlin didn't know. He must have picked up a load of bad habits from Arthur though, convenient headaches included.

“It's not like that.”

Will said, “Mordred, don't harass your brother.”

“I'm so not harassing him.”

Lancelot rescued him, “Want to go for a walk?”

“I think I might be a little too drunk for a walk.” Merlin said.

“Lucky for you, I think I might really be alcohol-tolerant. Working in a bar helps with that like nothing else.” Lancelot got up from the couch, and offered a gallant hand. His getting up from the couch practically threw everything off balance, someone's elbow (maybe Mordred's) dug very hard into Merlin's ribs. “So no excuses. Come on, up.”

–-

Lancelot ended up carrying him, and Merlin was glad that it was late so that no one would be able to see. It was sort of embarrassing. He ended up hiccuping into the crook of Lancelot's neck a couple of times before he managed to form words.

“Some walk.”

Lancelot glanced back at him, “I wouldn't complain if I were you, Merlin.” He said mildly, “I'm the one doing all the walking.”

“If I wasn't drunk, I'd walk.” Merlin mumbled, “Arthur loves his wife.”

“If he didn't, he probably wouldn't have married her.” Lancelot said.

“But she's not here and he still loves her.” Merlin said, sounding suspiciously like Alex from earlier, perhaps he had a mentality of a five-year-old when he was drunk. “She wrote him letters, you know. And he reads them, over and over again. They're beautiful letters. That's not fair. I can't even--”

“Merlin...”

“Look at me. I'm so pathetic.” Merlin's rubbed his forehead against Lancelot's shoulder. “I couldn't even look at him. I couldn't do it.”

“So you're just leaving Alex?” Lancelot asked, “The kid adores you like a mother.”

“...Well, yeah, I'm not sure how I feel about that. The kid had a mother.” Merlin said glumly, “And she was probably wonderful.”

“But she isn't here. You've never met her. Arthur's never mentioned her, she obviously doesn't live with him or anything. He's fair game.” Lancelot put him down, and Merlin swayed dangerously, he would have fallen had Lancelot not grasped his shoulders, holding onto them tight, keeping him upright.

“But he reads her letters. He misses her.” Merlin's eyes stung. “And I'm like her. His sister told me. Arthur probably thinks I'm his dead wife. He thinks I'm Guinevere.”

“...It's pretty hard to mistake you for a girl, Merlin. I don't think Arthur's so delusional. You can't be his wife. I think, he, of all people, would know that very well.”

“I feel disgusting.”

“You aren't.” Lancelot folded him in and rocked him. “You're probably just impossibly in love.”

“You sound like you live on chick flicks.” For some reason, he found that funny, and the knot in his chest eased a little.

“Takes one to know one.” Lancelot shrugged, “...No, actually, all four of my brothers went through divorce, the more adventurous ones try it twice. It's traumatizing. I offer them TLC too.”

–

Long story short, the talk with Lancelot did not bode over well, and the next morning, Merlin refused to get out of bed. It was one of those days where everything was a bit slow, and everyone had the decency to walk on eggshells around him (Matthew was probably being blackmailed by Will, or Mordred, or maybe both). Mordred brought him cereal, Will wanted to know if Merlin wanted him to pick up some painkillers on his way home. Matthew promised to take out the trash.

All Merlin wanted to do was sleep. Lancelot called him, Arthur called him (three times). He turned his phone off.

“Merlin. You can't keep doing this forever. Give Arthur some credit.” Mordred leaned against the door frame and watched him, “They're stupid letters anyway, probably.”

“They're letters from his wife that are seven years old.” Merlin wondered if he sounded hysterical. Probably, he did. “He still reads them.”

“Well, then Arthur's a sentimental old fart.”

That sounded suspiciously literary. It was a small comfort to know that Mordred was at least trying to keep up with his school work the last few weeks of school.

“He is not.”

“And you're still so fucking protective of him, it's unbelievable.”

“Just go away.” Merlin snuggled deeper into his pillow.

“Do you think everything is solved by me going away?”

“Ngh.”

Mordred pulled back his covers, “Look at me.”

“Go to school.”

Merlin blinked sleep from his eyes, shoulders tensed for battle as he stared up as his younger brother. Mordred suddenly looked a lot more imposing than Merlin had ever remembered, his mother always used to say that Mordred looked like the father he only remembered bits and pieces of.

“Arthur won't hurt you, I don't think.” Mordred spoke hesitantly, “He's not like that Sean guy or Langston. Arthur is different. He knows, you know.”

“Knows what?” Merlin prompted him tiredly.

“...You know, love. How it is. It probably will be...all right. And if it isn't, I'm still gonna kick his ass and you're not going to stop me.” Mordred mumbled the rest and practically tripped over his own feet in his eagerness to get to the door, “I'm going to go now. Celia's probably waiting for me.”

Merlin only stared blankly after him.

–

Arthur was late in getting out of the house. Ten minutes late, but still late. He ordered a bagel for Alex and the boy wrapped it up in a napkin (to throw away when he got to school.)

“I'll call Morgana and she'll be here to pick you up at two, okay?”

Alex looked at him and nodded. He hitched his backpack on his shoulders, and then left.

Arthur wanted to hit his head on something. He had hoped it was a bad hallucination, but Merlin hadn't shown up at eight, and Alex was still carrying on his vow of silence like he was actually serious.

He called Morgana.

“Merlin quit?” Her voice bit shrilly into his ear and Arthur immediately held the phone away, as if it had set his ears on fire, “What the hell did you do this time?”

“I didn't do anything.”

She sounded like Alex, except a lot more pissed off. “He wouldn't just up and quit.”

“He did. I've called him five times and he won't answer.”

“Have you even been by to see him?”

“No...”

“Are you sure that you haven't done anything colossally stupid and then forgot about it?” She still seemed unconvinced. “You have selective memory loss when it comes to these things. What do you want me to do?”

“Pick up Alex at two?” Arthur bit back his pride, “...I promise I won't be late.”

“You better not be.” She said, and then her voice grew genuinely concerned, “Is Merlin all right?”

“You know, you'd probably be better off asking me something I do know.” Arthur said sourly, “Like how I'm holding up.”

“You're probably confused.” She said, “I don't need to ask that. Yes, I'll pick up Alex, you better not be late. And if I find out from Alex that you have done something colossally stupid, I'm never speaking to you again.”

–

A week passed like that. Merlin didn't leave the house. The missed calls on his phone from Arthur crept up to twenty, and he almost wanted to block his number. But didn't.

Matthew learned to cook, it was rather disastrous the first time, but Merlin still looked so miserable that no one could really bring themselves to laugh. And the second time, they found that he had a niche for boiling noodles. So they let him do that.

Mordred made himself scarce, and when Mordred did that, it usually meant that he was mad at Merlin for something. He found it sort of ridiculous that Mordred was mad at him for Arthur. It didn't make any sense.

He forced himself not to think about Arthur, but thoughts of Arthur still popped up anyway, when Merlin least expected them to.

–

Sans Merlin, Arthur was numb. It'd been a week, a week that he had spent heavily hungover, and he wondered how he had gotten along before. He'd gotten so used to having someone waiting for him at home—in fact, he took such a gesture almost for granted, and now the house was dark. It was also too big.

And still, Alex refused to speak to him. He wasn't stonewalling Arthur in complete silence anymore, but instead took to answering his father using monosyllables, speaking as little as possible. It didn't take long for Arthur to realize that Alexander did mean business. And he called Merlin religiously, twice a day, although Merlin never picked up.

It didn't seem fair. Actually, it wasn't fair. At all.

“Hey, this is Merlin. I'm not here to answer the phone right now, leave a message and I'll call you right back. Thanks.”

After the obligatory beep, Arthur sucked in a deep breath, and waited a few seconds. “Merlin, it's me, Arthur. Whatever I did, I'm sorry. Would you please at least call and tell me so I can apologize properly?”

–

Merlin must have played the message ten, twenty times. It was the first message that Arthur had ever left him, and it was the first time in a week that he had heard Arthur's voice outside of his own head. Arthur wanted him to call. And Merlin desperately wanted to.

But what would he say? You love your wife and that's not fair to me? That hardly seemed apt. Arthur had every right to adore and love his wife, even after she was gone from him. Merlin was the one that had no right to ask anything of Arthur. Arthur lived a life that was far too glorious and sophisticated for him; for entertainment, Arthur sought fancy restaurants and opera houses. Merlin was quite happy with pizza and beer, maybe a rented DVD from the video store.

He got up heavily from the couch to fetch a can of soda when the doorbell rang, three times, as if his visitor never let go of the button. It was the afternoon, and most of the people who visited had keys, usually. The only one that did was Matthew's girlfriend, and Merlin couldn't think of a reason why she'd want to visit.

“Coming.”

Merlin unlocked the door to reveal--

“Alex.”

He did a double take. But it was Alexander Pendragon standing in his doorway, arms crossed, looking supremely unamused as only a five-year-old could. His hair was also tousled, and his collar wasn't turned right.

Out of habit, Merlin turned his collar and smoothed his hair. “Alex, what are you doing here? Where's Arthur?”

“Dad's at work and doesn't know I'm here.” The boy looked up at him, “I took the bus from school.”

“But isn't there someone there to pick you up?” Merlin insisted, “We're going back to the school right now, you shouldn't be here. Come on.”

“You can't make me leave.” Alex planted himself squarely in the doorway. “I'm not leaving here until you tell me why you quit. Dad did something, didn't he?”

“Alex, this has nothing to do with your dad. It's just me.” Merlin shook his head, wondering if his voice also shook. “I just can't, okay. Don't ask me to explain it.” He knelt down, making sure to look Alex in the eye. “I'm taking you back to school, okay?”

“But I miss you!” Alex's arms were suddenly around him, squeezing him tight, “I miss you lots! And Dad hasn't been saying anything, but I know he misses you too. Please talk to him? I know he's an idiot, but he'll try hard not to be.”

Another time, he would have found that funny. Merlin held him. “Alex, I can't.” He said, “I can't work for Arthur anymore.”

“I can't be that annoying.” Alex's voice cracked just a little, “I'll promise not to be annoying if you come back. Please?”

“Alex, you're the best kid I know.” Merlin pulled back slightly, Alex's eyes were watery. After fumbling around in his pockets, he came up with a clean tissue. “Hell, I wish Mordred was more like you when he was growing up. But I can't work for Arthur anymore.”

“You're mean.” Alex sniffed.

“Sorry.” Merlin lifted him up, “Let's go back to school, your Aunt Morgana must be worried sick about you.”

“It's Uncle Orwaine today, and he said he's going to be late.” Alex clung to him still, “You're still mean.”

–

Orwaine didn't usually have 'emergencies' like this, but Arthur had a feeling that his wife put him up to it. Morgana had never been the kindest sister in the world, and she probably still blamed Merlin quitting on her brother. Not that he didn't deserve it, but still. At least he could leave everything in capable hands, Chris was certainly catching on well and Kaye was always around to be helpful.

Margaret even subtly approved of him leaving work early. And that almost scared the hell out of him, since it was Margaret—a workaholic if he ever knew one. Normally, Arthur would have welcomed such an opportunity, but Alex was still speaking to him in one-word sentences. He really was not looking forward to that. Arthur didn't think it was possible, but apparently, Alex could get on his nerves.

Arthur treated himself to a few drags on a cigarette that suddenly didn't taste very good before getting out of the car.

As he neared the school entrance though, Arthur stopped short.

“You have to promise me to start speaking to your father again, okay, Alex? It's not his fault.”

“But you're still not coming back. Why?” Alex was short of stamping his foot.

Merlin, Merlin worn in a thin t-shirt and jeans, but still Merlin.

He wondered if Merlin had been eating. Arthur's chest lifted and fell at the same time. It made for awkward breathing. Or perhaps that could have just been side effects from the cigarette that he shouldn't have been smoking. “Yes, Merlin.” He spoke before he thought, “Why is that? Most employers usually do demand a resignation letter. And as far as I'm concerned, you've never bothered to turn one in to me.”

Merlin was tense as he turned, “...Arthur.” He nodded tersely.

Arthur didn't like it that Merlin's eyes were as dark and morose as he'd ever seen them. Merlin had also managed to procure dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't been sleeping. Alex held tight to Merlin's hand, and Arthur thought the boy looked dangerously close to a tantrum. Again, he didn't want to test the theory.

He sighed, “Let's do this like civilized people and don't make a scene, everyone already thinks I'm strange. Get in the car, Merlin, I'll drive you home.”

It was a small victory for Arthur, as Merlin wordlessly followed.

The drive back to Merlin's apartment was so silent that it was borderline painful. The smell of smoke in the car was still more or less noticeable, and even if Alex didn't take note, Arthur knew Merlin most likely did. His lips were pursed the whole way, and Arthur turned on the radio to a nondescript violin concerto to keep from suffocating.

When Arthur pulled up to the curb, he could see that Merlin was ready for a fast escape. He already had his seat belt unbuckled and was just about ready to bolt. Merlin wouldn't even look at him.

Without a second thought, Arthur yanked his keys from the ignition. “I'm walking you up.” He announced casually. “Alex, stay in the car.”

Merlin immediately cowered like a cornered rat, “Arthur, you really don't have to. You've already done enough.”

Arthur reached out and clamped a hand down on Merlin's wrist, hard, “Don't make me do this in front of Alexander.” he said.

Merlin winced, “Let go of me. Maybe we shouldn't do this at all--”

“Merlin.”

“...All right.” Sounding thoroughly resigned, Merlin got out of the car. Arthur followed closely.

“Alex, make sure the doors are locked and don't let anyone in. I'll be right back.”

–

One thing hadn't changed, Merlin thought warily as Arthur followed him up the stairs. His heart still hadn't managed to learn exactly how to beat right when Arthur was close. Arthur seemed to be waiting for him to speak, though. It took a few more steps before Merlin found the courage to suck in a deep breath.

“Arthur...I've been an idiot.”

Arthur looked like he would be inclined to agree, but for once, was polite enough to keep that opinion where it belonged. He tilted his head, Merlin guessed as an invitation to keep talking.

“I...um.” Merlin swallowed hard, “I saw the letters. I read them.” His chest felt undeniably heavy, “The ones your wife wrote to you.”

Arthur at once paled, “You...” He even faltered, “You read them?”

“You left them lying around on your desk.” It took so much to force words out of his mouth that Merlin spoke determinedly to his shoes. “I...I found them when I cleaned up your desk.” (Like Arthur had left his engagement ring lying around years ago. Forgetfulness probably grew on people like a parasite.)

A strangled silence hung between them. Finally, as if his shoelaces offered some unspoken solace, Merlin spoke again. “You love her, Arthur.” his voice was agonizing.

“Yes, I do. More than I have ever loved anyone.” Arthur affirmed quietly, with an unreadable face.

“So you should love her....and let me leave.” Merlin turned away from him, “Arthur, your life is too complicated for me. You always hurt yourself, and I feel like I don't know you at all. What with all the drinking, and the smoking, and the headaches...you didn't do any of that when you had Gwen, didn't you?”

“Merlin...”

“Maybe I did know it...but there's not a place here for me, Arthur.” Merlin shook his head, “I don't know how I can stay.”

“Alex adores you.” Arthur said. “He even stopped speaking to me.”

“Doesn't that bother you? That Alex likes me and doesn't remember his own mother?”

This was one of those times when Arthur Pendragon appeared to Merlin to be impossibly old—as if being thirty was already the end of the world. “Merlin...I wouldn't leave Alex with you for the better part of the day most times if it did bother me. Sometimes, your logic still astounds me.” There was a pause, and Merlin guessed Arthur was determined to hurry on before he had a chance to be offended, “...I think it's better if Alex didn't remember her. He'd...probably be miserable. I can't have him living with that.”

“Like you?” Merlin pressed before he could stop himself.

Arthur nodded. It was most likely a nod that took a lot of effort, and Merlin's heart was suddenly in his throat again. “Alexander...is happier than I've ever seen him. Thanks to you. Alex needs you, Merlin.”

“And Arthur, do you?”

Arthur looked at him.

“Do you need me?”

Then Arthur was holding him. Being held by Arthur was different from being held by Lancelot. Arthur made Merlin feel like he was floating and drowning at the same time with his throat closed up tight. Tentatively, he wound his arms around Arthur's neck...and Arthur let him. Merlin guessed his eyes were welling up with relief, and he was so glad Arthur couldn't see.

“I think...I've needed you since the first time I met you.” Arthur's breath was warm against his ear, “You really are an idiot. I honestly thought you knew me better than that.”

“I...I think I better step away so I don't get your shirt dirty.” Merlin squirmed a little, but he only managed to get far enough away so that his head was no longer on Arthur's shoulder.

“You're not going anywhere.” Arthur looked at him. “I'm not going to let you.” Merlin's face was wet and Arthur thought he looked ridiculous, but he wouldn't have anything—anyone else. “You're going to trust me enough to work this out, okay?”

“Arthur...”

“We're going to work this out. And you're going to help me by not running away.” Arthur leaned forward and kissed him, Merlin tasted wet. But that was kind of to be expected.

“You've been smoking again.” Merlin set his chin stubbornly, “And no, I didn't.”

“It's not like I could help it.” Arthur said. “And you're an idiot.”

“So you've told me a million times.” But Merlin couldn't bring himself to sound angry. Arthur was calling him an idiot, things were almost normal again. “What use do you have for an idiot, anyway?”

There were underlying questions beneath that one. Ones that Arthur didn't want to address at the moment. “Not everyone is lucky enough to have their own personal idiot, Merlin. I consider myself fortunate.”

Merlin's grin this time was a weary one, “That's not one of your underhanded compliments, is it?”

“What do you mean, underhanded?” Arthur blinked at him, feigning nonchalance. “A compliment is a compliment, you just can't handle subtleties. That's completely your own fault.” He let go, “See you at work tomorrow?”

“I...”

“What?”

Merlin took a deep breath, “Nothing. Never mind.” He shook his head and reached forward for one of Arthur's hands. Maybe it would be all right. “Yeah, I'll see you at work...tomorrow.”

“Good.” Arthur gave his hand a brief squeeze and turned to the stairs, “I'll look forward to that.”

A Fortunate Fall (11/18)

raspberry_pop — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 01:41:53 GMT

banner made by toodelicious Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 5708
Progress: 11/18
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: I was really kind of worried that this chapter wouldn't be done on time, since I got stuck a grand total of six times. But in the nick of time, I made it, and I think this chapter grew on me while I was writing it. I love you all for commenting and reading <33

Previous Chapters found here: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/tag/a+fortunate+fall

--

It was nine o' clock in the morning.

Evidently, Sophia hadn't been lying when she said she'd come down with the flu (Else Arthur thought she would have thrown even a bigger fit.) She opened the door to Arthur with a very red nose, huddling with a thick blanket over her shoulders and Arthur thought that maybe she'd lost at least ten pounds. “Arthur.” She mustered a smile, “I thought you'd forgot about me.”

Arthur felt sorry for her. In one hand, he held the bag containing the stuff from her desk, mostly mementos, and in his other hand, he had a plastic cup of clam soup from the deli. He was never really good at playing the caring boyfriend, and she didn't give him any incentive to try. When he didn't say anything, she paused, and then beckoned at him.

“Want to come in?”

And no, Arthur really didn't. He just wanted to get this over with without feeling too sorry for her. But she lived in a nice complex, with mostly old people. He really didn't want to make a scene out here in the hallway so that everyone could peek their heads out and gossip. He shrugged and stepped in.

“That's mine.” She stated simply, pointing to the bag.

“Yes, it is.”

Sophia looked at him, Arthur guessed she was trying to look somewhat stern, except that she was blowing her nose, and that just kind of ruined everything. “Why?”

Arthur's head prickled, here was the confrontation he was most eager to avoid. He put the cup of soup down on the table. Her place was clean, and almost everything was either glass or porcelain. Honestly, he hoped that she wasn't going to start throwing things; it would probably hurt. “Sophia. Once you get that internship in Madrid, you won't even work for me anymore.”

“So you fired me.” She tossed her head to the side, gathering long blonde hair in her hands. “I see.”

“Sophia. I'm doing you a favor.” Arthur said, “You don't even need this job. Your father gives you all the money you need. Think about it, you can have more time working on your portfolio, and fashion design's not not my field, but I'm sure I can find someone--”

“Arthur.” She cut him off abruptly. “Stop it.”

Arthur rubbed his throbbing temple. “Sophia.”

“Arthur, do you think I'm stupid?”

He bit his lip. “I—I don't, look, what I think doesn't matter anyway. I just think that you can do much better than working as my secretary. I work withcomputers.”

“That's not what I asked you. And why should that even matter? Can't I just like you?” Sophia looked at him, “I can't even tell what you're thinking half the time. If I'm not stupid, then what am I? Do you find me disgusting?”

Merlin had said the same thing. That he liked him, and Arthur liked it better when Merlin thought to say it. When Sophia said it, it made him feel impossibly guilty. The door was tantalizingly close, Arthur just wanted to bolt. “No. It's not that.”

“Is it because I'm nothing like your wife?”

Her words stung. The back of his eyes felt unnaturally hot. “My wife has nothing to do with this. You've no right to speak about her like this.” (So she did notice.)

“You're cheating on her. And all this time, you were just using me.”

Yes, Arthur guessed he was. That part, he would not deny. Where Guinevere Leogrance was calm, collected, and sweet; Sophia Tirmore was young, naive, and had a horrible temper. “I'm not cheating on my wife.” He was suddenly tired.

“Then what is that?” She pointed to his ring.

“It's just...” He faltered momentarily, closing his palm into a tight fist, shoving it inside his pocket, “Look. We were never going to work, you knew that. I'm sorry.”

“Arthur Pendragon, you're horrible.” She spat at him and blew her nose with a fresh piece of tissue, scrunching it up. “I actually thought you were a good person.”

Arthur wasn't going to deny that either. The part of him that liked to see her like this...wanted to tell her that she had always been a horrible judge of character. Arthur Pendragon didn't have the chance to be a nice person—let alone a 'good' person. Now seemed like a good time as any to make his exit. “You thought wrong.”

“I hate you.”

That didn't sting so much, actually.

But once Arthur was back in his car, he searched for the bottle of aspirin he kept in his glove compartment, swallowed two dry, and drove back to the office. He was already late.

“I hate my new haircut.” Alex pouted. “My bangs feel itchy.”

Merlin glanced at him in the rear view mirror, “I think your haircut makes you look very stylish. I'm sure all the girls will like you a lot.”

“You're teasing me.” Alex whined, “Stop it.”

Well, Merlin did think that Alex's new haircut made him look very stylish. Granted, the hairdresser was probably very annoyed, because Alex couldn't quite stay still while he was getting his hair cut—making for a couple of strange angles; but for the most part, it ended up looking very well. “I'm not teasing, I honestly think it looks good. If the bangs bug you, I'll just fix them for you when we get back home.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Alex seemed instantly brighter, Merlin noted as he turned the corner. When a beat passed, he asked, “Hey, Alex, what would you like for lunch? When we get back, it's going to be a little late for me to cook.”

“I dunno.” Then, after a moment, “Can we go eat with Dad? I think he's having lunch now too. You've never been to where he works, right? It's really cool up there, although he won't let me touch anything.”

“I um.” Merlin had his own reservations about that. Even though Arthur worked in the computer field, he still held a very public position as the head of a company. He wasn't sure what having a kid and the kid's caretaker at the office would do for Arthur's reputation.

“He won't care.”

Merlin finally decided on a compromise, fishing his phone from his pocket, he tossed it back, “Just in case. Call your dad and ask, okay? If he says okay, then we'll go.” He was about to ask Alex if he knew how to use a cell phone, but he figured that it was a dumb question.

Arthur Pendragon's day went from not-so-good, to hell. After his somewhat-talk with Sophia, he'd gone back to the office and spent a good hour supervising Margaret as she interview personal secretary hopefuls. That just intensified his headache even more. And then, he found out, well...listing also meant meeting with a board of directors—which he hadn't known existed. Kaye ushered him to the conference room looking supremely unperturbed.

There were twelve men in all, all of them wore identical colorless suits and wore colorless faces. They were all old, above forty, and Kaye introduced them one by one. They all had long names like Lucien Sainte-Gallivan, Thomas Henry Langhorn-Granger. And to think he used to think that Arthur Pendragon was long.

Kaye was talking again, and a thick file almost thwacked him on the head. Arthur flipped through it, a short summary of holdings, and numbers. Pages of numbers, Arthur's short stint as an Economics' minor in his junior year told him that he didn't really like numbers.

He was on the verge of actually nodding off when his phone buzzed. Although all heads turned uniformly in his direction, Arthur had never been so happy to see the name 'Merlin Emrys' flash on his screen.

“Mr. Pendragon...” Kaye looked to him, disapproving. Arthur almost winced. Never before, had his surname sounded so ominous.

“I have to take this.” Arthur got hurriedly to his feet, “It's about my son.” When no one said anything, he made his exit and hightailed it back to his office.

“Merlin, I love you, you're a lifesaver.” The words slipped out before he could take them back, because Arthur really did love him at the moment.

There was a brief pause at the other end. “Okay, I'll tell him.” There was a muffled, “Hey, Merlin! Dad says he loves you!”

Alex. Arthur nearly dropped the phone and he thought he heard honking. “Alexander.”

“You made Merlin run a red light.” Alex reported, almost giddy, “Yeah?”

“You shouldn't say stuff like that to him when he's driving.” Arthur admonished him, “Did you need to ask me something?”

“Yeah, I did. Can you eat lunch with us?”

“I'm working.”

“How about if we bring food over there? I can tell Merlin where the deli is.”

Arthur glanced quickly at his watch, it was getting to be one. He usually took his lunch break around then, but right now, it wasn't looking like Kaye was running out of steam yet. But he didn't really want to go back to the conference room and sit out the rest of the meeting. “Okay, sure. I don't see why not. Can you be obnoxious about it?”

“Ob-what?” Alex sounded confused.

“Ask Merlin.” Arthur sank down at his desk.

“Oh, all right then.” Alex agreed amiably, “I'll see you?”

“Mm hm. Bye, Alex.”

Merlin was still a little shaken from the “Hey, Merlin! Dad says he loves you!” but he managed to purchase lunch at what apparently was one of Arthur's favorite delis without the manager giving him looks. They bought lamb sandwiches, salad, and clam soup, which Merlin instructed Alex at least three times not to spill.

“Okay, okay, jeez. It's not like you can't trust me...you sound like a mom.”

Did he? Merlin had to wonder, would Guinevere have nagged at her son like this? Probably not. Alex was a bright kid, but repetition was a hard habit to break, considering the kinds of people Merlin lived with. “Sorry.”

Alex just shrugged. “...Hey, what's a really long word that begins with 'ob'? Dad said it to me on the phone.”

Merlin thought for a minute, “Obnoxious?” It was the first word he could think of, with 'oblivious' running a close second.

“Yeah, that. What does that mean? Dad said when you come up, be really obnoxious, I don't know what that means.”

“It means...to be really loud and annoying. Why would Arthur want me to be obnoxious?” Merlin glanced a tall, approaching building. “Do I turn here?”

“Yep. I dunno, he just did.”

Margaret March was Arthur's temporary secretary, it looked like. Her desk was a neat mess, and her hair was perfect. She was on the phone, and she smiled distractedly at Alex “Hey...I'll be right with you, just a minute. No, Ms. Ling, Mr. Pendragon is not available on next Thursday afternoon. It'll have to be Friday. No, no trouble, I understand. Have a nice day.”

Merlin was in awe of Arthur's building, well, a nice chunk of it, anyway. Alex proudly affirmed that his father did indeed own three floors out of the ten in the building. The furniture looked distinctly custom made, the chandelier that hung above his head looked decidedly expensive. Arthur Pendragon was way out of his league.

“And this is Merlin.” Alex was saying, giving his hand a tug, “We bought Dad lunch, can I see him? Please?”

“Alex, your father is in a meeting. You can wait for him in his office, though. I don't know what time he'll be done.” Margaret said this all in one breath, “And it's very nice to meet you, Merlin, I'm sorry. You caught us on a hectic day.”

That was probably a veiled invitation for them to leave. Merlin felt tempted to obey, until Arthur peeked his head out behind a door, he looked hassled.

“Alexander, I could hear you a mile off. And good, you got food.” Arthur opened the door, beckoning at them. “I'm starving, hurry up.”

–

“See, we bought you lamb sandwiches, salad, and clam soup.” Alex looked very small in Arthur's spare chair. “...Dad, are you okay?”

“Depends on what you'd define as 'okay'.” Arthur said resignedly. “I spoke to Sophia this morning. I broke it off with her, permanently.”

Merlin wore a sober expression, “You didn't have to do that. Was she upset?”

Arthur reached for Merlin's hand, and felt gratified as the slender fingers threaded through his own. Alex, struck by some inspiration, went stood guard by the door, leaving the chair. Arthur let that go for now, “...How can you even say that? Of course I had to, and yes, she was. Very. Threw a college girl hissy fit, I haven't been a victim of one of those in years.”

“Deja vu?” Merlin suggested, sounding entirely too cheery as he ran his thumb along Arthur's palm.

“I don't like what you're implying.” But Arthur wasn't so impartial to the way Merlin's skin felt against his. “Can we just leave it at the fact that yes, I'm having a terrible day and you're supposed to make it better?”

“Were you expecting me to make it better?” To that, Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Quite a tall order, considering all your days are more or less shitty.” But somehow, he made it over to where Arthur was sitting, and straddled his lap while still standing up. Arthur felt his breathing hitch.

“Merlin.”

“Look, just eat something. I know for a fact that you didn't eat breakfast this morning. It'd make you feel better.” Merlin stepped away, “Alex, stop gawking and step away from the door, you need to eat too.”

Arthur watched as his son sidled away from the door and climbed back into the chair, Merlin wielded a plastic knife with surprising grace and set half a sandwich on a plate for Alex.

“By the way, Alex, nice hair cut.” Arthur said.

“Merlin said he'd fix the bangs when we get home.” Alex told him through a mouthful, “The guy made it too long.”

Arthur picked up his own sandwich, “I think it looks fine. Don't talk with your mouth full, please.”

“But the bangs are itchy.” Alex wrinkled his nose, “Merlin, aren't you going to sit down?”

Merlin had made himself comfortable standing against the wall. He certainly looked, comfortable, but Arthur doubted it was. “Yes, Merlin, sit down. You're making me edgy just standing there.”

“Where? I guess I can go get a chair, if you so prefer.”

No, Arthur didn't want Merlin to leave. He was prone to paranoia at the office and even had his door on an automatic lock. “...Or you could just sit...on my lap. You're practically anorexic.”

“Excuse you?” But between sounding offended and surprised, Arthur thought Merlin sounded a little pleased, too. He made his way over to where Arthur sat again. “That's not really a convincing line. You're out of practice.”

Arthur half glowered at him, trying to keep his cheeks from growing too warm, “Just sit. I'm your boss, do as I say.”

Merlin obeyed, wearing a little knowing smirk as he did. It felt a little awkward, but Alex looked on with little interest; evidentlyhe was much more interested in chasing the clams that floated in his soup. Somehow or the other, Arthur managed to work one arm around Merlin's waist without seeming entirely hopeless.

Merlin rubbed the back of Arthur's hand with his thumb.

And before he left, Merlin kissed him on the forehead and whispered, “See you at home.” And Arthur had to duck his red face behind the palm of his hand—it'd been years since he had blushed like that. He half forgave Merlin though, for eliciting such a reaction from him when he convinced Alex that his father had choked on a hot pepper.

–

“So you and Dad worked everything out?” Alex wanted to know as he climbed into bed.

Merlin stared thoughtfully at Alex's bookshelf, “...Not quite everything.” He admitted. He made a mental note to himself to visit a children's bookstore sometime. “But we're getting there.”

“Soon?” The boy pressed.

Merlin wandered back to Alex's bedside and sat on the edge of the bed, “I don't know, Alex, it depends on your father.”

“Is Dad being an idiot?”

That had Merlin staring at his charge, looking more than a little lost. “...Alex, that's not it. And anyway, you shouldn't be saying that about Arthur, I mean, your dad. Your dad misses your mother, very much. These things take time.”

“But Mom's not here! And you are! And it's not fair. And it's been a long time! A month and a half.”

Merlin felt his own eyes stinging. “Alex, your mother loves you very much. I'm sure of it. She wouldn't have liked it very much if you said that.”

“If she loves me, she'd be here.” Alex glared at him, “Why isn't my mother here?” His voice cracked, just a little as he lunged forward.

Merlin just held him for a long time, and rocked him until he fell asleep. He wished he had an answer.

–

It was nearly eleven-thirty when Merlin heard the front door crack open, he was half asleep on the couch, resting his head on an embroidered cushion.

“Merlin?”

“Yeah.”

Arthur sounded exhausted. Merlin felt his foot being nudged. “Move your feet, I want to sit.”

Merlin did. Arthur sank down on the couch beside him. “That bad, huh?”

“I think in the six hours you've left me, I stood up once to yell at some people.” As if to prove his point, Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. “My back is killing me.”

Merlin was quiet for a minute, a part of him just wanted to hold Arthur and put the pieces back. But that would prove difficult, as he didn't know where or what half the pieces were. So he did the next best thing. “...I'll fix it for you. Come here.”

So apparently, Arthur was comfortable enough with him to lie on top of him...an improvement, but Merlin wasn't going to push his luck by commenting on it.

“You're always fixing me, it feels like.” Arthur mumbled vaguely against his collarbone.

His heart was suddenly in his throat. Merlin concentrated on rubbing a tangle of bruised muscle near the small of Arthur's back for a few minutes before he dared to speak again. How Arthur must feel, being fixed by someone like him-- “I don't really. You're just stubborn.”

A contented sigh escaped from Arthur's lips, “And you're just entirely too modest. Can't you even recognize a stupid compliment when you hear it?”

“Not if it's about me.” Merlin grinned at him in the dark. “But thank you. I appreciate that.”

“You've better. Or else you're an idiot.”

Merlin bit back the urge to tell him that Alex was also of the same opinion regarding his father, but that wouldn't have been playing fair. His hands moved up, exploring the ridges of Arthur's spine, memorizing how it felt, since Arthur hadn't exactly told him to stop yet. “I guess.”

Arthur made a little noise against the hollow of Merlin's throat and Merlin almost stopped breathing.

“Oh.”

“Arthur.” For some reason, Merlin couldn't quite speak properly, either.

And when Arthur leaned precariously close and kissed him, licking at his mouth tentatively, Merlin couldn't think at all.

–

Arthur certainly felt like a re-certified teenaged boy after a heated make out session. Except this time, the object of his affections wasn't a girl with her shirt hiked up, it was Merlin. Merlin Emrys, looking decidedly dazed, but fully dressed and sated. His lips were bruised and red, but Arthur supposed that he himself couldn't have looked any better. They both hung precariously off the couch, until Merlin shifted and rolled both of him onto the carpet.

“...Arthur, what...was that?” Merlin's voice was hoarse.

“I just...wanted to.”

Merlin's lips found his again, warm, wanting. “I'm glad.” Arthur thought his voice was shaking too, just a little. “And now, I think I should do the honorable thing and take the bus home.”

“I could drive you.” Arthur offered, although he was more or less concentrated on how Merlin's mouth was kissing his jaw. It made forming words difficult.

“You could, yes.” Merlin agreed, pulling away just slightly, “But I think it's in your best interest if you get some sleep. You'll see me bright and early tomorrow.”

–

Besides, Merlin couldn't have trusted himself to be a hundred percent honorable, if he'd stayed any longer. Arthur seemed a little too eager, and Merlin's brain was mush. Nothing good could have happened there. But still, he woke up in a ridiculously good mood and almost scared Mordred half to death:

“Christ, Merlin.” His brother was pouring himself cereal in the kitchen, “Someone looks happy.”

Merlin just grinned at him, “...I'm happy.”

“Yeah, so happy that it's creepy as hell.” Mordred muttered, “You and Arthur finally took a tumble, right?”

“We didn't have sex.” But that didn't shake the grin from his face, either.

“Must have been one hell of a wet dream, then. I was sort of under the impression that you're too prudish to have those.” Mordred gulped down the rest of his orange juice in a hurry. “Don't even.”

–

Arthur, as it turned out, was also in a pretty ridiculously good mood, because when he opened the door, he'd drew Merlin in and kissed him good morning, that left him rather dazed, again. It took him two tries before he could say anything coherent and Arthur just smirked at him.

“Good morning to you too, Merlin.”

And Merlin had to blink stupidly at him, “...I thought that you might have changed your mind.”

“I didn't.”

Merlin would have proceeded to attempt to squeeze Arthur to death had Alex not chosen that opportune moment to tumble down the stairs in a flurry of cotton pajamas.

“Merlin!”

Merlin was all too happy for an excuse to looked away from Arthur (since he was pretty sure his expression was probably freaking out his boss) and let Alex jump on him, “Hey there. Why are you up so early?”

“Because today I technically don't have school!” Alex said, “All I have to do is go and help Miss Collins decorate for the Spring Open House, Me and Miles and Veronica signed up for poster design. You're coming, right Merlin? It starts right after school at two.”

“I, er.”

“I'm leaving work early.” Arthur said, “I'll come back and pick you up.”

“Oh, okay then.”

Arthur smiled, “Good.” He turned to slip on his shoes, “I'm off then, supposedly Margaret's found me a new secretary. I'm hoping she'll be apt...if not I get to fire her early.”

“If you keep firing your secretaries like that, you won't have any left.” Merlin commented blandly, as he tried not to grin too widely.

“That's why you're here. Could you clean out my room today?”

The last time Arthur had asked him that, his room had been spotless. Merlin just shrugged, “Alright.”

–

Arthur's room was not spotless this time around, but it wasn't like a tornado made its way through. Merlin smoothed the covers and vacuumed, before he made his way over to Arthur's desk. Merlin had learned from previous experiences that messing with Arthur Pendragon's paperwork was not a good thing. So he didn't. He put the coding papers into a manila folder labeled 'KS updates'

He collected wayward pens and put them in Arthur's pen case. The picture of Guinevere smiled down at him.

After putting the file to one side, Merlin noted another pile of papers, he thought they were company paperwork too, of some type at first, but then he realized that they looked rather creased, and were written on stationary. The stationary had daisies.

The first one read:

24 September, 1999

Dear Arthur:

Given your penchant for computers, I guess emailing you would be more apt, but I keep thinking that it'll get lost considering you get loads of emails a day. Just trying my luck the old-fashioned way. My plane was an hour late in getting into Paris and I guess my French isn't as good as I thought it would be. I miss English already.

My apartment mate's a lifesaver though, her name is Annmarie and she took me out to dinner. Good food is practically all I need to cheer up, it's really onesided, if you ask me (it's all your fault). I'll probably be writing you ten letters tonight because jet lag's going to be keeping me up.

I almost miss you. So, happy reading :)

Love, Gwen

P.S. Don't forget to feed Bitsy.

Merlin flipped through the stack, the next six letters were all dated 24 September, 1999. He read about Gwen's apartment, how it really wasn't as grand as Arthur's, but her room was homey. She'd brought pictures of him, so that she wouldn't miss him too much. She reminded him to eat (Hot dogs every day will eventually kill you.)

And she missed him. She wrote that about thirty times, but Merlin thought she was wonderfully subtle about it and wondered if Arthur missed all her clues. Or maybe he had sharper eyes because he was in love.

26 December, 2002

Dear Arthur:

Tonight has got to be the one of the best nights of my life, although probably I will never send this letter to you because you'll know that I knew about the engagement ring ahead of time. You really shouldn't leave it lying around, It's a beautiful ring though, and I hope you'll never get tired of hearing me tell you that it's the most beautiful ring that I've ever seen, and it was totally worth a week of your time trying to pick it out. I hope you didn't harass the sales clerk guy too much when you bought it.

I'll tell you this one day, but right now, I feel more comfortable just writing it down. You must think I'm like a perfect princess, but I'm not. But I'll try my hardest to love you like one because you're (mostly) like a prince. Hopefully you won't think I'm too silly for thinking something like that. Because I really, really love you, and one day I'll give you this letter.

But I really hope I can change your mind about having a wedding in the summer because I'm pretty sure I'll faint. Too bad wedding gowns aren't really air conditioned...or maybe I can have one custom made like that. And then you can look just as silly by getting an air conditioned tuxedo. I think it will be a very nice touch.

I'll spare you my rants on paper and call you to rant in person. And after I call you, I'm going to call Annmarie and clear the fact that I'm not really suffering from post-Christmas euphoria.

All My Love for Always

The Soon-To-Be Mrs. Arthur Pendragon (...I've always wanted to sign my name like that once.) or, Gwen

The letter had well worn creases. Merlin wondered how many times Arthur had read the letter, and wondered if his employer memorized it. He probably did. He folded up the letters carefully and left them on the desk, under the manila folder. Something was caught in his throat, and Merlin couldn't bring himself to swallow.

–

“Is this some kind of a joke?” Arthur blinked at the young twenty-something guy in a suit and tie that stood before him. He was still technically in a good mood, but anyone with even a day's worth of history working under Arthur Pendragon knew that he was prone to sometimes violent mood swings. The guy had his morning cup of coffee.

“No, sir, it's not.” The guy shook his head. “Or am I fired already?”

Arthur sighed, “Just get me Margaret.”

“Sure thing.”

Margaret peeked in on him a moment later, “I hope you didn't just traumatize your new assistant. Christian Reyner just graduated from University of Chicago.”

“With a degree in fashion design?”

“No, he doubled majored, actually. Computer Engineering and English. He's capable. I didn't want another Sophia fiasco, so I covered all my bases.” Margaret gave him a look, “Chris is perfectly capable. Give him a week, if it doesn't work out, hold me responsible.”

“You make that sound like it's my fault.” Arthur reached for his coffee. “Does he think that he'll get an actual job from me?”

“He likes your company, CamSoft.” Margaret shrugged, “I called several references and they had nothing but good things to say about him. He actually researched CamSoft to death prior to the interview. You should have done the interview yourself. I think you would have been very impressed with him.”

“I would have...except you kind of scared me when you made me interview bimbos for an hour.”

“You dated a bimbo for almost a month.” Margaret turned to go, “I thought you were better than that.”

“Very funny. Fine then, send Mr. Reyner back in.”

The kid looked too young to be called 'Mister', Arthur thought, but looked as if he wouldn't mind aspiring to the title ten years early.

“Yes, sir?”

“First off, my name is Arthur, and if you call me 'sir' one more time, I might have to break your arm, Mr. Reyner.” Arthur told him.

“Then, I'm Chris.” Chris, he was glad to see, wavered just a little.

“Chris.” Arthur handed over a bulky file, “I'm glad we're on the same page.” The paperwork contained codes to a small program that he was working on in his spare time. He'd be mad if the kid screwed it up, but it wouldn't be the end of the world, like it had been with KnightSpeed. “Take this to the lab downstairs and write it into the Castle Statistics program. The disc is inside. I'll expect all of this done by one-thirty.”

Arthur was in a fairly good mood as he drove back home. Granted, he wasn't as euphoric as the morning, but that couldn't be helped. Work didn't exist to put a person in a good mood, in fact, most times it had an opposite effect. It did help though, that Chris Reyner prove to be a complete liability like Sophia Tirmore. The kid had actually gotten the code to work with ten minutes to spare, Arthur guessed he could stand corrected.

As he was about to insert his key into the lock, the door clicked open, revealing Merlin, with a surprisingly somber face.

“Arthur.” He nodded curtly, “I was just leaving.”

“Leaving?” Arthur blinked, as Merlin stepped past him. “Merlin, Wait...I thought you were coming to Alex's Open House with me. Did something happen?”

Merlin paused, halfway down the walkway. “Arthur. Arthur, don't make me do this. I quit, okay?” He shook his head, and Arthur thought his whole body was shaking. “I can't do this.”

“Merlin...” Arthur stepped away from the door, “What's going on? Tell me. What do you mean you quit?”

“I'm just quitting. I quit as Alex's au pair. I quit working for you.” Merlin was walking again, quickly, away from Arthur. “Tell Alex I'm sorry, and I'm going home.”

Numb, Arthur watched him disappear around the corner.

Lacrimosa: A Prelude (1/1)

raspberry_pop — Sat, 13 Jun 2009 08:15:59 GMT

Title: Lacrimosa: A Prelude
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Pairing: Arthur/Morgana
Genres: Drama/General-ish
Rating: PG
Words: 1684
Progress: 1/1 Complete
Summary: Morgana has nightmares, Arthur offers small comforts.
Notes: Actually written for merlin_rarepair 's challenge -- first kiss. I'll x-post it over there as soon as I figure out how to tag correctly (I'm a little bit of a tagging fail, actually >.>) This pairing really intrigues me, and the idea's been floating around in my head for a while so...I might expand it if further inspiration hits. Have a nice read.

--

Arthur was six when his father finally allowed him to climb the long, winding steps up the eastern guard tower, to watch one of the executions that he'd only been told about. He climbed the steps clutching his mother's hand. Even though he was still a boy, his father thought it was never too early to see him as a future king. His mother, more often than not of fragile health, was still beautiful with a white face and disagreed with his father.

She held his hand so tightly between her own that Arthur thought his bones were going to break. The tower rendered an excellent view of the public square down below. There was a crowd gathered there, and a horrible cry rose up among his people as an old man chained at his ankles and his hands was led by two guards up to the crude platform.

"He's a boy." His mother said, voice not quite steady. "Don't make him look. Let him be a boy."

The old man was bloody, his clothes were soaked through with blood. The platform creaked under his weight--which seemed to be nothing at all. One of the guards slipped a sack cloth over his head. Arthur, at seven, knew both the merits of a solemn face, and the merits of staying silent. His mother's knuckles were white.

His father's voice was hard, "He must know. Kings must know cruelty to show mercy to his people."

The words slipped too easily from Arthur's mouth, "Are you cruel, then, Father?"

"I'm only cruel to those who have sold their souls, Arthur." His father sounded very old. "They're warlocks. They dabble in wicked ways. They don't deserve mercy."

The axe fell. Arthur felt his stomach twist painfully, as if someone had punched him, and he hid his face in his mother's skirts.

Two years later, when Arthur was eight, Queen Igraine, his mother, passed quietly in her sleep. His last memory of her, was her smile, kissing him good night. Without his mother to keep him a boy, Arthur saw that his father was indeed a very old man. The king seldom slept, and there were whispers around the court that he had gone mad.

Arthur shed private tears for his mother, and kept his grief locked away where his father wouldn't scold him for it.

A week after that, Morgana Le Fay came to Camelot.

Morgana was a whole year and some months younger than Arthur, but he thought she looked very old. Like his mother, she was pale, and her eyes glittered. He was to be kind to her, said his father, as Morgana had no mother, or father. She only had in her possession a small trunk of clothes and a young nursemaid. She stayed in the room right next to his, but she never left her room and Arthur rarely saw her.

Perhaps it was due to Igraine's death that his father felt vulnerable. Later, Arthur found out that Morgana was the only daughter of a Duke and Duchess. The Duke and Duchess had died in a tragic fire, and Morgana had lost everything. Although Arthur's father certainly could not give her everything, he'd die trying.

He now climbed up the eastern tower to watch the executions alone. Once, Morgana had followed him. She also were a sober face as a woman clad in dirty rags begged for mercy.

Arthur said, looking over at her, "Don't look."

She turned to him, "Why?"

Arthur thought of his mother, and the way her thin hands had gripped his own. "You just shouldn't." He said blandly, "It's going to give you nightmares."

Morgana hid her face in Arthur's shoulder when the axe fell.

Arthur's eyes fluttered open when he thought he heard a knock sound on his door. His floor was stone cold to bare feet, and he made short work of making it over to the door, unlatching all three locks. Morgana stood there in a thin soft nightgown that seemed to swallowed her up.

"Morgana. What are you doing here?"

"I've had a nightmare." She said.

A chill ran down Arthur's spine. He didn't know why, perhaps it was the way she looked at him, so lost and forlorn. He opened the door wider, "It's late now, you can tell me about the nightmare in the morning."

She hesitated.

"I have a big bed, Morgana." Arthur climbed back into the bed and welcomed the warmth that his blankets provided, for it was a warm night. He patted the pillow beside him. "Come on, hurry up or else you will catch cold and my father will find some way to blame me for it."

After a moment, Morgana climbed in, and turned her face away from him. "I dreamed about you." Her voice was barely a whisper. "You're going to be killed one day."

Somehow, it didn't feel as ominous, "Morgana, don't be ridiculous. We all die. Go to sleep."

She did not speak again.

The next night, Morgana came to his room again. This time, she did not say what she had dreamed about. She just curled up on Arthur's bed and went to sleep, snuggled under the blankets. On the other hand, Arthur lay awoke for a long time, simply listening to her breathe. He reached out to touch her pillow, only to realize that it was wet.

So Arthur held her. She was cold, even with the blankets. When she woke up the next morning, Morgana just sat up and got out of bed. Arthur watched her while just lying there. She gave him a faint smile. "Thank you." She said, very primly, like a proper lady, and let herself out of his room.

Arthur decided that Morgana was still rathe rude, and more than a bit strange.

Arthur was twelve and Morgana was eleven. Things had changed, she no longer came to him at night. They'd both grown up a little to realize that their sharing a single bed most nights warranted to suspicion from most of the chambermaids and other servants. In fact, Morgana hardly spoke to Arthur at all. She spent a lot of time brooding by herself in the gardens, where Arthur had heard that she was assisting the gardener in planting wildflowers.

"They're called 'Morning Glories', young sire." The gardener, toothless had grinned at him, "Rather fitting for a little lady."

Struck by a gentlemanly nerve, Arthur picked some, and ordered a passing chambermaid to put fresh flowers in Lady Morgana's room.

She came to him when dusk fell, wearing a lovely crimson colored dress that made her look very pale. "I saw the flowers."

"You planted them, I think you should enjoy them." He shrugged. "It was nothing."

She stood next to him, close enough so that their shoulders touched. "I keep having a nightmare." She said softly, "It's the same nightmare. Over and over again. It won't go away."

"You're eleven. That's too old to have nightmares." Arthur said.

"I know. You don't need to tell me." She almost snapped at him, "But oh, Arthur, it was a terrible dream."

"What was it about?"

"Camelot. The wells dried up. There was sand...there was no water. People were starving, and they died." Her voice trembled, just a little. She pressed her face into Arthur's back and they stood still for a long time.

She was thirteen, him fourteen.

One of his father's favorite knights went on a hunting trip deep into the forest. They'd slain a unicorn, and removed its horn, because it was good magic. The king had thrown a feastfor the party and the feasting went on deep into the night. The whole castle reeked of wine.

Arthur retired to his chambers early, feigning a headache. Morgana entered the room not long after and climbed into his bed. He reached out a hand and stroke her hair, but she was already asleep.

There was no water in Camelot. The wells filled instead with sand, and yet nothing had changed. Arthur still climbed to the eastern tower, but more often he had Morgana on his arm. The executions continued, ruthless and unending. Morgana still wouldn't look. Although she had to hide her face in Arthur's chest now, because he was getting taller.

"I dreamed about me." She said.

Arthur knew. He knew with so much certainty that it hurt.

The castle no longer reeked of wine, but she came to him anyway. The castle now reeked of death, because the storage rooms were almost empty. Some part of Arthur was relieved, perhaps he would never have to be king. Perhaps his father would drive his kingdom to ruins before him.

Morgana's arms were curled around his neck, and when his lips found hers, it was entirely by accident. But she let him keep his mouth there for a few seconds before turning her face away.

"I'll be a good king." He said, "If there's a kingdon left for me to rule."

Morgana said, "There will be."

He wanted to ask her so badly if she dreamed of herself being a proud, regal queen, his queen. But didn't. Arthur didn't want to hear an answer they both already knew. He probably nearly suffocated Morgana in his arms that night, while she stayed still and slept.

A Fortunate Fall (10/18)

raspberry_pop — Sat, 13 Jun 2009 06:53:46 GMT

banner made by toodelicious Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 6040
Progress: 10/18
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: Wow...100 comments on 9/18 @_@, I'm really scared now. >.> but THANKS and HUGS to all <333

1/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/871.html#cutid1
2/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/1393.html
3/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/1632.html#cutid1
4/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/2056.html
5/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/2638.html#cutid1
6:18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/3158.html
7/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/3410.html#cutid1
8/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/3649.html
9/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/3904.html

--

Merlin was not expecting Arthur to adjust well to this new step in their relationship at all. And admittedly, Arthur did not. In fact, after that night, where Arthur had kissed him for a full half second, Arthur hadn't kissed him again. That was fine, he supposed, Merlin understood Arthur and his hesitation when it came to kissing another guy. He kept reminding himself to tread carefully. He would not force Arthur to do anything he was not ready for. He would wait.

It seemed that very little had changed. It was three days later, and Arthur was rather brash again. Perhaps he was so ashamed of his own vulnerability that he didn't mention it again. Something tight and unrelenting clenched at Merlin's heart...because he didn't know what Arthur was trying to prove. That he wasn't weak. That he was much too proud and strong to admit to needing another person for his existence. He threw himself into his work (mumbling something about a deadline again for a new software) and he never got home earlier than ten. (He almost wondered how Gwen got along with such an workaholic husband.)

Merlin was pretty sure he'd never pitied Arthur Pendragon for trying so hard to fall, but now, seeing Arthur sink onto the couch, white-faced and sallow, he realized it was hard. He loathed to pour Arthur liquor, but he had a feeling that his employer needed it, especially today. And besides, Merlin was here to keep an eye on him so it wasn't anything was going to happen.

"Arthur."

"Alex's in bed?" Arthur looked at him.

"...Yeah. Has been since nine-thirty. He's asleep." Merlin assured him. "I checked on him just now." He set the glass down, "You look like you need this."

Arthur stared blearily at the glass before picking it up, "..Do you trust me with it?"

"What kind of question is that?" Merlin sank down next to him on the couch, "It's not like you're driving me home." Actually, Arthur hadn't driven him home since the day they'd kissed. Not that Merlin minded...Arthur needed his space. "And it's not like you'll do anything too crazy like jump out a window while I'm here."

"You're staying then?"

"Just until you actually get to bed." Merlin shrugged.

"Merlin Emrys, you're worse than my mother." Arthur gave him a baleful look. "I can take care of myself perfectly fine, and you're not allowed to lecture me about having a breakdown again."

"Your mother probably doesn't serve you liquor." Merlin pointed out.

Arthur made a little noise in his throat. "True. I didn't mean that."

Merlin's ears warmed, and he dared to let a hand drop on Arthur's shoulder. As expected, Arthur flinched, but didn't tell him to move or anything. "Besides." Merlin mustered a faint smile, "I only have time for so many children, Mordred and Matthew keep me plenty busy, now that Will's moving in with Stephanie. That reminds me, I need next Wednesday off to help him move, may I?"

"Most likely yes, but you shouldn't tell me this after you've poured me a drink." Arthur said, "Remind me Monday so I can make some calls."

"Okay." After thinking about it a little, Merlin was not going to question Arthur's good judgment. They sat there in companionable silence, and Merlin wondered. He wondered about Gwen. If she'd ever poured her husband liquor after a long day from work, and then he wondered if it was a mistake. If Arthur Pendragon was a mistake like all the others.

"Did you...ever have boyfriends? Before you liked me?"

Merlin was resting his head at a very strange angle on a nearby cushion. It would have been much more comfortable, for his head to be resting on Arthur's shoulder, but Merlin really didn't want to try his luck. Yes, Arthur had kissed him; yes, Arthur was sitting close to him now. But if Merlin had learned anything from his life, it was that good things never lasted. And then he wondered if Arthur had learned the same.

"Yeah. I did."

"Tell me about them." Arthur said. "How many?"

Merlin found his head on Arthur's shoulder. "...Two." Isaac Ringer did not count. He felt obligated to add, "The cushion was comfortable."

"Yeah, but the crick in your neck tomorrow won't be." Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Are you complaining?"

"No." Merlin shook his head, though he tried to move as little as possible. "It's just..."

"Your boyfriends, Merlin." Arthur reminded him, "If I wasn't fine with it, I wouldn't have. I thought you knew me better."

Merlin thought of Sophia. Honestly, he didn't know Arthur at all. "My first boyfriend refused to come out of the closet." He shook his head, "Looking back on it, it was stupid to begin with. He was very religious, wanted to be a pastor. He was very sweet...but we couldn't have." it felt odd talking about this, Merlin never talked about stuff like this...but perhaps that was what Arthur wanted. He wanted Merlin weak and vulnerable, uncertain. "We still talk sometimes. Sometimes, Sean tries to save my soul."

Arthur said nothing. It took Merlin another moment to realize that Arthur's arm had curled around him. He supposed that was an indication to keep talking, so he did. "...My second boyfriend I met in my senior year in high school. Langston was class Valedictorian. I really liked him." Because Langston was a balance, he had fun, and he studied, and most of all, he had a car that he and Merlin made out in all the time. "...He left me."

"For a woman?" Arthur asked.

Merlin looked up at him, his lips were temptingly close to Arthur's jaw, but he resisted the urge. "I've never been left for a woman." Although Arthur might change that. Merlin found that quite hilarious, actually, he laughed. "...He left me for Duke. The school. He had a full ride there."

There was more silence. When Merlin looked at Arthur again, his employer's eyes were heavily lidded, on the verge of sleep.

"Arthur?"

"I'm awake." Arthur said, opening one eye.

"Were you even listening to me?" Merlin asked.

"I was." Arthur shifted slightly. "Doesn't it bother you at all?"

"Does what bother me?" If it was just a general question, then, sure, a lot of things about Arthur bugged the hell out of Merlin. But now he was warm, and couldn't think of a single reason why Arthur would asked the question.

"Gwen."

Merlin was still for a long time. Arthur was still very much Gwen's, that much he knew. She lived in Arthur's wedding ring, in a polished frame on Arthur's desk. In his secrets. It was a world that never did belong to Merlin at all. But Arthur was also his...he was the one with Arthur now, petting him when he was tired from work. This part of Arthur did not belong to Gwen. Merlin's mouth was suddenly dry.

"Why're you asking me something like that?"

"Because you need to know what you're getting into. With me." Arthur told him, sounding surprisingly clear headed and looking incredibly solemn.

"I bet you never gave Sophia this pep-talk."

"It would have gone over her head, anyway." Arthur shrugged. "I would have been wasting my breath." He took a deep breath and tilted his head, "...You're different."

"That's your answer, then." Merlin forced himself to smile. it probably looked pained, but that was why the living room was dark. "She's very much who you are. She's Alex's mother. She's your wife and you loved her. I can't compete with that, and I won't." Merlin's mouth almost stumbled around such noble words. "Whenever you feel like up to telling me. I'm not going to make you tell me." And damn. His eyes were welling up again. Maybe twenty-something boys did go through their menstrual cycles every so often.

"...Are you sure you don't want me to drive you home? I'm not that drunk." Thank you, in Arthur-speak. Merlin was getting to be very good at translating.

"Are you sure you can make it up the stairs by yourself?" He returned mildly.

"Merlin--"

Before Arthur could finish, Merlin mustered his courage and put his lips to Arthur's jaw...kept it there for three seconds. Pulled back. Arthur just blinked blearily at him.

"Good night." Merlin said, "I"ll see you tomorrow."

"...What the hell is this?"

It was getting to be midnight, and all Merlin wanted to do was go to bed. Apparently, his house mates had other plans. Matthew held up a sloshing beer can. "We're having a party!" He announced, after taking a sloppy gulp, "It's the long overdue, 'Holy Fuck, Merlin's Finally Going to Marry Arthur' party...so I guess it's like your wedding shower."

"First of all, I don't have to be the girl in the relationship and that's now how this works." If this was Matthew and Mordred's idea of a bad joke, he was quite sure he'd end up killing both of them. And he even spotted a stack of suspicious looking DVDs lying around. Porn, probably. "Second, Arthur and I are not getting married. Third. If you say another word regarding Arthur, I'm going to hit you, and it's going to hurt."

He went to his room, and threw himself on the bed.

Matthew belched loudly (Merlin could hear him from the kitchen) and said something like, "...Way to ruin the mood!"

To which Merlin yelled back, "Shut the fuck up!" But the smile refused to leave his face, even as he slept.

Arthur Pendragon, for the thirty and some months he'd been alive, had never thought about being sexually involved--even remotely romantically involved about another person of the same gender. He guessed it was because of the way he grew up. Such travesty wouldn't have ever been allowed under his father's roof. Arthur discovered early on that he had a way with girls, that a charismatic grin and a kiss on the cheek got him everywhere.

But Merlin.

Arthur's mind drew an immediate blank. Merlin Emrys was unlike any person he'd ever met. Even if Merlin didn't realize it, Arthur thought his au pair had the patience of a thousand saints. That had been the first time they'd touched in three days, and probably Merlin, with two boyfriends behind him, expected more.

Sophia never pressed him about Gwen. Possibly because she had other things to care about, like clothes, and how exactly to ensnare Arthur into having sex with her. Whereas Merlin never pressed him about any of that; not because he didn't want to know, but because he didn't want Arthur to be roped into anything he didn't feel comfortable with.

And honestly, Arthur didn't know how he felt about that. It was like all that he was, rested on the palm of Merlin's hand, and yet still; Merlin was willing to wait for him. Merlin accepted Arthur's feelings for Gwen, and allowed Arthur to be his own self. He didn't ask for anything but that.

Gwen too, hadn't expected anything less or more of Arthur, other than just Arthur. They saw his vulnerabilities, and didn't question them.

"Arthur." A hand rapped impatiently on his door, "Mr. Pendragon."

Arthur snapped to, "Yes?"

Margaret stood there, looking less than amused, "Sophia's on line one, she says you're not answering your cell and supposedly she's dying from the flu. After you're done with that, you need to be over at the downstairs conference room. 21st Century Tech is here to interview you in...approximately twenty minutes. So please, a little more attentiveness would be very appreciated on all counts. You haven't been yourself lately."

Arthur groaned, "How come no one tells me these things?" Of course he hadn't been himself lately, he didn't even know what he was at this point.

"Because you have Sophia Tirmore as your secretary." Margaret clicked her tongue disapprovingly, "You look like you're in need of freshening up, give me a ring when you're done talking to her, and I'll send people up."

"...What people?"

"People that will do your makeup so you don't look absolutely hideous on the magazine cover."

"They're putting me on the cover?"

Margaret was gone. Arthur chewed his bottom lip raw and then reached for the phone. He pressed line one. "...Sophia?"

"Arthur." There was heavy sniffling on the other end, "I'm sick."

"...I can see that." Arthur said.

"I'm not coming to work today." She said, "...Would you please come by and see me later, please?"

Arthur suddenly despised her. "No."

"What?"

"I have work to do." Arthur said, "And it's nothing personal, Sophia, but I'd rather you not come to work anymore." Before she had a chance to say anything, he hung up. Then Arthur stood up, and stuck his head out of his office; Margaret was there sorting out paperwork on her desk. "Margaret."

She looked at him.

"When you have the time, clean out Sophia's desk. Bag everything, and bring it to my office, but take your time, I'm not in any hurry." He said, "I want the publicist to know I'm in the new market for a new personal secretary. Perhaps a more responsible one this time."

Margaret gave him a long stare, and then nodded, "Let me make some calls, and I'll get started."

It had been a long time since Arthur sat through an interview. In fact, he rather hated them, and watching the small crew fritter around in his crowded conference room. He could have sworn he heard one of the cameramen complain about the lack of size, but Arthur really didn't inspire to much. The person that ended up interviewing him was a nice elderly man named Richard.

Richard didn't seem to understand any of the computer jargon that Arthur threw his way, but he supposed many people didn't. They discussed investors, and KnightSpeed, his new database software, which "Yes, I plan to present it at the Iconia Convention next month. So I don't want to give too much away."

"I see, I see." Richard rubbed the tip of his nose. "You never give too much away, do you, Mr. Pendragon? For all we know, you could easily be the next Bill Gates in business software...and your father--"

"My father and I are estranged." Arthur said stiffly, cutting him off. "Off the record, of course."

"Of course." Richard nodded quickly. "Well, then, can we go on the record again and talk about your son, Alex? Is he aspiring to be a computer whiz like his father?"

"Alexander is five. Six soon." Arthur shrugged, "I sincerely hope not. This is a very competitive field." He stood abruptly and held out his hand, "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I have appointments to meet with clients for lunch. If you'll excuse me."

"Of course, of course. We'll give you a call when the issue is published and make sure you get complementary copies."

"Shouldn't you be at work?" Morgana quirked her eyebrows at him.

"It's lunch break."

"Shouldn't you be with your little girlfriend then?"

"Morgana..."

Something in Arthur's voice must have tipped her off, because Morgana opened her door wider, "...I haven't eaten." She said quietly, "Might as well join me."

Arthur really didn't like his sister--that much. But he knew that Morgana was always open to him, had he ever thought to ask. He followed her into the kitchen, and watched her rummage through her fridge. "If you don't feel like up to cooking, I'll go grab something at the deli."

"Just because Merlin does all your cooking now doesn't mean I can't cook." Morgana shot back deftly as she straightened with a small container, "...Would you mind hot dogs?"

Arthur shrugged.

Morgana took that a yes. She took a seat across from her brother and peered at him. "I know, you know."

"Course you do." Arthur looked at her, somewhat exasperated, "...I suppose you're going lecture me about it, then?"

"No. I doubt you'd come over here if you thought I was." Morgana shook her head mildly. "Just..." She looked down. "He would. Merlin will love you for being Arthur if you'd let him."

"Will he love me more than I love Guinevere?" Arthur bit out the question.

Morgana looked at him, eyes pained. His sister usually had answers for everything; answers that Arthur never did like much, but now she just shook her head again. "Arthur, I hate it when you do that to me. Don't ask me questions I don't have answers for."

Arthur just stared down at the table. "Morgana...I fired Sophia."

She went out of her way to go around to table and settle a hand on top of his head. It was a gesture that would have normally annoyed him to death and she hadn't done it in years. But now, it proved to be oddly comforting.

She said, "Good for you." And managed not to sound sarcastic at all.

He let out a long sigh, "...Can I have some coffee?"

"Merlin."

They were in Alex's room, with the boy sprawled out on his bed and Merlin similarly sprawled out on the carpet. "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

Merlin raised himself up on one elbow, "I feel fine." He said, "Why?"

The boy's face scrunched up, "...Is Dad okay, then?"

Alexander Pendragon had been thoroughly spoiled by his parents' gene pool. Sometimes, Merlin wished he weren't quite so intuitive. Rubbing his temples, he sat up. Arthur was due back from work any minute, and Merlin guessed it was good as any favor if he set Alex straight. Although he wondered vaguely, how he was supposed to do that, when he was no less confused. "...Alex. Arthur and I, we're still trying to figure things out, okay?" He reached out a hand and smoothed tangled curls away from Alex's forehead. The boy looked like he was in need of a haircut, and Merlin reminded himself to bring that up with Arthur later.

Alex just blinked at him, "Is it working?"

Merlin shrugged.

"You don't know?" Alex crawled over to the edge of the bed, and peered up at him again, "How do you not know? That doesn't make any sense?"

It didn't. Merlin was perfectly inclined to agree. He just shrugged again. "Alex, adults don't make sense most times. You'll get it when you get older."

"If grownups don't make sense, why do I want to grow up?"

Merlin opened his mouth, and then closed it again. How was he supposed to answer a question like that? "Alex." He tried a different tactic. "You're too smart for me. Maybe you're already grownup?"

"Do you think I'm already grown up?" Alex looked almost offended.

"Maybe." Merlin scooped him up, "I hear Arthur downstairs, come on."

Arthur was slipping off his shoes when he heard steps. He looked up, and saw Merlin and Alex, with Alex's head nestled in the crook of Merlin's neck. "Is he sleeping?"

"I think he's just tired." Merlin smiled faintly, "Alex. Say something."

"Hi, Dad...I'm tired."

Arthur watched as Merlin patted his son some more. "I bet he's been on your nerves all day." He commented, just to see if that would get a reaction.

It did. Alex snapped his head up, "What's that supposed to mean?" He pouted.

Merlin quickly consoled him, "Arthur's kidding." and let him down. Alex crossed his arms, He barely came up to Arthur's waist and still tried to look imposing.

"Are you really?"

Arthur settled a hand on Alex's head, "Yes, really."

Merlin said, "I think he needs a haircut."

At this, Arthur looked down at Alex again, "...Yeah, I don't remember the last time I took him."

"You didn't. Aunt Morgana did." Alex reminded him loudly.

Arthur picked him up. Alex smelled like the school playground. "Would you mind taking him tomorrow? I'll get you the address."

Merlin smiled, "Not at all."

The smile made Arthur's chest feel warm. "Stay for dinner?"

"Do you mean cook dinner?" Merlin translated for him. "Sure, I don't see why not."

Merlin ended up making pizza again, and while it baked in the oven, all three of them went to the living room to play cards. There had been a small debate whether or not it was healthy to teach Alex water poker at such an early age (Arthur thought it'd teach his son not to gamble, while Merlin thought exactly the opposite) and in the end, they settled on 'Old Maid' instead.

"I fired Sophia." Arthur remarked idly as he plucked a card from Alex's hand, "Margaret's supposed to be looking for another secretary for me starting tomorrow, hopefully, I'll have someone new by the end of the week."

Merlin paused. He was acutely aware of how Arthur's ankle was knocking against his. "Oh." He laid out a pair of sixes. "...You'll be conducting interviews, then?"

"I"ll be busy, Margaret will be taking care of most of that." Arthur told him.

"So does that mean Sophia's not your girlfriend anymore?" Alex asked, he sounded so hopeful.

Merlin thought Arthur winced. "Not yet."

"Why not?" Alex's face scrunched up.

"Because we haven't talked about that yet." Arthur sighed, rubbing his temples with his other hand, "The stuff from her desk is still in my car, and I'll tell her when I go to drop it off." He looked to Merlin, "All right?"

Arthur was promising him something, but what Merlin couldn't tell. A chance? "So you sent her home?"

"She came down with the flu. Apparently."

"...Apparently?" Merlin looked to him.

"College girls ditch a lot of school, don't they?" Arthur said humorlessly, "I hear the timer going off."

Arthur never cared much for pizza, but he had to give Merlin credit for his pizza, it was delicious. But he didn't say so until Alex was tucked into bed and he'd beckoned to Merlin to join him out on his balcony. He didn't ask for permission to light a cigarette, but Arthur thought the permission was just as valid when Merlin didn't ask him to put it out.

It was a clear warm night. Almost perfect. Merlin leaned on the balcony railing with his elbows. Neither of them spoke for several minutes after that.

"Hey, Arthur."

"What?"

"Why did you...start smoking?"

"A lot of reasons." Arthur answered after a belated beat, "Work was stressful." Yes, that was just one reason, but-- "I fought with my father a lot."

"I see." Merlin stepped over to him, "Is it better now?"

"I guess." Arthur shrugged, "We're estranged." And how stupid that was, to say it for the world to know. "I haven't spoke to him for three years. I've never been inclined to start, either."

Merlin held him loosely, it was warm, and after a moment, Arthur forced himself to relax, although he couldn't quite bring himself to return the favor. "My father left my mom when Mordred was three. I was nine."

Arthur decided he liked the sound of Merlin's voice, the way that it was so close. "Did he? I'm sorry." He said. Arthur had done this only once, but he realized that Merlin was taller than him by enough so if he dropped his head slightly, it'd rest on Merlin's shoulder. "He didn't...do anything?"

"Dad wasn't like that." Merlin shook his head, "From what I remember, he was really kind to us all...he was a dreamer, and I guess his dreams took him somewhere else without us. I don't hate him." One of his hands came up to stroke Arthur's hair, it was soothing after a while.

"How do you do that?"

Merlin pulled back and looked at him, "Do what?" He blinked.

Perhaps Merlin thought nothing of it, but Arthur had to wonder how he bounced back for all of life's disappointments. He just made it look so easy, so simple.

"Be so damn happy all the time."

"It's just my nature, Mom always says I was wired that way." Merlin grinned at him as he stepped back. Arthur had no idea how, but Merlin must have sensed he was getting a little edgy. "Besides, I don't think you'd like me half as much if I was depressed and unhappy. I'm going to go home." He turned towards the door. "It was fun."

Arthur caught his wrist. "Wait."

Merlin stopped. "Yeah?"

"I..." Arthur sucked in a deep breath, "Gwen...studied art in college like my mother. She liked to take photos."

Merlin's eyes were clouded, but his lips still wore a deceptively bright smile, "Bye, Arthur."

"Oi," A hand shook him roughly, "Wake up! Damn it, Merlin."

Merlin groaned and curled himself tighter within the thin blankets, "What the hell, let me sleep..." It was Sunday, he didn't have to work, and Matthew had convinced him to drink, so his head hurt. "What the fuck do you want? You're old enough to make yourself breakfast." He forced his eyes open to stare at Mordred. "It's barely nine."

"Yeah, but Arthur Pendragon's in our living room." Mordred said.

"...What? You're joking." Merlin shot upright, "Arthur?"

"Yep, the one and only." Mordred grinned, "C'mon, hurry up...unless you want to go out in only your boxers for shock value."

Merlin rubbed sleep out of his eyes and blinked. "I'm going to get dressed. Who let Arthur in?"

"Matthew did...but he was sort of on his way to work, he didn't really say anything." Mordred shrugged, "I wouldn't worry about it too much if I were you. Actually, I'm about to leave too."

Merlin reached for a wayward pair of jeans, "And where are you going?" Mordred didn't work on Sundays.

"I promised Celia I'd go over and help her with...stuff."

"...Stuff." Merlin echoed, "What kind of stuff?"

"Just...stuff." Mordred shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, "Her mother's going to be there, you know. So good stuff."

"Right." Merlin sighed. "Call if you need anything." Like condoms, he told himself privately, or directions to the nearest abortion clinic, or the nearest location of a fresh pair of balls, in case Mordred lost them for whatever reason. "And don't stay out too late."

"Yes, ma'am." Mordred saluted him, and then left the room. Merlin was much too tired to reach for the nearest pillow. He was about to curl up on his bed and go back to sleep when he realized that Arthur Pendragon was still very much present in his living room. Grabbing the nearest (semi-clean) t-shirt that he could find, he threw it over his head and went to the living room.

Arthur was not in a suit. He was wearing jeans and a button-down so he looked somewhat casual. He still looked very out of place in Merlin's living room, though. "Morning. Mordred left just now. I was just telling him that he really didn't have to wake you. I would have waited, you know."

"I um. Morning." Merlin returned sheepishly, "...What's this all about?" He took a moment to note that Arthur was alone, without Alex. "Where's Alex?"

"He slept over at a friend's house. Usually I don't let him, but Gary is moving to Paris tomorrow." Arthur gave him a careful once-over, I just thought...that it would be okay for once."

"Alex can take care of himself for one day." Merlin's hand reached out for Arthur, feeling the fingers stiffen, and then against his better judgment, he dropped it. "Right, do you want breakfast? I'll fix something?"

"...I've already eaten. It's already nine."

"Oh." And here, Merlin was forced to acknowledge their differences; for him, it would always be 'just barely nine" and for Arthur, it was "already nine". Gwen probably liked waking up early. Else Arthur Pendragon probably wouldn't stand for it, either. And for some reason, that made Merlin feel decidedly awful. Part of him wanted ask why Arthur was even here.

Arthur's fingers slipped through his, hesitant, "I wouldn't be be averse to brunch though. You look like a stick."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Merlin demanded.

Arthur merely grinned at him, "It means yes, I'd love breakfast."

It took Merlin a couple of minutes to muster a smile back, giving Arthur's hand a squeeze. Arthur's grin was positively blinding when he put his mind to it. "Okay, I'll go find my shoes."

Arthur chose a small diner in the downtown district, and it was almost empty. The girl that owned it was one of Gwen's best friends, Rosanne. She'd loved Gwen too, almost as much as he had. But she didn't mention any of that when she grabbed menus and showed them to a table. She only asked him if work was going well, and if he wanted what he usually ordered. Arthur said yes to both of those questions and Rosanne smiled at him.

Merlin looked at him, eyes still blinking sleepily across the table.

"What time did you get to bed last night?"

Merlin shrugged, "two-ish, maybe three. I'm not sure. Mordred's fault."

"Right."

"It was."

Arthur shrugged. It wasn't like he really cared, Merlin was as much of an adult as he was. Rosanne arrived with the coffee, and she said to Merlin, "Sorry, I left your coffee black because I didn't know how you liked it. I'll go fix it now if you'd like."

"Er, Thanks. I like a little bit of half and half with my coffee. That's all." Merlin said.

Rosanne picked up the cup, "Sure. I'll be right back with it." She glanced between the two of them, "Luck you, you must have caught Arthur on a very good day."

Merlin usually laughed at things like this, Arthur thought, but he remained perfectly sober this time.

"Merlin?"

"I feel really weird." Merlin spoke only after a belated pause, running a hand through his own hair. "I don't know any of those people. Gaspard, that girl, or people you work with. I don't know anything at all. I don't belong here."

Merlin really didn't. Arthur had thought about this before. He'd thought about it so much that his head hurt and he had to go hunt for aspirin. Besides being the wrong gender (which really wasn't that much of an issue in Arthur's head at the given moment) Merlin was also from a different world, he'd grew up on a farm, on his own, while Arthur never really managed to escape, although the bane of his existence currently resided on another continent...he still didn't feel safe.

They probably had very little in common too. But Arthur cleared his throat and took a sip of coffee. "Don't say that."

Merlin laughed, "...Is it just me, or are you being extremely kind this morning? Are you on your Sunday behavior? That's what Mom used to tell me and Mordred, but we weren't very religious to begin with. We only went Christmas and Easter."

"That's usually when I take Alex." Arthur said.

The food came. Arthur thought that Merlin's expression as the platter of butter-laden pancakes and syrup sprinkled waffles was almost comical. He dove into his food with the enthusiasm of a hyena that hadn't eaten for days (although Merlin was probably more elegant.) As long as Arthur fed him, he guessed Merlin belonged.

"God, I eat like a pig." Merlin stared down at the half empty plate a couple minutes later.

"To me, you eat like a normal person." Arthur remarked mildly as he nursed his coffee.

"Shut up." Merlin said.

"I'm serious. I don't think you eat enough."

"Now you sound like my mother." Merlin sounded very miffed as he reached for another waffle.

Merlin felt like a giddy girl--it wasn't a pleasant feelings when he usually settled down to think about it, but now he didn't exactly care. They'd came back home to Merlin's apartment and Arthur hadn't shown any signs of wanting to leave. He supposed that was a good thing. They sat on the couch, the television was on, mostly only for noise.

They'd started out not touching, but somehow, Arthur's head ended up on his lap. Merlin ran his fingers through Arthur's hair. "Hey."

"What?"

"This..." Merlin faltered momentarily, after all, he'd always been told not to get his hopes up too much. "Kind of feels like a date."

"What do you mean, kind of?" Arthur looked up at him.

"I mean...I don't know. It just does, but usually on dates, people kiss and stuff." Merlin had to wonder if he was going a tad far for that one, Arthur hadn't quite made it past flinching from a kiss on the cheek.

"Being subtle is not your strong point, is it, Merlin?" Arthur bit his lip, "It's been a while since I went on a date. But we can try kissing if you want."

"You don't have to sound like such a martyr about it."

Arthur said nothing, but he didn't get up from Merlin's lap either. After a while, he said, "I'm sorry. But I can't...not yet."

"I'll wait."

"For how long?"

"As long as you need." Maybe he'd go crazy just waiting. Patience was not one of Merlin's strong suits either, but when Arthur nuzzled the nape of his neck and whispered something that sounded like 'thank you' (but he couldn't exactly be sure, with Arthur, he could never be a hundred percent sure about any of those things.) Merlin almost thought that he could wait forever.

A Fortunate Fall (9/18)

raspberry_pop — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 07:36:54 GMT

banner made by toodelicious Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 5644
Progress: 9/18
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.

1/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/871.html#cutid1
2/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/1393.html
3/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/1632.html#cutid1
4/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/2056.html
5/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/2638.html#cutid1
6:18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/3158.html
7/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/3410.html#cutid1
8/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/3649.html

"So. I guess I'll have to take back what I said about you being a prude." Mordred walked in with a some sort of hot drink and sat on Arthur's guest bed. "Did you seriously get him off in the ten minutes I was gone? I'm proud of you."

Merlin, groggy from the fever and sleep, burrowed deeper into the sheets and groaned. "Go away."

"Oh, I will, after you drink this. I found it in Arthur's cabinet...you probably bought it for him, huh?" Mordred thrust the cup unceremoniously at him. Merlin recognized the smell, it was the lemon ginger tea that his mother had always made for him when he was ill. Now that Merlin really thought about it, why was it in Arthur's cabinet? Unless he had bought it without knowing...as if it was natural.

He took the mug, "...I don't remember if I bought it for him."

"Sure you didn't, you liar."

The tea was hot and his tongue felt numb. "...Arthur went to work?"

"Well, yeah. Were you expecting him to go somewhere else?"

Merlin shook his head, "No. God, I...why'd I do it?"

"Do what?" Mordred sighed, "...You know, you were sick and all that this morning, delirious. Whatever you did wasn't your fault. So you wrecked him, so what? It's not like--"

"Mordred. Fuck." The obscenity left his lips somewhat strangled. "You don't get it--and I didn't wreck Arthur." Merlin rubbed at his temple, balancing the cup precariously on his lap. "He's going to fire me."

"You've at least said that about fifty times and he hasn't yet." Mordred looked over at him, "And then the next thing you're going to say is that this--"

"Is different." Merlin finished dully, "It is."

"He already knows you like guys, and he didn't fire you for that." Mordred pointed out, "Give Arthur some credit. Maybe he does like you."

"Arthur can't like me." Merlin mumbled against the rim of the cup, "That's not how this works. Yes, Arthur knows, but I'm sure he sure as hell didn't expect me to just...kiss him like that."

Mordred made a sound that seemed like a cross between a resigned sigh and a disbelieving snort. "Sometimes, I have a hard time believing that we're related, Merlin. Do you not want Arthur to like you? For all I know, you're lovesick."

Merlin said nothing. At last, he laughed, but it was dry humorless laugh. "Maybe I got the short end of the stick. You get all the girls, and I get the rest of the guys left over." At the moment, it certainly seemed true. Merlin's past flings were a sorry bunch: Isaac Ringer--who just wanted someone to experiment with, decided he didn't like the results that the experiments yielded, and then left; Merlin didn't like him much anyway. Sean Craig...who just sort of happened, but then vehemently refused to come out of the closet. And then Langston Troy, who decided that he wanted to pursue a genuine future instead of just fucking around with Merlin.

And now...Arthur Pendragon, an emotional train wreck. Who was almost untouchable.

"Ngh." Merlin sank back down on the pillows, "Can you please just go away now? I don't want to talk."

His phone chirped cheerily at him. Merlin fished it out, winced at the number and tossed it to Mordred. "You get it, it's Arthur."

"O..kay then." Mordred flipped the phone open, "Hey, Arthur, it's Mordred." A beat, "...Merlin's resting. I think he's getting better, should I wake him?" Mordred walked carefully measured steps to the doorway and back again, "So...I don't have to? Yeah, okay. Take Alex to get some ice cream. I'll be sure to tell him, and okay. Bye."

The phone landed with a dull thump on the mattress.

"What'd he say?"

"Your boyfriend said he'd be picking up his son from school early, and there's no need for you to move a muscle. He says that you're not allowed in the kitchen, and that I should fix you a sandwich for lunch."

"Arthur is not my boyfriend." Merlin felt the urge to clarify. "Did he actually say all that?"

"I paraphrased, but yes, pretty much." Mordred shrugged, "So as the power that be commands, I shall go make you a sandwich. Turkey, lettuce, no mayo?"

Merlin threw a wayward pillow towards the general direction of Mordred's head. His aim was off by a few inches.

"Mr. Pendragon." The receptionist at Gedref Academy was a neat brunette with a businesslike voice. Arthur supposed that a high class institution like this, she was almost required to know every parent's name. But he was also positive that being one of the wealthiest donors of the school even before Alex entered the first grade had something to do with that too, "How may I help you?"

"I'm here to pick up my son. He has an appointment."

It was barely twelve, but Arthur was suddenly malfunctioning at the office. Perhaps it was what Merlin put him through this morning, but he'd given up on coding after his set of equations had come out faulty. He kept thinking that someone was going to comment on his unkempt appearance (he had changed his tie, but hadn't the time to put on a new shirt, so he had to compromise for that mistake by keeping his suit jacket on all day.

He'd sent Sophia downstairs to sort out a useless pile of paperwork, but that didn't help things. Arthur was still twitchy, and his lip still stung, even though he had tried his best to hide the bruise that Merlin had left there.

After he'd given up on coding, Arthur had called for a cup of coffee, which some assistant brought to him. Arthur did not care for idle chatter with a guy that might as well be a kid who didn't know shit about what he was trying to say.

It occured to him that he needed a drink. But for some reason, he ended up here, in Gedref Academy instead. What Alex was going to do for his nerves though, he hadn't the slightest idea.

"I'll bring Alex right away." She said, "Please, have a seat, make yourself comfortable."

"...Dad." After a moment, Alex appeared in khakis and a gray t-shirt, "What are you doing here?"

"You have an appointment, and we have to leave right now or else we'll be late for it." Arthur got quickly to his feet and scribbled Alex's name on the sign out sheet. "Come on?"

"I have an appointment?"

Arthur gave his son a long look, "Yes, you do. I just forgot to tell you. We'll go get ice cream afterwords."

"Dad, you lied." Alex looked at him accusingly for a moment. "I don't have an appointment. I'm not sick you know. You only go to the doctor when you're sick. I'm not sick." The boy folded his arms, "What'd you do?"

"What do you mean what did I do?" Arthur looked at him through the rearview mirror.

"You look like you came from Aunt Morgana's house."

"...Alexander." Arthur rubbed his temples, "I was not at Morgana's house." And the fact that his son thought he was, was altogether bothersome. But he didn't have a good answer; this was one of the times where he sorely wished that he had agreed with Guinivere and raised him like a regular five-year-old and not like...this. "I was at work all day."

So perhaps he had no one else but himself to blame.

"But you look like that." Alex insisted.

"That bad?"

"Yup."

Arthur pulled out of the school parking lot and maneuvered the car onto the street. There were not that many cars on the road on a Wednesday afternoon, but he kept well under speed limit. When he had called, Merlin hadn't answer. Mordred had. Arthur was both disappointed and not, because he was pretty sure his tongue wouldn't work correctly if he spoke to Merlin so quickly. The two brothers seemed to have a healthy relationship, although they both kept up with not so healthy vices. But who was Arthur Pendragon to say?

"Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you forgive Dad for lying if he bought you ice cream?"

"It better be good ice cream." Alex told him seriously. "I better get any flavor I want."

It felt so good to sit in an ice cream parlor and watch his kid actually be a kid (kind of). Kaye had recommended Bradley's Ice Cream factory many times, but Arthur had never had the time to go. He sat in a booth now, watching Alex tackle a triple scooped cone--strawberry, mint, and chocolate chip. It seemed for the moment, however, that Alex was losing the battle and some of the ice cream got on his shirt.

Arthur didn't say anything though, he just got up and fetched a plastic bowl which he handed to the boy across the table.

"Make sure you don't drip. You don't want to get the table dirty."

Alex looked at him, he had a mint-colored smear on his cheek.

Arthur couldn't help but laugh. "Is it better than the ice cream that Mordred promised you?"

"Dunno." Alex crunched off a piece of his cone, "This is really good too." and then he paused and looked at Arthur, face searching, "...Did you just pull me out of school so you can buy me ice cream?"

"I, um." Arthur faltered momentarily, actually... "Alex, I lied today and didn't set a good example. But I need you to be honest with me, I have to ask you a very important question."

"Are you in trouble?" Alex went back to his cone.

"No...but. It's really important." Arthur set his hands on the table, "I know you don't really like Sophia."

"I don't like her." Alex nodded quickly in full agreement, "And I can tell you don't like her either."

"How would you know that?"

"Well...you don't smile. And you look like you have a stomachache every time she's around you. Her shoes are loud, and I just don't like her."

Alex took to chasing a glop of strawberry that stole over the edge of his cone, leaving Arthur to decipher all that. She was phony. Young, not suited to him. and it was funny that his son knew that better than he did.

"How about Merlin?" The question slid from his mouth before he could stop it.

"Merlin has Lancelot." was Alex's very candid reply and Arthur's forehead prickled. He still didn't get how his son could talk so openly about these things, and he still needed to talk to Morgana. "Do you want to date him?"

"Hypothetically speaking." Arthur said.

"Hypo what?"

The boy's confusion relieved him to no end. Arthur was happy to rephrase, "...If. It's the same word, except shorter." That proved, if anything, that Morgana hadn't yet tried to force the dictionary down his son's throat like she had attempted to do with Shakespeare.

"Oh, it is?" Alex's face scrunched for a moment, "I wouldn't mind...but you're really mean to Merlin sometimes. If you guys end up dating, will you promise not to be so mean to him? He's really nice."

"...Well." And Arthur couldn't find anything to say after that.

"Did he honestly say you could use his computer?" Mordred peered over his shoulder. "This stuff is so hardcore!"

"...Arthur does work in the industry, you know. Of course he'd have the latest systems and software." Merlin looked back him, "He said I could use it for work. And if you lose me that right, I'll kill you."

"Hey, I only do that kind of stuff on our computer." Mordred proceeded to look most offended.

"Which is probably why our computer is broken and doesn't work every time I try to go on the Internet. Seriously, go to Celia's house if you want to do 'that kind of stuff'."

"I can't have Celia think I'm a pervert." Mordred crossed his arms, "What would her parents think?"

Merlin was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to hit his brother over the head with something really, really hard. Arthur's paperweight looked apt. "Mordred, I don't even want to began pick apart that statement to tell you everything wrong with it. Will you please shut up? I'm trying to work."

Mordred merely tilted his head.

Merlin was about to open his mouth and tell Mordred to go away, when Alex bounded into the study and threw himself towards Merlin with such force that Merlin almost toppled over in Arthur's computer chair. "Alex--"

"Alexander, don't just jump on people like that." Arthur's voice rang out, clear, disapproving. "Give them a warning."

Alex mumbled something intelligible against his neck and Merlin patted his back awkwardly, "It's okay." He trained his eyes fiercely at his lap.

Mordred coughed loudly, "Uh, so...Alex. Come with me to the kitchen, okay?"

Alex looked at him, "Why?"

"Because Merlin needs to have a word with your Dad and I just feel like making you a yoghurt parfait." Mordred beckoned towards the door, "Come on."

Alex looked suspiciously towards his father again, and his grip on Merlin's shoulders tightened. "Are you going to get him in trouble, Dad?"

Somehow, Merlin didn't believe him, when Arthur said, "Of course not. Go with Mordred."

Alex still seemed hesitant. Mordred, ever the ice breaker, ventured cheerily, "How about this? After we make the yoghurt parfait, if Arthur gets Merlin in trouble we can kick his ass--"

"Mordred!" Merlin said sharply.

Mordred blinked, 'What'd I say?"

"Backtrack like, two words."

"Oh--" Mordred shook his head, "I meant, kick his butt. Really, I did!"

Alex turned his gaze on Merlin, solemn, and much too old. "Are you really going to be okay?"

"Yeah..." Merlin made sure he didn't look at Arthur. "I'll be fine. Go."

Arthur had to look twice at the warning look that his son had the nerve to give him as Alex passed by the door. He shut the door of the study, and watched Merlin as he fumbled to get to his feet. Merlin was already babbling, "Um, sorry, I was just trying to finish up some work, there's this paper I have to write for my child development course, and I procrastinated on it and barely started. It's due next Thursday. Sorry about Mordred, he's seventeen--it just slipped. I'll go explain to Alex later if you--"

"Merlin." Arthur said, "Be quiet for a minute." He had to rub his own temples, for they were starting to prickle and he couldn't make heads or tails of Merlin's rushed rants at the moment.

Merlin obeyed, looking very guilty for it.

Since Merlin was already in his computer chair, Arthur made himself comfortable in his other desk chair. He felt surprisingly calm, considering he had no idea what he was about to say. "Merlin. Look at me."

Slowly, Merlin raised his eyes, they looked miserable again and Arthur wanted nothing more than to slap sense into him.

"I'm sorry." Merlin said, "This morning--I had a fever, I had no idea what I was doing."

"But you're all better now?" Arthur asked mildly, "You look well."

"Mordred passed along your royal decree this morning and made me stay in bed." Merlin's lips twitched, "Thanks. I guess that did the trick."

They were silent for a couple more minutes after that. Arthur asked (perhaps stupidly, in hindsight.)

"Why?"

Arthur realized that Merlin was not an exception to having nervous ticks. Growing up the way he did, Arthur supposed it was only natural that he somehow managed to suppress his nervous ticks. Merlin, however, wasn't the same. He kept crossing and uncrossing his legs. "I, um." And Arthur had to wonder how anyone could just bite their lips like that and not get bruises. "I guess I, um."

Merlin took a deep breath, "I don't...know."

Arthur stared at him, "...You don't know." Well. That was anti-climax if he had ever heard one. Arthur was expecting something, anything--perhaps outright denial, and perhaps maybe even a chance to try out kissing Merlin again because he hadn't quite been able to discern whether or not he liked it the first time...but he wasn't exactly averse to trying it again.

He wondered if that was a bad thing.

"Yeah. I don't know." Merlin repeated dumbly.

Arthur opened his mouth, but his cell phone beat him to it. He didn't bother giving Merlin a apologetic look or anything. It was an office call. He cleared his throat, "Pendragon."

"Arthur, this is Margaret."

Funny how it was Kaye's secretary calling him and not Sophia, who usually would jump at any chance to call him. "...Why are you doing Sophia's job?"

There was a not so ladylike snort on the other end, "I'd thought you'd be happy. For the record, she left after you left. I thought you guys communicated about this, but I guess not. You're supposed to be at Hilton Plaza at six today."

"I'm very happy you're doing her job." Arthur assured her, "Remind me to write you a bonus. What am I supposed to be doing at Hilton Plaza at six today?"

"You have to meet with some of your potential investors. Didn't she tell you? Kaye's supposed to meet you there."

Sophia never told him anything nowadays, besides the usual...which really was not helpful. Arthur was stonewalling her attempts at spending the night, but he was not going to think about that right now. "He is?"

"Yes, I'm guessing she didn't tell you." Margaret sighed, "Tell me, were you paying more attention to her womanly endowments than her credentials when you hired her, Arthur?"

Arthur blanched. Margaret was also younger than he was, but not by much. She had a penchant of sounding like a twenty-eight-year-old grandmother, and she kept up a very inconspicuous relationship with a guy who worked in his accounting department; Arthur was just a little bit in love with Margaret for that. "I gave her a job as a favor for a friend. But that's not the point. How long is the dinner?"

"...Shouldn't go over seven-thirty, at the latest. Do you need me to look after Alex? I'll be happy to take him."

"Uh...no." He doubted Alex could survive Margaret for an hour and a half. Arthur glanced over at Merlin, who was calmly examining his nails. "Merlin?"

Merlin snapped up, "Yeah?"

"Apparently, I have to attend dinner...could you handle Alex?"

Merlin's mouth twitched a little, "Alex doesn't need handling. I'll be happy to."

"Right then." Arthur said to Margaret on the phone, "I'll see Kaye at six then. Let him know." Upon hanging up, Arthur almost flinched at Merlin's face, "You have to stop looking at me like a drowned cat. It's not helping anything." He said brusquely, if Merlin was not going to grace him with an answer, than Arthur...well, there was really not much Arthur could do. "I should be back by eight-thirty, nine."

"Okay. We'll be here."

Arthur looked at him, "When I return, I'll expect you to have an actual answer for me."

Somehow, they ended up over at Morgana's, and she fed them hot dogs smeared with homemade chilli sauce. Merlin was getting to like Morgana better and better, and Mordred was already her slave. Merlin made a mental note to remind his brother that she was Arthur's sister (translation: she was scary) and that she was married (translation: don't even try.) Orwaine was there too...although he was not a man of many words. He left after the hot dogs and excused himself to the den to watch football.

This didn't faze Morgana any, "...My husband's very shy. He's like that."

Alex supplied, "But he's actually my favorite uncle, he's got all these really cool planes."

"Alex." Morgana said, her voice affectionate, "Orwaine is your only uncle."

Alex grinned at her, "I don't have to like my only uncle. Do we get dessert?"

"We sure do." Morgana got up, "Orwaine bought frozen cream puffs today. They're very good, and I thought we'd just heat them up...Mordred, would you mind?"

"Yeah. Of course." Mordred hopped up, and Merlin made a mental note to warn her, later. It wasn't like Mordred would just hit on her in her own kitchen with her own husband in the den, and Merlin was sitting right here in the dining room. Even Mordred was not that stupid. At least...Merlin honestly hoped he wasn't.

All that, however, flew out the window when Alex looked at him and said, quite loudly. "Dad's thinking about dumping Sophia."

Morgana said, "Oh, that's great. Why's that?"

"Because he's thinking about hypo something dating Merlin." Alex's brow scrunched, "I don't remember the word. It was a really long word."

Merlin's brain stopped at 'dating Merlin'. "...W-what?" He said dumbly.

"Come again?" Mordred blinked.

And little Alex looked so pleased that he had everyone's attention. "I said." He said, practically savoring each world, "That Dad's considering hypo something dating Merlin."

"Hypo-something?" Morgana repeated, years of being a socialite probably taught her how to say things with a straight face, she kept up a sober expression beautifully, "Do you mean hypothetically?"

"Yeah! That's the word...what's it mean again?"

"It means 'if', Alex." Morgana said while Merlin's lips tried to move. They ended up not really moving because he couldn't quite trust himself to say anything coherent. "So Arthur asked you something about if he dated Merlin." She prompted, "And..?"

"Dad asked me if I minded." Alex said innocently, "I said no not really, except that he'd better be nice because Merlin's a nice person."

Mordred snorted loudly, "...Did you just say Merlin was nice?"

Merlin was too stunned to even offer offense. Alex offered it for him, glaring at Mordred, "He is."

"Not if you live with him all the time." Mordred had the gall to feign hurt, a hand over his heart. "He yells at me and it's really annoying."

Merlin looked over at Morgana, who was shaking her head. Merlin found that she couldn't read her expression at all. She said, "...Come with me to the kitchen."

"My brother is a lot of things." She said finally, and Merlin didn't know whether or not it was a good thing, but Morgana Le Fay sounded genuinely bewildered, "But I've never pegged him to be bisexual."

Merlin's heart bit into his rib cage, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for these things. It's not your fault." Morgana told him. She took a deep breath. "It's just...honestly, I never thought Arthur would think of dating anyone ever again. Not after Gwen. And then...you."

"But Sophia--" Merlin started.

"She doesn't matter squat to him. He's probably "dating" her because he needs something pretty to go with him to all those fancy parties." Morgana cut him off, "Merlin, Arthur loved Gwen. We all loved her, she was like a sister to me. Do you know? That one day the two of you had a spat because he got home early...Arthur came running to me. He never does that." As the oven beeped, Morgana reached for a pair of oven mitts and Merlin resolved to get Arthur some for his kitchen--even if he hardly ever used it. "The only other time I could remember, was when I was in grad school, and he called me during this huge final I was taking. Professor Head almost failed me when my phone went off."

"Gwen thought he was flirting with another girl..and threatened to break up with him. Arthur swears he wasn't, but he wasn't type to keep his hands to himself back then." She gave him a knowing look then, "He reminds me of Mordred."

"...I like to think that Mordred is in a class of pervert all by himself." Merlin said, meaning it entirely.

"You'd be surprised." Turning from him, she searched through her shelves for a plate, "Arthur was quite the wild boy when he was in college. Good thing Gwen was quiet and always ready to slap some sense into him."

Merlin suddenly felt alien. Rightfully so, he thought, he had no place here, and this wasn't the world that he knew. "Morgana."

"You and Gwen are a lot alike." She said finally, "You're both kind to a fault, and somehow, you manage to slap Arthur around. It's a rare talent, and you shouldn't let it go to waste."

Merlin was glad Mordred and Alex both had the sense to shut up on the way back. His head was starting to hurt again. Gwen--Guinevere, even Morgana said that Arthur loved her. And Merlin was pretty sure Arthur didn't love easily. Merlin loved too easily, though he never trusted. Perhaps sweet Gwen, who they all loved so much, was both. Merlin suddenly felt suffocated in her shadow.

He was rummaging through Arthur's medicine cabinet in the downstairs when Arthur caught him there.

"...What are you looking for?"

Merlin practically jumped five feet as he whirled around. "..Oh, um. Arthur." He bit his lip, "I needed some aspirin. My head's killing me." It was the second time today that Arthur had caught him off guard.

"It's the bottle two to your left." Arthur pointed.

"...This one?"

"Yeah."

Merlin shook out two tablets for himself and after taking a look at Arthur--his weary, pale face made Merlin's eyes want to water again; he shook out two more, and held them out. "You look like you need some." Arthur should really stop going to those dinners if he was going to come back looking like a truck ran him over. "You look like the aftermath of an earthquake."

That earned him a baleful look, "Do not." But he took them anyway.

"Look." Merlin gestured humorlessly at the mirror, as he popped the pills dry.

Arthur came up beside him and shut the cabinet. He blinked at his reflection in the mirror. "Christ." He rubbed at his reddened eyes, "Sometimes, I want to sell my own company and retire to a farm or something."

Somehow, Arthur didn't belong on a farm, not in Merlin's head. After a moment's hesitation, his hand came to rest on Arthur's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"This was why I didn't want to list. Investors bring obscenities to a new level for me. In considerations for your ears, don't ask me to demonstrate."

"Thoughtful of you."

When Arthur moved, Merlin took his hand away. Arthur followed his earlier example, swallowing the tablets dry. "I try." He said wearily, "...Where's Alex?"

"He's watching tv upstairs with Mordred. I think they're watching 101 Dalmatians."

Arthur left the bathroom, steps heavy, "...I hated that movie. The dogs never shut up." He walked into the living room, and Merlin made a quick detour to the kitchen to grab a cup of tea that Mordred had made for him earlier. It was a bit lukewarm, but still strong. He made his way back to the living room and set the cup down on the coffee table.

"Here." Merlin sat down in the armchair, far enough away, "If you hate dogs barking, I think you'll have a hard time surviving on a farm. I have three on mine."

"I don't hate them." Arthur said, straightening up to reach for the cup, "I just think they're noisy when there's so many of them. Wouldn't mind three...what's this?"

"It's lemon ginger tea. Mom used to make it for me when I was sick." Merlin said.

Arthur sipped at it, "It's good. A little cool, but good."

"I'll warm it up for you if you'd like." Merlin was on his feet.

"Don't mind." Arthur shook his head dismissively, "It's fine."

There was a silence. One that Merlin almost wished could stretch out forever. He stood up, and walked a slow circle around Arthur's living room.

"This morning. Did you feel sorry for me? Was that why?"

Merlin winced. So this was how Arthur Pendragon's mind ended up working, that Merlin kissed him because he felt sorry for him. Arthur was so high above the people that he didn't understand how people worked anymore. He thought of Guinevere. Morgana had loved her like a sister, and Arthur had loved her. He wondered how she managed. He wondered who she was.

"No, it wasn't." Merlin shook his head. He dared to look back at Arthur slumped on the couch, alone, impossibly old. Yet he didn't feel sorry for him at all, his heart was breaking for an entirely different reason. "Arthur, hasn't it ever occurred to you, that I don't care? I don't care about how much of a failure you try to make yourself out to be. I don't care that you work thirteen hour days at a job that you don't even seem to like..."

"Merlin--"

"Why can't you just accept the fact that yes, I'm a little stupid, and I might like you? I mean, you go through the trouble to ask Alex if he would mind if you hypothetically dated me." He hadn't meant for that to slip, but Merlin was glad to see Arthur's shoulders tense up--Alex hadn't been lying, after all.

"Alex told you that?" Arthur croaked faintly, looking pale. He rose from the couch, still old, and walked over to where Merlin was standing. "...You might like me?"

"Half the time you're not an easy person to like." Merlin forced himself to look at Arthur. "So yeah, I might. And yes, he did."

Arthur made a pitiful sound from the back of his throat, almost like a kitten mewing for its mother. "...I...you." He said finally, "...I get a headache every time I see you, Merlin. It's not like I know what that means."

Merlin was just resisting the urge to bite out, 'That's not good.' when Arthur's head fell on his shoulder. He was so close that Merlin could hear him breathe, feel the rise and fall of his chest. He had to take a moment to remember how to breathe himself. When he was sure that Arthur had no intention of moving away, he put his arms loosely around Arthur's waist.

"I'm tired." Arthur said, "I'm just tired."

Merlin's heart bit, but there was no pity. They stayed like that for a moment, with Merlin's hands rubbing Arthur's back. "I'd be surprised if you weren't." He ventured. "You okay?"

Arthur looked at him, "I'm not sure." He shrugged, although he didn't step away, "That mouth of yours ruins everything."

"What's that supposed to mean?" If Arthur was implying that Merlin was not good at kissing, Merlin was simply just going to have to hit him. Really hard.

"You bit me this morning." Arthur pointed out, "It hurts."

"I said sorry already." Merlin was trying his best to be miffed, but his reddening ears gave him away when Arthur's arms went around him and drew him even closer. "I really didn't mean to. Usually I'm better about this sort of thing."

Arthur tasted like ginger and lemon. Arthur's wedding ring was cool against the nape of Merlin's neck. It was barely a second long, but Arthur smiled at him as he stepped back. "This is better."

Thoroughly dazed, Merlin agreed.

A Fortunate Fall (8/18)

raspberry_pop — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 16:22:07 GMT

banner made by toodelicious
Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 6165
Progress: 8/18
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: Wow...>.> So many responses for this chapter, I'm kind of scared for the fate of this one. Thank you all <33

1/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/871.html#cutid1
2/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/1393.html
3/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/1632.html#cutid1
4/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/2056.html
5/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/2638.html#cutid1
6:18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/3158.html
7/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/3410.html#cutid1

---

"So...I might be moving out at the end of this month." Will announced cheerfully between a mouthful of chicken. It was a rare time that found all four of them--Merlin, Mordred, Matthew and Will--in the living room together eating chicken, drinking soda. This was the way everything was, before things like Arthur Pendragon inspired his thoughts to the most inappropriate places, before Will met Stephanie, before Mordred discovered condoms meant safe sex. (Safe sex apparently led to the discovery that lots of sex didn't hurt.)

"So you're finally getting married." Matthew gulped soda noisily, "Good for you."

"Engaged." Will corrected him amiably. "I'm moving in with her, and we'll see how long we can stand each other." He grinned, "If it's a long enough time, then we'll get married."

"If Merlin had your philosophy, he's probably already married to Arthur Pendragon already." Matthew chortled, as if it really was that funny.

Mordred laughed appreciatively, but Merlin hid his grimace behind a napkin. He had yet to tell everyone that he had been practically outed by his five-year-old charge, and that even if his job was heaven sent, it was hardly a steady job, seeing as how his employer was as sensitive as a rock, and as prone to explosions like a ticking time bomb.

And besides, he found Arthur attractive. That wasn't the same thing as liking someone. And even, besides that, Arthur was a hard person to like. Perhaps that was why little girls who didn't know any better like Sophia Tirmore tried so hard. They just didn't know any better.

"Yeah. The two of you guys can have a double wedding." Mordred smirked, "I'll be the oversized ring bearer, and Matthew can be your best man, Will. Lancelot can be Merlin's."

Lancelot. Merlin had hardly thought about him these days since Arthur was being confusing. Lancelot was never confusing, he was just a down-to-earth nice guy. But Merlin couldn't fathom living with him twenty-four-seven. Too much perfection and niceness made him want to throw up. "It's not that funny." He said flatly, downing his soda, "Arthur and I aren't married."

"I know, I know." Mordred clapped him companionably on the arm, "You guys totally skipped the honeymoon and you went straight to being his wife and licking his boots. I don't know if that's really your thing but--"

"Mordred, listen to me." His forehead prickled in warning, "There's nothing going on between me and Arthur. I work for him, and I'm going to be professional about this."

"And so Arthur dating his underage secretary is professional?" Matthew wanted to know.

"Sophia's not underage. She's twenty-one. Twenty-two soon." Arthur had mentioned it once, and he'd also mentioned that he had no idea what to get his girlfriend. He didn't want to spend an undisclosed amount on jewelry, and he didn't want to buy her a dress. In fact, Arthur had practically admitted flat out that he didn't want to buy anything for her at all.

And since it was her birthday in a couple of days, it became Merlin's job to get her present.

"That's not the point! The point is you're still defending him, and you went up with him on the roof."

Only Mordred would come to the conclusion that going up on the roof with another person meant surefire sex. "...And you're missing my point." Merlin said wearily, as the conversation propelled itself headfirst into a long, familiar cycle, as if without guidance, it knew perfectly well where it was going. "The point is, Arthur has a wife."

That got their attention. "What?"

Mordred looked at him, "You met her?"

"No. But I know she exists." Merlin reached for his soda, "I saw a picture."

"Is she pretty?"

"Yeah." And then Merlin realized, "...Mordred, please don't."

To which his brother cut him a baleful look, "I can't even ask if a girl is cute now?"

"No. You can't."

"What's up with you?" Will asked him later. The two of them were sharing a quiet moment in the kitchen...and it was only quiet because neither Mordred or Matthew voluntarily did the dishes. "I'd expect my best friend to be happy for me."

"I'm happy for you." Merlin assured him. "I'm just a little bit worried for my sanity."

"You'll be fine." Will grinned at him, "Quit being such a drama queen. If anything, you'll probably move out when I do."

Merlin sucked in a deep breath. "You know, I really hate this thing where everyone thinks I'm in a hypothetical relationship with my boss. And besides, I'll probably be fired soon."

"...What'd you do now? Or does he threaten to fire you every day just because he can?" Will glanced at him over his shoulder.

Merlin sighed, "It might actually be legitimate this time. Alex outed me. He says he won't fire me, but it's Arthur."

"I thought you said the kid wouldn't care."

"The kid happens to think there's nothing wrong with having two dads." Not that Merlin thought that there was anything wrong with that either, but Alex was only five years old and Aunt Morgana probably warped his head. "So he probably told Arthur without meaning to tell him. It's not Alex's fault."

"And there you are, making excuses for them again. I might be sane, but I'm almost inclined to agree with those who are not so much." Will said, "You're practically married to the Pendragons."

"Am not."

"And anyway, you're not fired yet, so it's not like Arthur's totally against you." Will pointed out.

Yes, that Merlin could agree with. But he didn't agree with the part where Will had him 'practically married' to the Pendragons. Besides, Arthur had a wife. Who knew where his wife went, but that was not the issue here.

"I want to go out for a drink." Was what he ended up saying, "Don't tell Mordred."

And then...there were times when Merlin desperately needed someone to be nice and not judgmental--and not affirming his practically nonexistent relationship with his boss, the 'wonderfully' attractive Arthur Pendragon was an added bonus. He threaded through the crowds of La Havana alone looking for just that. The music sounded too loud to his ears, and really, the weekday crowds weren't that different from the weekend ones, and he hoped that the bartenders didn't change shifts too often.

He found what he was looking for, Lancelot--albeit it was Lancelot with a young boy's head on his lap. The boy looked barely legal, and Lancelot looked happy to see Merlin.

As for Merlin, he couldn't help but feel a little relieved at the sight of the strange boy. If Lancelot took him seriously, what he'd come here to stay would have just soured everything. "Hey, got a minute?"

"For you?" Lancelot patted the cushion beside him, "Always. Just give me a moment. Quinten here broke up with his girlfriend." He said, stroking the boy's curls nonchalantly, "He came to me for liquid courage."

The boy, Quinten, mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "I'm going to kill you if you tell everyone."

"Merlin is not everyone, Quin." Lancelot said soothingly, "Do you think you could give us a few minutes? Find the bar and ask Ella to fix you a drink. She's a nice girl, you'll like her."

Quinten raised his head, Merlin thought his eyes looked like they were bleeding. But he didn't say anything, and after taking a few experimental steps, Quinten gave Lancelot a hopeful smile, "I'll be right back?"

"And I'll be right here." Lancelot sent him on his way with a disarming smile. When Quinten was gone, he turned to Merlin, "How can I help you?"

Merlin let himself rest his head on Lancelot's shoulder, it made for a convenient pillow, and it was soothing. "I guess you do this all the time, huh?"

"Do what all the time?"

"Offer random people TLC in your bar." Merlin smiled at him, "It seems like you."

"You're too kind." A girl in a short miniskirt swept by and Lancelot grabbed a bright blue drink off of her tray. "Am I really?"

"Yeah." Merlin accepted the thin glass when Lancelot handed it over. He sat sipping it for several minutes before he found the courage to speak again. Lancelot just rubbed his neck and kept up a soothing hum about something or the other. Merlin caught the words 'ice cream', 'peppermint', and 'lawyer'.

"Lancelot?"

"Yeah?"

Merlin swallowed, "This is going to sound very stupid."

"I won't laugh." Lancelot's hand settled promisingly on his knee. Suddenly, Merlin thought of Sophia and her preoccupation with Arthur's knee.

"I...um. I might...like my employer. And everyone thinks we're married."

Lancelot took a long moment to look him over, and he grew so still that Merlin began to fidget until the bartender looked away, "...Is he married?" Lancelot asked finally.

"...I don't know. He has a ring on, but I haven't seen his wife around." Merlin confessed, "He has a girlfriend. His son thinks she's a skank."

It took Lancelot a few more seconds to process that, "So...Alex thinks his Dad's girlfriend is--"

"Yep."

"Alex is some kid." Lancelot shook his head. "Makes me glad I don't have any."

"Alex is a good kid." Merlin argued, "It's just...he has Arthur as a dad."

Lancelot cupped his face, he had soft hands, they were softer than Arthur's. "Merlin. Listen to me. Look at me." He ran his thumb lightly over Merlin's cheekbones, and Merlin realized that he wasn't melting like he had expected to. (Did that make him an idiot?) "You're a nice guy that works too hard. If you really have to work so hard for a guy to like you, then...maybe, you should think about it again."

"But I--"

Before Merlin could finish, Lancelot leaned in and nuzzled his jaw. It left a warm spot that spread to his ears, and then his cheeks. "But if you really like him. Then, I hope that this Arthur realizes that he's plenty lucky."

"Here you go."

It was a Monday morning, and Arthur stared hard at his screen, trying not to listen to the soft thuds that was Merlin's footsteps. He finally looked up though, and saw Merlin holding out a blue gift bag. "What's that?"

"It's Sophia's birthday today, isn't it?" Merlin asked. "This is her present, you asked me to get it."

Arthur glanced blearily at the calendar he always kept nearby for reference. He hadn't even made a note; the spot for Mon. "...Is it her birthday?"

"You told me Monday. Today's Monday." Merlin was not amused. "Something's wrong if I remember your girlfriend's birthday and you don't."

Yes, something was wrong. That, Arthur was rather inclined to agree, but he didn't know what. He doubted that he wanted to know what. Because he had a feeling that Merlin had something to do with it. He didn't want to know. "...I didn't forget, I just...thought it was next Monday."

"...Right."

"Honest." Arthur peered inside the bag, "What'd you get her, anyway?"

"Certificate for three manicures to Green Life Nail Salon, and then I called Gaspard. The two of you have a reservation at Robuchon tonight, show up anytime between 6:30 to 7:30. A couple of Danielle Steele paperbacks, and a bottle of Chere perfume. I looked that one up on the Internet" Merlin folded his hands neatly before him as he spoke.

"You made us a reservation?" Arthur very nearly ripped the bag, "Why did you do that?"

"Arthur, she's your girlfriend." Merlin's voice was not completely steady. "Whether you like her or not, it's her birthday." He took a deep breath, "It'd never forgive my--boyfriend if he didn't at least take me out to dinner for my birthday."

Arthur stared at him. Merlin stood there looking so guilty, fists clenched. He felt a knot tighten in his abdomen without exactly knowing why. "Did he?" He asked, keeping in mind that his voice stayed bland.

"I didn't have one when my birthday came last year." Merlin replied flatly. "I stayed in my apartment and Mordred ordered pizza."

"...How about Lancelot?"

Arthur watched as Merlin cleared his throat and shifted from one foot to the other; after a while, he spoke,"We just met. And for the record, he's not my boyfriend. Alex might have told you that we were, but we're not. I have no intention of letting this interfere with my work, Arthur."

The knot loosened. And again, Arthur had no explanation. "Merlin--"

To which Merlin only gave him a resigned look, "What?"

"If...you still don't have a boyfriend by the time your birthday comes, I'll take you to Robuchon." Arthur said, and he found that he meant it entirely. "But don't make me take Sophia there." Besides, if Gaspard saw her, he'd probably have a heart attack. She was nothing like the madame that Arthur knew Gaspard adored like his own daughter.

"But you said you liked that restaurant."

Arthur wanted to hit sense into him, really, he did.

"Sophia will make you hate things." He admitted quietly, and then wondered at the words that came out of his own mouth. Maybe she did, and one of those things included 'women', or perhaps having a sister like Morgana already inclined him to that conclusion. "I like Robuchon, and I want to keep it that way. Find something Italian and cheesy."

Merlin opened his mouth and then closed it. And then, he merely smiled. Arthur had the craziest urge to reach out and poke one of Merlin's dimples.

"Fine. Shall I fix breakfast? Or does Sophia make you hate that too?"

Arthur glowered at him. Merlin only grinned some more and went to the kitchen.

"I had fun." Sophia smiled at him, leaning heavily onto his arm. For a moment, Arthur thought it might break. But somehow, they managed to get to and into Arthur's car...and then she giggled and locked her arms around him, "But you know what would really make my birthday,Arthur?"

She had fun, and Arthur was glad that Merlin had found him a nice cheesy Italian place like he had requested. At Rossetti's Piazza, the food was bad, the wine was better, and consequently, they had stayed for more wine than food. He was sure that this place really had its priorities straight.

"What would make your birthday, Sophia?" Arthur asked, suddenly feeling way too old for this kind of thing.

"You could come home with me." Her hand with their newly manicured nails rubbed suggestively against his thigh, and Arthur bit back a shiver of what seemed to him as disgust. "And Merlin can stay with Alexander."

Arthur's mouth tasted all at once like bitter bile. He opened his mouth, and then closed it.

He drove her home, left her there, making a quick detour at a cheap gas station so he could throw up (although he didn't). Arthur went home, and for some reason, it was so gratifying to let Merlin take his coat and smile at him.

"I was almost expecting you to stay out all night."

Arthur cut eyes at him, "Fuck you." He said, only because Alex didn't seem to be downstairs. "I'm going to take a shower, you can leave."

Merlin's eyes seemed to follow him, and a different kind of shiver crawled up Arthur's spine. His mind was not altogether his, as he watched Merlin tug on faded sneakers. He was not a man easily given in to temptation, but he said: "Actually, Merlin, if you wait for me to shower, I'll drive you home. Are the buses even running so late?" His watch read eleven-thirty.

"You're worried about me." Merlin said, and sounded much too smug. "I've taken the late bus at more ungodly hours than eleven-thirty. Try three am."

Three am. To Arthur's unfathomably ancient mind, three am seemed...well, it wasn't that late, but Merlin had no call to be out so late. "What in the world were you doing out at three am?"

Merlin pursed his lips, "Clubbing."

Clubbing. "Oh." How Arthur wished to be young again. The last time he'd gone clubbing was at his stag party before his official engagement party, where his frat brothers had promised him a night full of 'chicks, boobs, and booze'. It was a crude promise, but Arthur guessed the youthful part of him craved that. The night's memory was hazy, Arthur really didn't remember anything--there'd be lots of girls, as promised, lots of alcohol, maybe a smattering of drugs. He didn't remember. What he did remember was that he'd been twenty-three, Merlin's age.

"How'd you manage to find your way back?"

This time, Merlin wore a rueful smile, "I get invited to these things because 'straight-laced Emrys never gets bombed.'"

"That's bullshit." Arthur looked at him, "You're not a college student if you don't get bombed."

"I held out until the first semester of my junior year." Merlin shrugged, "Not something I'm particularly proud of."

Arthur looked at him, "You held out longer than I did." But perhaps he'd always been destined to drown his sorrows in alcohol. His father drank.

"Yeah, but you probably joined a frat." Merlin said knowingly, "Of course you drank. Seriously. Just go to bed. You'll feel better in the morning. I'll be fine."

"It's not a long drive." Arthur insisted, even as his body ached for a warm shower and a soft bed.

"You need all the sleep you can get. I don't know if I trust you to drive at the moment."

"Hey."

"I'm serious, Arthur, one of these days, you're just going to crash." The concern in Merlin's voice was sincere, "Alex needs you, think of your son. I'll be perfectly fine for one day without you driving me."

"Will you call me when you get back, then?"

"If you want."

"Call me." Arthur returned to his task of dragging himself up the stairs. After what seemed like an eternity, he made it to his bathroom. And then a few more eternities after that, he made it to his bedroom naked except for a towel--because he hadn't the foresight to bring clothes with him.

His phone jingled noisily inside his pants, and Arthur had to go through all the pockets before fishing out his phone.

"Yes?"

"It's Merlin." Came the reply. "I'm home. Go to sleep, okay, Arthur?"

"Fine."

"Good. Good night, then."

Alex was beaming again. He had, perhaps innately sensed that things were all right with Merlin and Arthur again, so he was much more cheerful.

Merlin, Merlin did not know where he and Arthur stood at the moment, they probably stood on a knife's edge, where the slightest push would send both of them where they were probably not prepared to go. Merlin hadn't been to see Lancelot since, and he was sure that the bartender would not miss him (that much.) It'd been a week since then.

"Merlin! If I have to hit you to get you to stop spacing out, I really will."

Arthur's voice cut cleanly into his thoughts.

"I'm sorry?" Merlin blinked.

This was an unusual day, Arthur was home early. Merlin's heartbeat was also unusual. It was beating too fast (he was trying very hard to ignore that abnormality for . Alex was looking at him, "So today's Award Night at school." The boy explained, "Can you come?"

"Award Night?" Merlin thought this over, he'd promised to be home to cook dinner for the guys and Stephanie, but one look at Alex's hopeful face and his resolve melted. "Are you getting an award?"

"I dunno. Probably." Alex reached out and tugged at his hand, "But even if I don't, you should come anyway." His lips curled into a childish pout, "Please? Dad's going."

"And it won't take long, an hour at the most." Arthur added, obviously taking the cue from his son's expression, "I'll give you a ride back to your place."

"Yeah, of course we don't mind, have fun on your date!" was not the reaction Merlin expected. But he got that, and, "Bring them along for dinner, Stephanie took over the kitchen. She's making gumbo." As usual, Mordred had more than his fair share of fun.

Merlin hung up and stared at his phone. Arthur glanced over at him as he turned the corner. "If they're angry, just blame it on me and say I coerced you." He suggested.

And yes, that excuse would definitely fly...considering that Arthur did coerce him into most things. Merlin pocketed his phone. "Quite the opposite...actually." He admitted, "Do you want to come to my place for dinner? My friend's fiancee is making gumbo. You're invited. Alex too."

Alex peeped between their seats, "Is she a better cook than you?"

Merlin considered the question, better to be modest, he decided, "I think so, yeah."

"Then can we go? Please, Dad?"

Arthur gave him another look, "Are you sure?"

"It's really stupid for me to ask and then not be sure." Merlin wondered if Arthur ever had a casual dinner with someone, not at a restaurant. Probably not, given how confused his employer looked at the moment, "It's fine. I talked about you a lot and everyone's curious." A hand went over his mouth as soon as the words slipped.

"You talked about me?"

"Er." Merlin kicked himself, "I said good things."

"Really."

"Might have mentioned that you were a workaholic once." He added quickly as he read the disbelieving arch of Arthur's eyebrow. "And then that you were...sort of demanding. But everything else is good. I swear." Merlin held up his hands.

Alex ended up getting awarded twice. Once for Most Creative---apparently coloring trees pink and the grass yellow was creative. And he also got awarded Spelling Bee Champion in the first and second grade division. The winning word had been doughnut. Arthur thought it was kind of ridiculous. He was only clapping and looking pleased only because Merlin had leaned over and nudged him so hard in the ribs that it still hurt.

"Merlin, you have the boniest elbows of anyone I know." Arthur complained as he rounded the corner into the parking lot of Merlin's apartment building.

"After tonight, I'm kind of glad, I put them to good use." Merlin shot back good-naturedly, "After all, Miss Collins kept glancing over at you. It wouldn't look good for you to look so tortured."

Arthur sighed, Alex was too busy examining a plastic trophy with his name on it to be listening. He parked the car in the nearest spot that he could find. "--She likes me."

"I can hear Sophia grinding her teeth just now."

Arthur fixed Merlin with a sour look, "You're not helping. Which floor?"

"Third, it's the second door."

Alex consented himself to be carried after being told that he had to climb up three whole flights of stairs, and after some cajoling from Merlin, also consented to leave his trophy in the car. Arthur felt Alex snuggle into his neck and oddly welcomed the familiarity. Given what he had seen of Merlin's companions so far, it only worried him a little.

It ended up being not bad at all. Arthur was admittedly, sort of out of his usual element eating in the living room with his hands with young twenty-somethings, but Will was sane, Stephanie was sweet. Mordred entertained Alex with stories that were carefully censored with Merlin's glares as supervision. Matthew arrived late, was loud, but he was no different from the frat brothers that Arthur had hung around with in college.

And every so often, Merlin would beam at him with a mouthful of gumbo. Arthur was still not used to eating with his hands, but he'd learned that napkins were a rarity in Merlin's apartment. Alex, however, took to his new surroundings like a fish to water.

Will and Stephanie got to talking about their wedding. They wanted a May wedding because they wanted actual wildflowers and not flowers pre-ordered from a florist. The whole ceremony was planned to be outside. It was not for another year, but they were young. Arthur listened with half an ear--he was actually more concentrated on the way that Merlin was reacting to this, the idea of Will getting married.

Merlin's overall demeanor was bright, cheerful, but he still held himself rather stiffly.

"What was your wedding like, Arthur?"

At Will's question, Merlin tensed, but Arthur was feeling oddly charitable; he put a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "It was big, and trust me, you'll hate tuxedos for the rest of your life. I don't think I knew half the people there." But then, his wedding was...well, not an ordinary matter. "I remembered it was really hot, although we got married in late August." It was getting to be a little too dangerous, so he switched angles.

"My friend's son was the ring bearer. He lost the ring right before it was his turn. It turned up afterwards, but we had to skip that part of the ceremony."

Merlin was looking at him. And Arthur didn't even want to decipher what he saw. "Alexander, let's go. You have school tomorrow."

"Do I have to?" Alex cradled a juice box in his hands.

"Yes, you do. You'll see Merlin tomorrow." Arthur was suddenly in a hurry to leave. "Come on." To Merlin and company, Arthur nodded; perhaps a bit too formally, "Thanks for dinner."

Alex was dragging on his feet, until Mordred smiled at him, "...Hey, next time you come by my ice cream place and I'll give you free ice cream again."

Merlin's shoulder was tingling. It was not until Arthur stood that Merlin realized that his hand had been there for a long time. He hastily got to his feet when Arthur made his way to the door, Alex in tow. "I'll walk you down."

"You don't have to." Arthur slipped on his shoes.

"I'd never forgive myself as a host if I didn't." Merlin opened the door for them and followed them out. Good timing too, because Mordred was snickering.

Outside, Arthur just stood there, leaning on the railing, looking forlorn. Merlin came up beside him, "...Sorry about that. I should have said something."

"It's not your fault." Arthur said, "It's not like you know."

Emboldened by this confession--maybe even too much so, Merlin turned his head, "Are you going to tell me?"

"It's..." Arthur faltered again, "It was really hot that day, and although I've never worn one, I've been told by Morgana and a lot of other people that wedding dresses weighed a ton." So saying, he scooped up Alex, "Honestly, I thought Guinevere was going to get heatstroke or something on our wedding day."

Merlin's heart caught in his throat. "Guinevere...is that her name?"

"Her parents were old-fashioned. She went by 'Gwen' in college to save face."

Merlin's eyes stung, "Did she get sunstroke?"

"Luckily, no. It would have been really embarrassing." Arthur turned, "I'm going to go now."

For all his lecturing, Merlin found it ironic that he was the one that was currently lying in bed with a high fever. He found it even more ironic that it was Mordred standing over him with a thermometer. "You're not going to work today. Just stay in bed."

"Alex needs someone to look after him though. Arthur can't find anybody."

"Or you just can't live out a day without seeing your precious Arthur."

"Mordred." Merlin groaned, "I don't need this right now. I need to go to work."

"Seriously." Mordred rolled his eyes, "You're in no condition to work right now. Why do you pick up all of Arthur's bad habits?"

"At least I don't smoke."

Mordred apparently couldn't disagree with that, so he settled with, "...Look, if you're afraid of missing a day, I'll skip today to look after the kid for you. You can come with me, but you're going to be resting all day. Christ. When did your work ethic get so noble?"

"Mordred, I don't want you to skip school."

"I never skip. You can forgive me once." His brother said shortly, "Get changed then."

Arthur opened his door to find both Emrys brothers standing there. Merlin swayed unsteadily on his feet and Mordred looked a little less than amused. "Merlin, Mordred."

"Merlin's sick." Mordred announced, "So I'm looking after Alex today."

"Well." Arthur looked at Merlin, "...You could have just called me and sent Mordred over."

"But that wouldn't be right." Merlin told him, eyes somewhat glazed. "That's not how I do things."

"He's delirious." Mordred said, "But I couldn't convince him to stay home. I guess he can just lie down on the couch or something while you give me the lowdown on Alex."

Arthur eyed Merlin pensively, "Has he been to see a doctor?"

"I was hoping you'd have some cold medicine lying around. He's just tired."

Somehow, this seemed familiar, except the roles were reversed. "Let's get him to bed then." Arthur took a hold of Merlin's other arm.

"I'm not that sick."

"Yes, you are. And as long as you're under my roof, you do as I say." Arthur said. "Actually, Mordred, would you mind waking up Alex while I get your brother settled?" He was already late for work anyway, and any distraction to keep Sophia further away was welcome. "His room is upstairs, second door down. There's cereal in the pantry."

Mordred went, and after a few moments, Arthur managed to get Merlin into the guest bedroom, and then onto the bed. Merlin gazed up at him with a fever-flushed face and a frown. "Sorry about this."

"You're crazy." Arthur said, "You are."

"I'm responsible."

"You're just crazy right now." Arthur repeated, "Even I took a day off. There's nothing to be sorry about if you're sick."

Merlin looked away. "I just feel bad, it's such a short notice. I would have called Morgana, but I realized I didn't have her number."

Arthur sat down on the edge of the bed, "If you even thought about calling Morgana, I really wouldn't forgive you."

"She's honestly not that bad."

"I'd probably think that if I wasn't related to her." Arthur shook his head, "Unfortunately, I am."

Merlin laughed hoarsely. "Shouldn't you be leaving for work?"

Arthur peered down at him, "Are you really so eager to get rid of me so you can get back up and work yourself sick again?"

"Ha ha, that's really funny coming from you. I have to drive Alex to school, don't I?"

"I'll drop him off on my way to work." Arthur touched his arm, "I've been working thirteen-hour days my whole life, I can handle it. You're not like me." He'd meant it to be kind. Because, hell, he couldn't see how Merlin would want to be like him. Even Arthur Pendragon, if given the slightest sliver of chance, wouldn't be Arthur Pendragon. Instead, he thought he'd make a nice toy shop owner or something in a small town where no one had ever heard of cameras. He'd have a nice unassuming name like Joe Smith. Or something like that.

"Shit."

And Merlin was honestly crying, and Arthur wanted to laugh because the flushed face and the tears streaming from his nose and his eyes made him look undignified, like a sniffling little boy. Instead, his throat caught.

"Arthur, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Merlin grabbed for him, and due to some error of judgment, Arthur let him find a fistful of freshly pressed fabric. And then it was even worse judgment, that must have accumulated thanks to his many vices, because Merlin found his mouth too and kissed him, kissed him, kissed him.

Then he just sobbed some more and blew his nose with Arthur's tie. (which was not new, thank goodness.) Arthur just held him there, mind numb. His hands were numb too, and yet his hands managed to rub soothing circles on Merlin's back. And his mouth didn't remember how to speak. It took ages just to form two words.

"It's okay."

"I'm delirious."

Arthur leaned forward, so that Merlin's back was against the mattress. "That's normal. You're sick."

"I don't know what I'm doing."

Neither did Arthur. He didn't know anything at all, including how to get out of the guest room while looking more than a little bit washed up. His lip was probably bleeding, he had snot on his tie. There was just a lot of things wrong with this picture. He'd just been kiss by a boy--guy, man. Someone male.

He walked a slow circle around the room, and then tossed a conveniently present tissue box onto the bed because it was something to do.

"Merlin. I"m going to go to work now." Arthur hated his voice for not being steady, for being confused. "When I come back, we're going to talk about this...calmly."

Merlin nodded once, looking grave, pained, sick.

Arthur couldn't quite swallow. Before he could be tempted into doing something even more outlandish, he left the room.

Arthur Pendragon had the worst luck in the world, because when he stepped out of the guest bedroom, he ran smack into Mordred, who looked startled.

"Um." Mordred looked at him up and down, "You're not...leaving the house like this, are you, Arthur--er, Mr. Pendragon?"

"Arthur." Mr. Pendragon made him just want to curl up and die. Actually, that wasn't a bad idea at the moment...sadly, it wasn't an option that was available to Arthur at the moment. "And no, I'm not. I'm going to go change." That just sounded strange. "I'll be just a couple of minutes." And then he added, "I think Merlin's sleeping. Let him sleep. And uh, Alexander gets out of school at two. Ask Merlin for his book."

"Oh."

"Is Alexander done yet?"

"Almost. I think he's being picky this morning...your lip is dripping."

Arthur almost blanched--at least Mordred didn't say something stupid and indecent like, "Boy, don't you look totally bombed." like Arthur had halfway expected him to.

A Fortunate Fall (7/18)

raspberry_pop — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 04:01:06 GMT

banner made by toodelicious Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 6069
Progress: 7/18
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: >.> Somehow, this chapter turned out to be monstrously huge, I had to move some scenes to the next chapter...

1/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/871.html#cutid1
2/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/1393.html
3/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/1632.html#cutid1
4/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/2056.html
5/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/2638.html#cutid1
6:18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/3158.html

--

Arthur was nice when he wanted to be, Merlin decided. Within the next twenty minutes, Arthur had managed to procure several things, the most impressive being a private box at the most prestigious opera house in the city, playing Carmen. Not quite as impressive but still pretty impressive, was reservations for two at Robuchon, a restaurant that was practically legendary. And also, someone to look after Alex. Arthur must have pulled extensive strings for that one, because Percival Heming was a busy man with six kids. (Granted, they were from three different wives, but still.)

It was starting to feel a little bit too much like an actual date to Merlin, and he guessed Alex thought so too, because the boy looked at him, perfectly serious, and asked, "...Will Lancelot mind?"

At the mention of Lancelot, Merlin blanched a little, "We aren't like that. We just like each other a lot." He shook his head quickly, "But we're not dating, we're not like your dad and Sophia."

Alex thought this over, "...So why don't you want Dad to know again?" He said, speaking normally, because Arthur had excused himself to his study. "Aunt Morgana doesn't mind."

"Unfortunately, Aunt Morgana is not your father." Merlin said gravely (he shuddered at the thought of that, actually), "Look, I'll tell him eventually, just...let me do it myself, okay? So don't mention it."

"Okay..." Alex agreed with a smile. "I promise. And you'll promise to have fun with Dad, right?"

"Of course."

Arthur appeared after a few more minutes, 'Alex, I tried, but you'll be staying with Percival Hemings."

"Did you go to school with him?"

"Yes, I did. He has two kids with him this weekend. They're around your age and Merlin and I will pick you up after the opera."

Alex thought this over, "Okay."

"Well, come on, go get your coat, I have to drive you over right now." Arthur paused, giving Merlin a hurried once over, "And Merlin, you can't wear that to the opera. I'll be the laughingstock of the city. Go through my closet and find something presentable."

Merlin stared down at his jeans and sweatshirt. "It's not like I got a warning or anything." He grumbled.

"Would it have mattered if I gave you a warning?" Arthur slipped on his shoes near the door.

"Um." Merlin went through his own wardrobe mentally, and then shrugged, "Probably not."

"I rest my case then," Arthur smiled at him. And Merlin hated himself, because Arthur was charming when he wanted to be. His disarming smile almost rivaled Lancelot's. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Bye, Merlin." Alex waved cheerfully at him.

Merlin stood in front of Arthur's closet, feeling slightly lost. Arthur Pendragon owned an impressive array of suits, and all the brand names practically made his eyes burn. After a moment's hesitation, he reached for what he thought was the plainest suit that Arthur owned, a navy blue jacket with matching pants. For the shirt, he just picked out a white one that looked promisingly plain. Merlin hadn't worn a suit since his high school prom, and this just felt weird.

He was struggling with the buttons on his sleeves when a knock sounded on the door, "Merlin, you in there?" Arthur's voice.

"Yeah..." Merlin looked up briefly, and went to open the door. That was odd too, since it was Arthur's room.

And Arthur stood in the doorway, his face stuck between mildly annoyed and ridiculously amused. "You've never worn a suit before, have you?"

"Five years ago for prom, yeah." Merlin said defensively, "But that was five years ago."

"I bet your prom date died on your arm because you didn't know how to wear a suit." But Arthur merely reached up and fixed his collar, and then did the buttons on his sleeves. "There, now you look presentable."

Arthur had warm hands, and they ghosted just so over the skin on Merlin's neck. He had calluses on his fingers, probably from computers.

"Thanks." He said, only half meaning it. "And no, she didn't die on my arm, actually." Because he hadn't gone to prom with a girl at all. He'd gone with Langston Troy, under the guise of going stag. But they'd snuck away after the punch was served and the rest was history. Langston Troy was at Duke now, and probably forgot all about Merlin.

Arthur only gave him a look, a rather infuriating one, at that. "...You're welcome."

Merlin was only glad that Arthur didn't suggest a tie.

"Ah, Monsieur Pendragon! It's been ages." A tall man with a thick accent greeted them warmly at the door of Robuchon. "It's such a pleasure to serve you again. Is the madame not joining us today?"

Merlin watched as Arthur's jaw set, "No, she will not. It's just me and Merlin today. It's nice to see you too, Gaspard."

"Yes, please, you and your gentleman friend, come right this way, I've cleared your usual table." Gaspard's tongue rolled a mile a minute as he led them through a maze of tables, until they came to a table at the back by a window. Merlin could see the lights, "Please, give my warmest regards to madame, monsieur, and Jack will be with you shortly." Glossy menus were set at both places, and Merlin suddenly felt very awkward.

He sat, and after a moment, Arthur did too.

"Gaspard talks too much." Arthur said dismissively.

Arthur's tone hid what his eyes could not, and Merlin couldn't bear to look at them, blackened with a pain he himself couldn't understand. "Arthur--"

"It's fine. I just haven't been to this restaurant in a while and it's always been one of my favorites." Arthur cut him off brusquely, "Let's get something from the wine list."

"The wine list?" Merlin blinked at him, "But you'll be driving later, won't you?"

Arthur shot his au pair a look, "Just because you've seen me drunk once, doesn't mean I can't hold my liquor. And besides, I drink at company parties all the time. If worst comes to worst, you'll just have to drive." And besides, he needed the wine now; had Gaspard actually kept his mouth shut, it would have been an enjoyable evening. "Don't look at me like that."

Because he couldn't stand it. Whether he knew it or not, Merlin probably pitied him.

Merlin averted his eyes and turned to the menu, and then he gave up. "Arthur, I don't read French."

"Lucky for you, I do." The businessman in him mustered a vague smile for Merlin, "And even luckier for you, I don't think they have anything with cashews on the menu. What happens?"

"You mean, when I eat cashews? I get these rashes that look like burns. Not very sightly." Merlin said, unfolding his cloth napkin and spreading it in his lap. "You allergic to anything?"

"Not that I know of. I convinced my mother that I was lactose intolerant though. I wasn't really." Again, Arthur was surprised at how easily that slipped out.

But Merlin took that in stride, not that there was really anything out of the ordinary in Arthur's statement. "Actually...me and Mordred sort of grew up on a farm. So milk was like water."

"...You grew up on a farm?" Arthur mulled this over, he'd sort of agreed with his head that Merlin had grown up in an apartment on the bad side of town.

"Yes, Arthur, it was an actual farm, with cows and horses." Merlin grinned at him, "We moved out here for me to go to high school in the city, Mom was under the delusion that a school in a city would do better than some hick school. When I graduated, she moved back."

"...I never knew that."

"Of course you didn't, you never sat me down for an interview."

"I had a trying day." Arthur said.

The waiter, Jack appeared then, and Arthur spoke to him briefly (very briefly, because probably Gaspard had probably already briefed him on what Monsieur Pendragon usually ordered.) Arthur ordered a light wine, and he did in French. Perhaps Merlin would be too busy being impressed.

After Jack left, Merlin asked him, "...Did you study French in school?"

"My mother was French. I grew up hearing her speak it, I guess I picked it up." It had been years since Arthur properly talked about his mother. "...She was a lot younger than my father, and he met her when she was a student there."

"What did she study?"

"Painting, she was really good at it too. Morgana had a knack for it, I didn't." Arthur made a face.

Merlin laughed, "...I'm glad you didn't take up painting." He said, eyes honest. Arthur doubted Merlin's eyes could be anything else. "Your talent for ordering people around would have been royally wasted."

"Hey--"

"I'm kidding." Merlin grinned at him. Arthur noticed for the first time that he had dimples. "You really need to learn how to take a joke."

"I can take a joke." But before he got the short end of the stick again, Arthur hurriedly changed the subject. "Did you work on the farm?"

Merlin gave him a look, one that said 'duh', except this one was a lot less endearing than the one Merlin had given him before. "Obviously I did, so did Mordred. We hired help, but help only came around twice a week. It was mostly Mom and me, Mordred was little."

That was probably Merlin's very subtle way of telling him that not everyone was rich and well off. "Must have been difficult for you."

Merlin shrugged, "I grew up doing it. Sometimes, I wished I'd stayed there. Things are simpler that way."

"So why do you?" Arthur asked, "Stay here, I mean."

"Mordred needs me. I'm kind of scared to leave him on his own." Merlin admitted, "I mean, you've met Matthew, I live in a nut house. If I go back to Mom, then Mordred's probably going to contract some incurable STD and die in a bus crash or something, and then I'd feel responsible."

"Ah." Arthur said faintly, "I see your point."

The wine came then, and Arthur was glad of a distraction. He and Merlin practically stood on opposite sides of a wide, endless chasm. They were not from the same world at all, but for a moment, Arthur almost wished they were. He nodded thanks to Jack as he filled the glasses. When Jack was finished, Arthur sent him away with a quick "Merci beaucoup."

He picked up his glass and held it out in the gesture of a toast. "Cheers."

Merlin mirrored him, and their glasses clinked once. "Cheers."

The last time Arthur had eaten with Merlin, Sophia had been present and granted, he'd been more than a little distracted. But now, his attentions were wholly on Merlin; Arthur watched as Merlin chipped away determinedly at a piece of semi-raw steak with specialty seasoning. He didn't think it was possible for someone as skinny as Merlin to finish an entire steak by himself, and Arthur had to blink twice to make sure that Merlin's plate was indeed empty.

"...What?"

"You just..." Arthur shook his head as he helped himself to more wine, "I didn't expect you to eat so much."

"You've never been a starving college student, have you?" Merlin asked, "Once, when my global economics professor took some people out, it was to this dinky Chinese buffet all you can eat thing, and...we cleaned out the place. I have a very good appetite when the situation calls for it."

"I see." Arthur found himself feeling rather sorry for the global economics professor.

"The owner was cool about it though, we all had to do dishes afterwards." Merlin leaned his elbows casually on the table. "You though, you just drank and didn't eat."

When Merlin pointed to his half eaten entree, Arthur picked up his fork and stabbed at it halfheartedly, "I'm not that hungry."

"I thought you said this was your favorite restaurant." Merlin chided.

"...It is." When someone else other than Merlin occupied the place across the table. Arthur didn't even know why he'd chosen to bring Merlin here, perhaps it was his way of apologizing, letting Merlin see a more personal part of him. "I like looking at the lights."

"Arthur, most people come to restaurants to eat, not to drink wine and stare at lights."

Arthur suddenly wanted to reach across the table and hit him. Really hard. But he decided to refill his glass with the last bit of wine instead. He drank that, and when he got on his feet, he was almost wobbly on his feet. Almost, but not quite. "If we don't go soon, we'll miss the opera."

Tonight, the opera was Carmen, starring up-and-coming talent: Joan Lauren, a recent graduate from Boston Conservatory as Carmen, and Henry Waldenfield, graduate of Julliard, as Jose. Arthur must've read the program front to back, and back to front at least twice, before glancing over at Merlin. Merlin, for the lack of a better word, looked very cozy on his private couch, hugging a red cushion to his chest.

"Do you come to the opera often?"

"I used to." Arthur said, "Before I got busy."

"I could get used to this." Merlin smiled at him.

"I bet you could." Arthur smirked at him, "We can order something before the show actually starts, if you want. Dessert, or something. They have good pastries."

"I shouldn't hang out with you too often." Merlin glanced at him, "You're going to make me fat."

"Can you even get fat?"

"Dunno, I've never tried."

Three chocolate pudding pastries later, Merlin had a smear of chocolate near his chin, and Arthur tossed him a napkin.

"My stomach hurts."

"I never said you had to eat them all at once, idiot."

"But they're good." Merlin licked at his fingers. "And I saved the last one for you. Aren't I thoughtful?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Are you fat yet?"

"Nope, feed me twenty more, and then maybe. But not right now, I'm going to explode." After some difficulty, Merlin managed to get himself upright. "You're smirking. Do you like seeing me suffer that much?"

"Maybe." Arthur allowed himself a smile.

"Arthur, you prat."

"So the guy that takes you out to a nice dinner, and an opera, and buys you pastries is a...prat." Arthur raised an eyebrow as he leaned over and reached for the last pastry, "Really?"

"Ngh." Merlin made a sort of distressed sound and fell back on the couch. "Just because you're nice now doesn't mean that just negates all the other times."

"Hey, that was only once."

"And there was that one time where you upset Alex by not coming home." Merlin reminded him.

"...That wasn't my fault." Arthur said. "My code blew up."

Merlin looked at him, legs slung over the couch, "...Have you ever even considered a vacation?"

"I don't have time for one." Arthur sighed, "Soon, maybe."

And then there was silence, and they watched the ending finale. Having missed most of the opera however, Arthur had no idea what was going on. Apparently, though, Merlin did. Because he looked so giddy, like a high school girl, when he clapped his hands off. Arthur found himself feeling strangely privileged.

Merlin was silent as Arthur pulled up to the curb. After a moment of thought though, he looked over at Arthur, "Are you in a hurry to pick up Alex?"

"Percival said he'd be up all night, and Alex likes his kids." Arthur reasoned, "So no, I can spare a couple of minutes. What is it?"

"I want to show you something. Can you park?"

Arthur looked a bit uncertain, but did as Merlin asked. Most likely, he was worried about his car, in these parts, the vehicle stood out a mile away. "It's only going to be a couple of minutes." Merlin promised as he led Arthur up the stairs.

"Are you going to invite me in for tea or something?"

"That's Morgana's job." Merlin returned with a grin.

"Don't get along too well with my sister." Arthur warned, "She bites."

"Only you, probably."

And when they got up to the top of the stairs, Merlin's good mood died then and there. Mordred was there, necking with either Celia or Valerie, in full view of his employer. (Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea after all.)

"Mordred!" Merlin couldn't even look at Arthur and he hoped he was blocking enough so that his employer couldn't see. "Don't do that in broad daylight out in the open where people can see you!"

Mordred blinked twice, "I thought you said you weren't coming home. It's hardly broad daylight." He had a large pinkish bruise on his neck and looked rather disoriented. Celia, (now that he was a little closer, he could see.) looked more than a bit ticked off at being interrupted.

"If I didn't come home, you shouldn't be having sex on the roof anyway." Merlin deadpanned, "Go into the apartment and use protection. And don't scare away my boss."

"Your...boss?" Mordred appeared to think this over, "...So basically, you want me off the roof so you can use the roof."

"Not that way!" Merlin snapped as he started to feel his ears burn. His ears always burned before his cheeks did. "Just get off the roof!"

"I will, fucking Christ, keep your pants on." When Mordred passed Arthur on the stairs, he offered a hand, "I'm Mordred, Merlin's younger brother and his better half. He's a good guy most times, though."

Arthur looked confused. A good sign. Merlin turned and fixed his brother with the most threatening glare that he could possibly manage.

"Mordred."

"Mom." Mordred shot back indignantly and clanged down the stairs.

Arthur looked at him, "...Mom?"

Merlin shrugged, "...I'm their token mother hen." It was not a title he was proud of.

"It suits you." Arthur said, "...So that's Mordred."

Merlin could have complained, but he remembered he was talking to Arthur Pendragon--of course, this particular Arthur Pendragon was nice to the point of creepy that Merlin almost didn't recognize him, but still. He smiled a helpless smile, "What can I say? He's nothing like me."

"I hope you're not implying that Morgana's anything like me."

"No, of course not."

"Good." Arthur looked at him, if he was pissed off about Mordred's little performance, he did a good job of not showing it, "What did you want to show me?"

"I...well. Earlier." Merlin faltered, suddenly overcome by shyness. "You said you liked lights. So I thought...ours is a tall apartment building, seven floors. I can see lights from my roof. I mean...the view's not the same...but." And he did come up here sometimes, but not as often as Mordred. (Coming up by himself was weird, Mordred usually had girls with him.)

Arthur's expression looked ominous and soft at the same time. "Thank you, for showing me."

Merlin almost felt as warm as the brilliant lights that spread out before them like a blanket of gold. Arthur stepped a few steps away from him. "You're welcome."

"A long time ago. We had a large flat in Germany. It was on the tenth story. And I loved the roof." Arthur walked back to him. His hands were unexpectedly as warm as his voice had been, as they touched him. "I'll see you Monday?"

"Monday." Merlin couldn't trust himself to speak above a whisper.

"Good night, Merlin." Arthur let go of his hands.

When he woke up Sunday, Merlin was greeted with Will eating breakfast, and, "...Merlin, you look happy. Lovesick happy. Big date with Lancelot yesterday?"

"...I wasn't with Lancelot yesterday." Merlin said, "Mordred didn't tell you?" After all, Mordred had made a big deal when he'd brought Arthur up on the roof.

"I didn't get in until just now. Must have missed it." Will looked at him.

"Be glad you did." Merlin said, helping himself to a waffle. "I just...my boss invited me out, to apologize for being an asshole." It felt funny saying it. "I'm surprised I had that much fun."

Will watched him carefully, "Course you did, you like him, don't you?"

"Did you honestly take me seriously?" Merlin looked up, rather wary.

"Matthew and Mordred probably didn't. But I grew up with you." Will broke off another bit of waffle and chewed thoughtfully, "I couldn't stand you when you wouldn't shut up about Langston Troy."

"...Arthur's nothing like Langston." Merlin mumbled. "And besides, he's probably still married. I don't wish a sexual identity crisis upon anyone."

"What's he doing going around with a little girl if he's still married?" Will asked, "Wouldn't that make his company look bad?"

Merlin bit his lip, "I don't know."

"Besides, Arthur might subconsciously like you. You never know."

"...Subconsciously like me?" Merlin blinked at him, "...Don't start." Will's girlfriend Stephanie was a nurse at a mental clinic. Some of her mannerisms rubbed off on Will. Not in a good way either. "Arthur's straight."

"Does he know about you and Lancelot?"

"No. I'm trying to find a suitable time for that. But it's not like we're involved. Not that that will matter any, Arthur will probably fire me anyway" Merlin winced, "Will, you're starting to sound like Mom."

"Well, someone needs to." Will smiled at him, "Considering how you're everyone's mother. Maybe Arthur's not as straight laced as you think he is."

Arthur was regretful. He saw himself as mostly a fiercely private person, but he couldn't quite gather all the pieces that he dropped. As a general rule, he never talked about his mother, and he never talked about his childhood. He'd talked about both, at length, with Merlin, and now he wanted the pieces of himself back.

"...Dad."

Arthur raised his head to see Alex at his doorway, what time was it? (the clock that hung on the wall said nine) His head felt heavy, but it wasn't from alcohol. "Alexander." He blinked a couple of times. "Come here."

"Are you sleeping in today?" The boy asked him as he padded over, pulling back the covers and getting in. "I want to, too."

"Okay."

Alex looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, "Did you have fun with Merlin yesterday?"

"Yeah, it was fun." It was also emotionally stressful, but most of it was fun. More fun than he should be having, actually. "We went to the opera. You're not old enough to go yet though." Arthur reached out and smoothed Alex's hair, "I'll take you soon."

"Can Merlin come when you take me?"

"Maybe." Arthur withdrew his hand. "You really like Merlin, don't you?"

Alex thought about this, placing one finger under his chin. "You probably like him better."

Arthur's jaw dropped, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Am I wrong?" Alex grinned at him.

Arthur was going to have a long, long talk about this with Morgana, who he suspected was wholly responsible. "Alex, you don't know what you're talking about." He said, knowing the statement to be mostly true.

"See? You even called me Alex."

"That doesn't mean anything." Arthur quickly added, "Alexander." But then he remembered, "Do you know who Lancelot is?"

Alex said, "Merlin said he'd tell you himself. I'm not allowed to say anything."

Merlin telling him was a long time coming, probably. "Can't you give me a hint?"

The boy wavered. "Merlin likes him a lot." He admitted.

Arthur stared at the ceiling, "How much?"

"They're kind of like you and Sophia." Alex shrugged, "But they're...more normal. And they actually like each other." He shot Arthur a look, "Lancelot's really nice." ('nicer than you' was not so subtly implied.) But then, Alex was only five.

Oh.

Arthur's hand shot to his suddenly throbbing temple. A lot of things were wrong with this picture. He didn't even want to begin to dissect everything right at this moment. "I see." But in a way, everything made sense now. He suddenly needed a drink.

"Dad...you're not mad, are you?" Alex watched him carefully, "You're not supposed to know about this."

"Alex, I'm not mad." And he had called Alex that before Arthur could realize it. He was bewildered, but not mad. "I'm not mad."

"Good." Alex snuggled closer to him, "Merlin was worried about that."

And...Arthur didn't want to think about that either. "Oh."

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you sure you're not mad?"

"Positive."

Alex picked at the blanket, "Can I ask you something then? You asked me about Lancelot."

An eye for an eye. If the situation had been different, Arthur would have appreciated Alex's innate sense of business. "Is it something that I wouldn't want you to know?" He asked plainly.

The boy shrugged, "I dunno. It's just a question."

"Okay. Ask."

Arthur watched as Alex hopped off the bed and went over to his desk, and came back with small, framed photo. And suddenly Arthur did not remember how to breathe. He'd kept himself busy, busy enough so that he did not have to think about her. Alex's expression was innocent as he held out the picture.

"Who's this?"

"How'd you know that was there?" Arthur felt a led lump form in his throat.

"Merlin found it while he was cleaning." Alex's eyes were wide, trusting. "Is she my mother, Dad?"

Then his eyes started stinging. Arthur Pendragon possessed the gilded tongue of a serpent, but the one word suddenly felt heavy on his tongue. "Yes. She is."

Alex touched his arm, and just smiled at him. After a brief moment, he put the picture back where it belonged. "I look like her."

"You do." Arthur thought his voice was cracking. He cleared his throat quickly and looked away, "I'm going to fix breakfast, all right? Put the picture back."

The following Monday, when Merlin walked into Arthur's study, Arthur was coding on his computer.

"Hey."

"Merlin." Arthur swiveled around in his chair and looked at him. Merlin felt an icy chill crawl up his spine. "Have a seat. We need to have a talk."

He could glean no warmness from Arthur's voice, and that scared him a little. But Merlin did as he was told, pulling up a chair. "...Okay. I brought back your suit." He said, gesturing to the clothes on the hanger Will had insisted he bring, even if he wasn't a walking coat rack.

"Dry cleaned?"

"I went over Sunday." Merlin said, "...What's up?"

"Two things, I want Alexander away from your friends. And I want you to stay out of my room. Are we clear on that point?"

Merlin felt his gut twist into a tight butterfly knot, "Arthur. If it was something I did--"

"You're not getting fired." Arthur cut him off shortly, "But I want to make sure we understand each other." Arthur got up from his chair and gathered files under his arm. "And I also want you to understand that first and foremost, you're my employee, and I have a right to know things."

Merlin swallowed. "I've told you everything."

"Have you?" Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Yes." Merlin bit his lip, "I'm going to fix breakfast now."

"No need, I'm eating at the office." A part of him blanched at the mere thought of eating with Sophia, but Arthur desperately needed something familiar. Even if familiarity was something he couldn't stand. But at least, he could explain why he couldn't stand something; in Sophia's case, she was young, naive, and she couldn't pronounce 'Monet'. But at least she wasn't a threat to him in any way.

Not like Merlin. Arthur didn't know what to think when it came to Merlin. So he wasn't.

Sophia, glad to have her Arthur back for breakfast, outdid herself. In the span of twenty minutes, Arthur found his desk bombarded with exotic breakfast foods. "...Sophia, what's all this?"

"Breakfast."

Arthur rubbed his temples, "...You bought enough for the entire office."

She settled into his lap, kicking off her shoes. "So let's have a party, Arthur."

His spine tingled, but not in a good way. Arthur settled his hands on her hips, she was leaning close enough so that he could see that her lipstick was thick--three layers. Why he even noticed was beyond him.

"Party for what?"

"I wouldn't know." She laughed at him, "Think of something."

Kissing Sophia Tirmore was not new to Arthur, not anymore. But he still wanted to throw up every time they did, and Arthur was only vaguely aware that this was definitely not a normal reaction. He was relieved when someone rapped loudly on his door.

"Hey, sorry if you're having a lovefest in there, but Arthur! This is important."

Perhaps some trace of the integrity he still had left caused Arthur to flush dark red at the sound of Kaye's voice. When Sophia showed no intention of moving, Arthur said, "...Get off a minute."

She did, looking supremely offended.

Arthur straightened himself hastily, although there were probably tell-tale wrinkles on a freshly-ironed suit that no amount of tugging or straightening could get rid of. He walked to the door and unlocked it.

"Yes?"

Kaye cleared his throat, not looking perturbed at all about the fact that he wasn't being invited into the office like usual. "21st Century Tech magazine called. I don't handle your publicity but I thought you'd want a figure sheet." He held out a file under his arm. "And I put out an official listing already. Last time I checked...the numbers are solid."

"Oh." Arthur took the file. "What does 21st Century Tech want?"

"They want a profile of you, and also, the Iconia Convention wants to know if you want to make an apparence in Vegas next month to present the update on KnightSpeed." Kaye smiled a smile that was altogether too knowing. "But I'll wait until you've had your breakfast before I say anything else."

"Kaye..." Arthur pursed his lips.

"Yes, Arthur?"

"Take this food," Arthur grabbed two bags off of his desk, "And go have a party. Wipe that stupid smirk off your face."

Alex's class was participating in a schoolwide coloring contest. Merlin had never asked Arthur what he thought about crayon scraps littering his dining room table, but he arranged the crayons by shade as Alex sat with his head bent, concentrating on a picture of a jungle. Apparently, it was 'Save the Rainforests Month' or something.

"Merlin."

"Yeah?"

"I know why Dad's mad at you." Alex wouldn't look at him.

Arthur was a little cold this morning, and a little defensive, but he probably wasn't mad. "Why's he mad?"

"Because I...um. Told him."

Alarm bells went off in Merlin's head, "About?" He prompted weakly, although part of him already knew.

"...Lancelot." Alex's voice got softer and softer, "But I swear! I didn't say anything, only that you liked each other a lot and that he was really nice to me."

And Arthur Pendragon was not a stupid man. He probably only needed that much to put the two and two together. Even if he and Lancelot really...weren't. Merlin chewed on his lip some more, "...What else did you say?"

"Nothing really..." Alex picked up a yellow crayon, "I asked him who the lady in the photo was."

"What did Arthur say?"

"She's my mother." Alex admitted, "But Dad looked like he was about to cry...so I stopped asking." He looked properly miserable, "...I shouldn't have said anything."

"Alex." Merlin's hand settled soothingly on the boy's head, although he didn't feel so calm, "It's all right."

Arthur drove him home that night in silence. Merlin found that he didn't know how to start conversations with a wall, even Arthur Pendragon made to be a very attractive wall--(most times, Merlin was the wall while Matthew and Mordred never shut up)--and these were the kinds of thoughts that got him into trouble. He tucked them away sternly, as his employer held a cigarette between his fingers.

Arthur had taken up smoking again. And he never asked if Merlin minded. The part of him that liked Arthur wondered if Sophia was the cause.

They were a block away from Merlin's apartment when he finally drew up the courage. "Arthur."

"What?"

And the words were stuck on his tongue. It suddenly didn't matter. Merlin was probably going to be fired anyway. What good would an explanation do, when Arthur's mind was made up? Hell, Arthur was probably driving him home as a courtesy. "Actually, I--"

Arthur pulled up near the curb and stilled his engine. "I can't believe you don't trust me at all." He said, as if reading the thoughts in Merlin's head. He paused to blow smoke out the window. Merlin watched as the wisp curled up into the air and disappeared. "...I'm disappointed in you."

That felt worse than being told he was fired. Merlin unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Sorry." There was really not anything else; nor could Merlin really will himself to try.

Arthur said simply: "I'll see you tomorrow."

A Fortunate Fall (6/18)

raspberry_pop — Sun, 31 May 2009 21:23:43 GMT

banner made by toodelicious Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 5033
Progress: 6/18
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: Holy Crap I'm a third of the way through! Thanks everyone!!

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4/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/2056.html
5/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/2638.html#cutid1

Adhering to the 'no calling your one-night-stand partner immediately after as not to seem too desperate rule', Merlin waited a full two weeks and a half before he called up Lancelot. Honestly, he didn't really think it would be wise to hop into bed with the bartender again, but...well, Lancelot was fun to hang out with. And Merlin reasoned that he could have normal male friends, even though he was gay (and Matthew and Will were not included in that category.)

He wasn't sure what Arthur would think about it, though. But Lancelot somehow convinced him that "Yeah, it's a good idea to hang out on Saturday, I have the whole day off. Bring the kid along." Lancelot was a frighteningly convincing person, Merlin was pretty sure that with the right provocation, Lancelot probably would be as scary as Morgana.

However, he did trust Lancelot a lot more than say, Mordred. After all, Lancelot had kept his word. He'd kept Merlin out of trouble, and, most impressively, didn't hang him out to dry the next morning.

A little apprehension was normal, though, Merlin supposed, as he lugged Alex up Lancelot's driveway. Lancelot apprarently owned an actual house.

"...Who are we visiting again?" Alex asked sleepily. head snug in the crook of his neck.

"My friend Lancelot." Merlin said. "Don't worry, he's a nice guy, you'd like him."

"Oh, okay then."

Lancelot met them at the door, given their last encounter, Merlin had kind of expected him to open the door naked...but he was happy to stand corrected. Lancelot dressed in sweats and a t-shirt was also very sexy. "Good morning, Merlin." His smile was disarming.

"Um. Hi." Merlin shifted Alex awkwardly in his arms, hoping the sudden flush to his face did not betray him completely.

Alex looked at Lancelot for a long, long minute before venturing, "Hi, Lancelot."

Lancelot's lips twitched in amusement, "Playing Daddy really suits you." He opened the door wider, "Come in." To Alex, he said, "Hey there, what's your name?"

Merlin looked almost horrified, "...But I'm only twenty-three." He groused.

"My name is Alex. And I wouldn't mind if you were my dad, Merlin." Alex supplied helpfully, "You practically are, anyway."

Lancelot clapped a hand on Merlin's shoulder and grinned, "See? Even Alex agrees with me. Great minds think alike."

Merlin's head whirled. If he was 'practically Alex's Dad.' then it was like he was 'practically Arthur's wife'. He did NOT have a fascination with the position of Arthur's wife. But Mordred's saying it had stuck in his head and would not leave. He wished it would. It was not appropriate to be thinking about his employer like the way they were tempting him to.

"Alex, you already have a dad. It doesn't work like that." Merlin said. He looked at Lancelot, "Don't encourage him."

Lancelot only grinned some more.

Alex, blissfully unaware of what was going on between the lines, insisted, "There's nothing wrong with having two dads, you know."

There was a brief (slightly shocked) silence.

Lancelot snorted outright. Merlin just stared. Alex blinked.

"Alex, oh, Alex." As mostly expected, Lancelot recovered first, "Kid, I think you're my best friend now." Slinging an arm around Merlin's shoulders, "He's right, Merlin."

Alex looked pleased.

"Shut up, Lancelot." Merlin said exasperatedly.

It ended up been a fun day. That, Merlin had to admit. At first, after the morning's little scene, he'd almost thought that Lancelot was really a bartender at hookup central at heart. Alex had taken to Lancelot like a fish to water, and agreed to let Lancelot carry him when Merlin couldn't feel his arms. They'd spent their morning just walking around the downtown district (Lancelot knew a place with fantastic steak) and for the afternoon, they'd hung out at a children's carnival.

Alex spent the day looking like he had died and gone to heaven early. They also discovered that poor Alex had never heard of cotton candy, and to rid him of his utter ignorance, Merlin bought him a huge pink puff cloud. Lancelot contributed by buying him a caramel apple after the cotton candy had been exhausted.

"I'd never thought you were the type to go to these carnival type things." Merlin's leaned his head on Lancelot's shoulder while the ferris wheel rolled up lazily. Alex currently made himself comfortable on Lancelot's lap and wasn't paying them any mind.

"...Is it because of where I work? It's not my only job, you know." Lancelot looked amused, "I was a bit of a carney junkie when I was a kid. My brothers used to take me all the time."

"How many brothers?" Merlin asked curiously.

"Four." Lancelot held up the corresponding number of fingers. "I'm the youngest one. We still get together at the bar, usually."

Four. Merlin was amazed. Perhaps it was because his own sibling experiences hadn't been as positive...but he couldn't imagine living with four replicas of Mordred. But Lancelot was the youngest one, so...it was different.

"Wow."

Lancelot ran a hand through Merlin's hair, "I was really annoying when I was younger."

This brought Alex back, "Were you really?"

"My brothers said I was, yeah."

Alex took a moment to digest this, and then he glanced out of window again, "You're not really."

"Might have wised up a little." Lancelot shrugged. "No big deal."

"You're modest." Merlin smiled up at him.

He didn't really mind when Lancelot kissed him. In fact, Merlin thought he was on cloud nine.

It crashed though, when Arthur called. It was the first time Merlin had heard his employer sound entirely pissed off. Although he wondered exactly why, since it was barely six o' clock, and he had gotten used to an Arthur that got home around eight on Saturdays.

"Merlin, where are you? Where's Alexander?"

Merlin glanced over. They were back at Lancelot's house, and the three of them were settled in the living room watching Wheel of Fortune and eating salad and drinking soda. That was another thing he didn't expect about Lancelot the bartender.

"He's here with me." Merlin said, getting from the couch. "...Is everything all right?"

"I'm wondering why the house is empty, that's all." The sarcasm dripped heavily from Arthur's voice.

"Well, um." Merlin bit his lip, "You didn't call me, so...I sort of just...I took Alex out to dinner. I thought you were going to be back...later." He faltered.

"Bring him back."

The phone slammed.

And that was the first time Arthur Pendragon ever hung up on him. Yes, Arthur Pendragon wasn't the most pleasant man in the world, and Merlin found he didn't understand him. He'd long accepted that, in the three months he had been working for Arthur Pendragon. He'd seen Arthur at his worst, and what was arguably his best. What Merlin didn't comprehend at all was how a single hangup could make him feel like his gut had just shattered.

He stared dumbfounded at his phone.

"Hey." Lancelot's hand was on his shoulder.

"Arthur hung up on me." Merlin said, trying not to focus on how much his eyes suddenly stung, but rather, why they stung. They certainly had no reason to sting. Arthur was always late, but Merlin guessed it was unforgivable the other way around. "I have to go. Come on, Alex."

Alex studied him. "Merlin, are you okay?"

No, not really. But Merlin couldn't figure out why. He nodded, "I'm fine, but we have to go, I have a feeling Arthur's going to want to bite my head off."

"You can always come back here and I'll glue it back on for you." Lancelot kissed him, "Okay?"

Arthur found his temper unreasonable. But since when was anger actually logical anyway? He'd remember reading somewhere (an old college textbook, maybe) that people only got angry because they didn't know how else to feel. Anger was a thoughtless emotion, and for the most part, Arthur agreed. What vexed him most not the fact he got angry, rather, it was why.

He guessed he didn't really know why, and anger seemed a fitting alternative. Yes, he didn't like the fact that he didn't know quite where Alex was...but that was something that never bugged him before.

And Arthur knew it was a bit juvenile to expect Merlin to be where Arthur wanted him to be at all times...but somehow this was different. He couldn't put his finger on it, but Arthur knew this was different, so therefore, it was justified. He contented himself with this excuse and went out to meet his other car as it pulled up on his driveway. It hadn't always been his other car, but for now it was. Actually, that wasn't right either, it was practically Merlin's car.

All right, so maybe Arthur was concerned about his car. It was unassuming, but still expensive.

...That didn't seem quite right either.

Merlin got out of the car, and before Arthur could say anything, Merlin handed back the keys. "I lost track of time, I apologize." He said, oddly subdued, "It won't happen again."

Arthur pursed his lips, "As long as you get it."

Alex got out of the car, "Dad, you should have let me finish Lancelot's salad." He pouted.

Lancelot. Arthur went through his mental list, and realized he didn't know a Lancelot. "Who is Lancelot, Merlin?"

Merlin looked decidedly uncomfortable, "Um. He's just a friend. We hung out a little today, that's all."

"I pay you to work, not to hang out." Arthur said. Besides, he'd met one of Merlin's friends, Matthew, the poster-child good boy he certainly was not. And besides, Merlin was just...not supposed to do that.

Merlin said nothing.

And then.

"I know." His au pair looked promptly miserable, as the occasion called for.

Alex looked between the two of them. "But, Dad! He was working."

"Alexander, be quiet." Arthur said, the same moment Merlin put a hand on Alex's head and said, "It's okay, Alex."

And damn it, he hated the way that Alex had glared at him, but simmered down for Merlin. Merlin with his hurt puppy face, and Arthur was suddenly overcome with the rather childish urge to hit him. But the urge faded after a moment.

"Take the bus home today, I'm tired." He was going to be mature about this.

"Fine."

Arthur stalked back into the house, out into the balcony. He heard Alex slam the front door.

"Alex, go to bed."

There was no reply, and after two whole minutes, Arthur somehow managed to convince himself that he heard footsteps walk up the stairs. Reaching for his lighter, he lit himself a cigarette. He must have dragged on it, until he fell asleep.

Merlin's dignity didn't let him return to Lancelot's. So he went home. And it was blessedly quiet. It was early, barely eight, and he wished that he was sleepy, so he'd have an excuse.

But he wasn't sleepy. He was tired, possibly depressed. Or he was. All college students who had holes in their pockets were depressed at some point. He supposed the 'holes in the pockets' criteria didn't really fit him anymore considering his 'posh' new job, but...that explained nothing. Less than nothing. In fact, Merlin was officilly scared of how much Arthur Pendragon could ruin his evening by just yelling at him. (It wasn't even yelling, really.)

He was still brooding over that when Mordred and Will came home.

"...Why are you on the couch?" asked Mordred.

"Go away." Merlin said into a cushion.

"You know, it's nothing a good hour of solid clubbing can't solve." Mordred sat down on the couch, knocking Merlin's feet out of the way, "We can go pay Lancelot a visit. Besides, aren't you a little bit old to have teenage angst syndrome?"

"I don't have teenage angst syndrome." Merlin sighed. "Adults can angst too, you know."

"When adults angst, it's creepy."

"Mordred, leave your brother alone." Will said, the voice of reason, Merlin wished he was home more often. But nowadays, Will was spending more and more time at his girlfriend's apartment, and Merlin sincerely hoped his friend wasn't moving out. Because when Will did, Merlin's sanity would move right along with him. "What's wrong, Merlin?"

Merlin was conflicted. Saying 'Arthur Pendragon yelled at me.' didn't seem like a good thing, it made him sound like a whiny girlfriend, of which he certainly was not. He didn't really like Arthur that much at the moment, but he didn't wish two whiny girlfriends upon anybody.

He finally settled for saying, "Arthur was being an asshole today."

"...But isn't that what Arthur usually is?" Mordred pressed. "What'd you do?"

"I didn't do anything." He didn't know if going over to Lancelot's house was 'doing something' but Merlin was pretty sure it wasn't really. "...I was a little late in dropping Alex off, and I guess Arthur was having a bad day or something." He somehow managed to right himself on the couch.

The look that Mordred gave him this time was wholly disapproving. "...You're still making excuses for him."

"He's my boss and I need this job." Merlin insisted.

"You don't need a job that makes you miserable all day. We're not really that desperate and you graduate in a few months." Mordred bit his lip, "Look, I know you think I"m jerking around most times, but I'm actually serious this time, so listen to me, please?" His brother sighed, "...You've been working for like, what? Three months? I won't lie to you, but I'm waiting for you to have a psychotic breakdown. I don't know you."

"I'm not going to have a psychotic breakdown." Merlin said dully.

"Yeah, you are eventually." Mordred looked at Will, "Help me out here, he listens to you."

WIll was hesitant, at last, he stepped into the living room, "Merlin."

"Yeah?"

"I'll probably hate myself for saying this later, but for once, I agree with Mordred." Lowering himself down on the armchair, he looked over, "Arthur Pendragon's been messing with your head too much."

Merlin knew Will was serious when Mordred also managed to look somewhat somber. "Arthur is not messing with my head." He said flatly.

"Actually...yeah, he is." Will pursed his lips, "I'll prove it to you, when he was being an asshole, what did you do?"

"Erm."

"You stood there, and you let him be an asshole." Will's gaze bore sternly into his and Merlin flinched, "Didn't you?"

"I didn't let him be an asshole." Merlin said, "It's not like that at all."

"Merlin." Will got up from the armchair and settled a hand on the top of his head. When Will did that, it always made Merlin feel very strange. "Just say you like him, out loud once, it'll make you feel better."

Merlin drew in a deep breath. Perhaps that was true. After all, he had admitted to Mordred that he found Arthur Pendragon attractive--if not sometimes difficult. It had been three months, and Arthur drove him home practically six times a week. He'd seen Arthur at his best, and his worst and somehow convinced himself that he would weather Arthur under all sorts of circumstances. Because he needed this job.

And he'd met Arthur's girlfriend. It'd unsettled him to see Arthur with a girl who obviously did not know any better permenantly glued to Arthur's hip. He hadn't been able to name the feeling right then, but wondered if it had been jealousy.

And he still spent more time than what was necessary wondering about Arthur's missing wife, and Arthur's wedding ring, how Arthur was so determined to be unhappy. Merlin had gone back to stare at the picture a couple more times.

And always, the young woman would beam at him. It wasn't an answer.

"I like Arthur Pendragon." Merlin said flatly, "Leave me alone, I'm going to bed."

He lay in bed that night, wondering if he meant it more than he should.

Ever since Merlin's comment about Sophia and the reversed Einstein syndrome thing, Arthur hadn't been able to look at his girlfriend in quite the same light. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, Arthur had yet to discover. He discovered soon enough, that it was a very bad thing. Yes, even though Sophia was a surefire way to get everyone to look twice...sometimes, people looked twice for the wrong reasons.

For one thing, Sophia couldn't seem to wrap her tongue properly around the word 'Monet', how someone so fashionable could only manage 'Mon-net' with extra emphasis on the 't'. He'd corrected her so many times that Arthur failed to see the point completely. So they'd stayed away from art museums.

Nothing had changed, conversations with Sophia still felt like pulling teeth, and it wasn't something he liked, but he and Merlin had reached a temporary agreement where they were speaking as little as possible. Yes, Arthur had snapped at him rather unecessarily that one time, but that was a week ago, and Merlin could be a little bit more mature about this.

Besides, Arthur had only snapped at him once, and he'd honestly thought Merlin to be more forgiving. It wasn't that Merlin was unpleasant. He still did what he was told, but it felt like he had reverted back to doing things that Arthur wanted him to do because he had to, not because he wanted to. He still made Arthur breakfast every morning, but no longer sat down to eat with him. And on the car rides home, he met every one of Arthur's attempts engage him in conversation with solemn silence.

Alex too, was quieter. Arthur thought that something was bothering his son, so he'd even placed a call to Miss Collins. But what he'd learned there was decidedly unhelpful, "Alex's doing fine in school. I'm not having any trouble with him at all."

Arthur sighed, turning away from his computer screen to face Merlin, who was holding a cup of coffee.

"Merlin."

"Yes?"

"Is something wrong with Alexander? He's moody."

Merlin looked at him for a long moment, "That's something you should be asking your son, Arthur."

There was a belated pause, and Arthur took a sip of coffee, "I will then." He said tonelessly, "If you find the time, vaccum my room today."

"Fine. If you don't hurry up, you'll be late for work."

"I hate it that you and Dad aren't speaking." Alex crossed his arms.

That was the only reason why Alex was cross. Merlin didn't really know how he could handle having normal conversations with Arthur again, so more often than not, he pled the fifth. Arthur was getting increasingly sore at him, that Merlin knew, but he couldn't trust himself yet.

"We're speaking. It's not like I'm ignoring him." Merlin looked around Arthur's room. It was spotless, and he wondered briefly if Arthur had told him to clean precisely because his employer couldn't think of anything else for him to do.

Alex plopped down on his father's bed and watched Merlin intently as he unwound the vaccum cleaner cord. "Dad cleaned his room Sunday. Did he tell you to clean?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he must have forgot. Dad's really forgetful."

Merlin sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "...I'm not surprised." Trying to channel things to a better note, he asked, "How's Sophia?"

Alex's face scrunched immediately just at the mention of her name, "...I think Dad's breaking up with her. I hope so."

"Alex, you shouldn't say that." But somehow, Merlin felt relieved. "Why?"

"Because...she's annoying." Alex pouted, "And she pronounces Monet 'Mon-net.' Dad took her to an art museum. You know, since she's studying clothes and stuff."

If Arthur was breaking up with a woman just because she couldn't pronounce 'Monet'? Merlin wasn't quite sure what to make of that...actually, he just didn't understand Arthur, at all. "...Is that all?"

"She's always talking about getting married. After she gets married, she wants to move with Dad to Spain, and have three kids." Alex shuddered.

"Poor Arthur." Merlin said, meaning it entirely, even though he didn't make heads or tails of his employer by this point. "He needs a vacation."

"Yeah, I know, right? I'm always telling him to go on vacation. He said he used to travel all the time."

"If you could go anywhere in the world, where'd you go?"

"I'd go to the Matterhorn." Alex told him without any hesitation. "Dad said he went there once, and that it was really fun. If you have time, you should come with us."

Matterhorn. Merlin's mind clicked. It was where Arthur went on his honeymoon. After a few tries, he got up from the carpet, "...Alex, come here, I want you to look at something."

He went over to the desk, and the picture sat there, right beside Arthur's pen case. He plucked the frame from its place and handed it to Alex, who proceeded to stare at it in reverent silence. After looking twice, Merlin realized the glass had been cleaned; the glare almost hurt his eyes.

"Who is this, do you know?"

The boy's face scrunched in intense concentration for a long moment, "...Nope. I don't know who she is."

"I heard you're having problems with your au pair." Morgana opened the door to Arthur looking less than amused, "...I'd never expected you to come here with your tail stuck between your legs, though, Arthur."

Arthur chewed on his lip; not for the first time that day, he wondered why he had left work early in favor of Morgana's house. Sure, it was probably because Sophia was threatening to finally spend the night at a hotel room or someplace, but Arthur in honesty, could have gone home to Merlin. He loved his ego as much as the next person, but Morgana always managed to bruise him somehow.

"Sometimes, I wish we weren't related. Can I come in?"

Morgana looked at him, and then opened the door. "Look, if you're here about your little underaged girlfriend, don't even."

"Sophia is twenty-one and perfectly legal." Arthur snapped back. "And it's not. I handle my women just fine."

"I could beg to differ, but whatever. Obviously, you don't handle men the same way." Morgana had the audacity to smirk at him.

"You know?" Arthur knew he looked perfectly scandalized, and hated it.

"Well, obviously." Morgana made her way into the kitchen and Arthur followed, "What'd you expect? Alex is practically my adopted kid, and when he doesn't have a father to talk to, of course he'll come to his ever caring aunt."

"...Don't flatter yourself, please." Arthur looked a bit green at the thought of Morgana being 'ever caring'.

"I thought you trusted Merlin." Morgana changed the subject abruptly. "So he was late, but it's also partly your fault, you're the one that's always late."

"But Merlin--"

"Has every right to be late like you." Morgana gave him a stern look, "Besides, now you know how I feel. You've been fashionably late for the last three years I've looked after Alex."

Finding no suitable retort to that, Arthur was quiet. Well, it didn't seem fair, obviously, Morgana was already prejudiced by Alex and Merlin; there was not much else he could do. "I guess they told you who Lancelot is?"

"Of course."

When Morgana didn't volunteer any information after that, Arthur looked at her, "...Well?"

"Merlin specifically asked me not to tell you." Morgana said serenely, "So I'm not going to."

"That's not fair." Arthur bit out, "Merlin works for me. I have every right to know if my employee is hiding something. Would I fire him if I knew who Lancelot was?"

"Probably. But you'd regret it after thirty seconds." Morgana sounded perfectly serious as she set a hot mug of coffee in front of her brother. It was due to sisterly instinct, Arthur supposed, that even if Morgana never drank coffee, she always had some coffee to make for Arthur when he came over...which admittedly, wasn't often.

"Besides, that's not what you came here for."

Arthur glared at his coffee. "I don't see why you won't tell me."

"Because even if someone works for you, they're entitled to a private life. You've already horned your way into his weekends, so I see no harm in protecting his privacy." A pause, Morgana cocked her head at him, "...And if you can't figure out what that means, you're an idiot."

"Hey--"

"And you should apologize for being a git ask Merlin out to dinner." Was Morgana's advice before she practically pushed Arthur out the door, "A way to a man's heart is through his stomach, or so they say."

"...Er, I really don't think Merlin's that shallow. Honestly."

"Then, figure something out. Orwaine is bringing back some people from his company and I need to clean the house. I'll see you later." The door slammed in his face.

Arthur walked in on Merlin and Alex playing checkers in the living room. Arthur took one look at the board and had to appreciate the subtle way that Merlin made sure that Alex was always one step ahead.

"Hey." He said after a moment, wondering if anyone would answer. Christ, he was Arthur, Arthur Pendragon, and everyone in his house was mad at him. It was more than a little senseless.

Alex said, "Hi, Dad." Without looking up from the game. At all. Not once. "Your turn, Merlin."

At last Merlin looked up with careful, expressionless eyes, "Hold on a minute, Alex. Arthur, you're early." His voice wasn't quite so expressionless, in fact, Arthur thought he almost sounded pleased.

"And the heavens opened up and swallowed the earth." Arthur supplied dryly, "Pick up your jaw already, would you?" He slung his suit coat over his shoulder. "Anyway, do you have time tonight?"

Merlin's gaze was wary, "To do what?"

Arthur hesitated, "Go to dinner with me?"

Merlin promptly dropped the checker he was holding. It pinged loudly against the glass coffee table and dropped off onto the carpet. "...Excuse me?"

He had Alex's attention too, it seemed. The boy now looked fiercely protective of Merlin and almost glared at him. Now, that was unsettling. Arthur sucked in a deep breath, "Look, Merlin, I know that I'm not the easiest employer to work for, I've horned in on your weekends and I'm late all the time. I'm...I'm sorry." He pursed his lips, "Please go to dinner with me and let me make it up to you?"

Merlin was floored.

Apparently, so was Alex. The boy's eyes widened almost comically as a hand went to his mouth in a proper gesture of shock. The thought--rather, the reality of Arthur Pendragon groveling was definitely new to both of them.

"...You're apologizing to me?" He blinked dumbly.

Arthur glowered at him, "Yes, go ahead, rub it in."

"No, no, it's not like that, it's just..." Merlin had to bury his face in his hands for a good long moment to calm down. He was happy. He wasn't quite ready to betray that to Arthur yet. "I'dlovetohavedinnerwithyou." He mumbled, practically tripping over his tongue as he spoke.

"...What was that?" Arthur asked.

"I said." Merlin had to pause a moment to collect himself again. "Apology accepted, and dinner sounds great."

It was sort of ridiculous really. Merlin couldn't decide either if Alex or Arthur looked happier. He also couldn't really make heads or tails of the warm feeling that had crept into his chest without him knowing; and it stayed there; even when he added rather sheepishly, thinking of Clyde and the zoo, "...I'm allergic to cashews."

A Fortunate Fall (5/18)

raspberry_pop — Sat, 30 May 2009 07:43:37 GMT

banner made by toodelicious Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 5568
Progress: 5/18
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.

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Merlin lived out the weekend in trepidation; because hell, Matthew half outed him to Arthur Pendragon. And Merlin understood completely if Arthur didn't want a guy with a different set of morals around Alex. But when he arrived at the Pendragon house that Monday, Arthur was coding in his study and Merlin didn't even have to explain. Arthur must have thought Matthew was kidding...but Merlin hoped the day would never come when he'd have to explain to Arthur that he was of...wasn't.

"How was your weekend?" Arthur asked him.

"...I'm never cleaning house with Matthew or Will ever again." Post his alleged 'epic' performance, Mordred had begged off his morning duties and instead, called up Celia and Valerie, and Merlin didn't even want to think about what they had been doing. "But otherwise, pretty eventful." He leans his elbows on the back of Arthur's computer chair and watched as Arthur's fingers danced expertly over the keys. "You?"

"We went to zoo Sunday." Arthur said, glancing back at him, "Alexander really wanted you to come."

"Next time, then." Merlin said, straightening up, "...Would you like some breakfast?" He was half expecting a dumb look along with the question, 'What's breakfast?', but Arthur got out of his chair, "Sure. Did you eat?"

"Um." Merlin searched through the morning's activities, he'd slept kind of late, took a long shower, and nearly missed the bus. Nope. "...Guess I forgot this morning, no, not really."

"You really weren't kidding when you said I was a bad influence." Arthur gave him a look. "You might as well eat with me. I'm going to drive Alexander today. But you should ride along and you still have to pick him up."

"Oh." Merlin went into the kitchen and Arthur followed, he was vaguely aware of that , because for the first time, he realized that his employer wore cologne. It was very faint, but warm, and most importantly, it smelled good on Arthur. "...Why are you taking Alex again?"

"Apparently, they're holding parent conferences, since the new term started. I managed to squeeze mine in early." Arthur shrugged.

"You're meeting with Miss Collins?"

"Yeah."

"She hates me." Merlin said with conviction, as he put four slices of bread into the toaster. "Because of what happened at the zoo." he moved to the fridge to pick out an apple, and then rummaged in the drawers for a knife. This was getting to be a little too domestic, and Merlin found it funny that he probably knew Arthur's kitchen better than Arthur did.

"The kid throwing up wasn't your fault." Arthur said, "Did she blame you?"

"No...well, not directly, but the owner of the restaurant did. He hunted us down before we boarded the bus. If I were Miss Collins, I'd hate me too." Merlin sliced the knife through the apple as he talked.

"Well, it's not like she'll try anything with me there to protect you." Arthur reasoned.

"You really try too hard to be everyone's knight in shining armor." Merlin looked at him, "Thanks but no thanks...I don't think I'll go in with you, I'll just wait in the car."

Silence hung between them after that, but it was a companionable silence, and at last Arthur asked, "What are you making?"

"Sandwich, apples with peanut butter."

"A kid's snack?"

The look that Arthur received for that transgression was a baleful one, "...I used to have it all the time. It's healthy." Merlin went back to lathering bread with peanut butter.

Yes, and Merlin, skin and bone, was so the ideal poster child for the health department. Arthur went to check on the coffee. It was about ready. He poured two generous mugs and set them out. (He had no idea why, but he remembered how Merlin liked his coffee, three spoons of cream, and a half spoonful of sugar) "What's Alexander having?"

"I think he prefers cereal in the morning. I'll get it." Merlin set down the sandwiches and disappeared back into the kitchen.

The sandwich was indeed very good, and Arthur couldn't quite figure out why Alex was so chipper this particular morning as he wolfed down cereal. Neither could Merlin, judging by the confused looks that his au pair was giving him across the table.

"Dad is dating a skank." Alex said, quite out of the blue on the way to Morgana's house a couple of weeks later.

Merlin nearly drove into a pole, "...Excuse me?"

"You heard me, I sad, 'Dad's dating a skank.'" Alex repeated, not at all amused. Arms crossed, the boy actually looked quite stern. "I hate her."

"Is it the Sophia lady that you showed me in the photo?" Merlin guessed she fit the criteria of the definition he gave Alex--actually, why did the kid have to remember that word? But well, Arthur was thirty, and single (even with a wedding ring) so dating wasn't a bad thing. He said as much, "Alex, 'skank' is not a nice word. Don't use it unless you mean it."

"But I do mean it!"

"Alex.." Merlin sighed, he was trying his best to be diplomatic, but stubbornness was obviously a trait that he had inherited from Arthur in the worst way. "Listen, I know you might not like your dad dating again, but maybe Sophia's not so bad. You have to give her a chance. I mean, Arthur likes her."

"No, he doesn't."

"Alex." Perhaps this conversation was a little too mature for Alex to handle, Merlin pulled up on Morgana's driveway and stopped Arthur's car. He turned around, so he could look the boy in the eye, "Alex, two people don't date unless they like each other a lot, okay? And everyone's likable somewhere, you just have to look harder."

"Have you ever met Sophia?" Alex's tone was decidedly accusing.

"No, but I probably will soon." Merlin got out of the car and opened the door for Alex, "And when I do meet her I'll promise to be nice too."

Alex took his hand, "But do you know what that means?"

"What?"

"If Dad and Sophia get married, she's going to be my Mom." Alex's face twisted into an expression of disgust. "That's just ew. I have a Mom."

Yes, that was true, but it kind of was counterproductive if Alex didn't know who his mother was. Merlin wasn't about to go down that road. They came to Morgana's door, and Merlin looked down at him again, "Alex, your dad has been dating Sophia for how long?"

"...Two weeks."

"Right, that doesn't mean that they'll get married. Plenty of people date and don't get married." Merlin's mind backtracked, two weeks? He was going to think about that later. Maybe that explained the cologne Arthur started to wear. He rang the bell.

Morgana met them at the door, her hair in a thick braid and this was the first time that Merlin had seen her in normal, casual clothing. She wore a t-shirt splattered with paint and jeans. But she still managed to look beautiful. Perhaps that was a Pendragon curse--drunk, messed up, or whatnot, they still managed to look great. "Hey, Alex, Merlin." She greeted them with a smile, "I was trying to finish up a piece, don't mind the mess."

"Aunt Morgana is the next Picasso." Alex told Merlin as he slipped off his shoes.

"Am not, Alex." But Morgana took to ruffling the boy's hair, "...Don't mind him, I"m very small time. This is my first commission in a while."

"I'm sure you're great." Merlin assured her.

She told them both to sit in the dining room for a minute while she went off to wash her hands. Alex swung in the chair next to Merlin's, "Aunt Morgana will tell you that Sophia is a skank." He said seriously, "Ask her."

Merlin picked idly at a napkin. He had to wonder if it was Morgana who started this whole fiasco in the first place. After all, it made sense, Alex seemed to adore his aunt. Admittedly, Merlin had yet to puzzle out the dynamics between father and son.

"Ask me what?" Morgana breezed back into the kitchen and went to the fridge, "Alex, I have a cherry cheesecake and a pecan pie today. Which one would you like?"

Apparently, Alex was feeling charitable today. He turned to Merlin, "What would you like?"

"A cherry cheesecake sounds fine. I guess, thanks." Merlin went back to knotting the napkin between his fingers.

So Arthur gave in.

So he sort of felt like a sellout. But besides that, the productivity at CamSoft had noticeably gone down ever since he and Sophia Tirmore went official. However, it seemed as if everyone was happier for it...and Arthur wasn't sure what to think. They'd practically given them a party (with the banner overhead crowing gleefully: Well! Fucking Finally!') and it was the single most embarrassing moment in his life to date.

But he wondered why he had done it. Yes, maybe he was an alcoholic and it was somewhat affecting his judgment by this point. Or maybe the episodes of almost sex. He'd been out of the dating scene too long, he supposed.

And it was just.

Weird.

Arthur couldn't even say that he liked it. But he supposed this was what college girls did with their boyfriends. Even if the said boyfriend was thirty and an almost alcoholic. And not exactly nice. Arthur really didn't think of himself as a nice person. And...hell, it was really hard to think when--

Having Sophia Tirmore grind him in his computer chair was...not a good idea. The chair was expensive, and the chair was in his office and the walls really weren't as soundproof as she'd like to believe. He was an adult, he could handle this.

"Sophia, stop."

She did, pulling back ever so slightly, but not enough for him not to notice how her breasts were pressing into him. And for some reason, it was gross. "Don't you like what I'm doing?"

Maybe after a couple of drinks, he'd reconsider. Arthur suddenly felt claustrophobic. "I have work to do."

"Arthur--"

"Get out."

Sophia glared at him, and slid off of his lap to fetch her shoes. She bent over a little bit more than necessary and Arthur averted his eyes. He was really not the type of person to date and dump a woman in just under two weeks (even though his college experience might have labeled him as such.) But who knew? Sophia Tirmore was a bimbo and just might set a precedent.

There was a knock.

"Who is it?"

"It's Kaye."

Arthur hastily tugged his tie straight and sat up a little bit in his chair. "Come in."

Kaye let himself in, and when he saw Arthur's somewhat disheveled appearance, he had the propriety to just raise his eyebrows. "I come bearing good news. I trust you're in need of some, kiddo?" Still, the older man's voice was decidedly mocking. Well, at least he didn't just come right out and say that Arthur looked like a lost hurricane.

"You read my mind." Arthur did not like being called 'kiddo.'

"So like you said." Kaye took the chair opposite of Arthur's desk, "I didn't put out a list yet, but I did make a few calls and compiled this for you." So saying, he slid a packet across to Arthur, "To date, this is a list of potential inverters that would buy CamSoft stock if we listed."

Arthur was impressed, so impressed that he was even willing to put the Sophia fiasco in the back of his mind for a little while. The list was long, five pages stapled together, and the figures blew his mind, and Arthur Pendragon liked to think he was a wealthy man. Most of the names he recognized, Arthur was almost giddy.

"With this, loans won't be a problem. We might even be out of debt by Christmas."

Arthur frowned at a name at the bottom of the list, "I'll list, as long as you promise that you won't let things get out of hand." But if there was anyone Arthur could trust, it was Kaye.

Kaye only hesitated a moment, "Deal. Sign here."

Arthur glanced it over, seemed to be some kind of release form. He signed. The day was suddenly looking up.

"Well, she is." Was Morgana's too calm reply to Alex's "Dad's dating a skank." "But Alex, where'd you learn that word? I"m guessing Merlin didn't teach it to you." She looked at him.

Merlin felt naked, and small. "...Yeah, but I'm indirectly guilty, my little brother let it slip."

Morgana's gaze softened, "...Little brothers seem to be all the same, don't they?"

Merlin picked at his cheesecake. Out of loyalty for Arthur, he was about to say that he and Mordred were in no way alike. But...it wasn't as if Arthur had always been like this. Merlin was sure there had been happier times for Arthur, he just couldn't see any. Arthur was doing a great job of not being happy.

"Arthur...he's nothing like my brother. Mordred's sort of a nut."

"Yes, but so was Arthur, back in his day." Morgana told him, taking a sip of her tea, "You have no idea." She put down her cup and leaned her elbows on the table, "Look, this might sound cruel. But in some ways, I'm glad that those things happened to Arthur. He was born and raised thinking that whatever mess he got into, money would get him out, the Pendragon name would get him out."

"What does this have to do with Sophia Tirmore?" Merlin asked faintly.

"She's what Arthur used to be. Of course he would be completely taken by her..." Morgana pursed her lips, "Trust me, if he continues to see her, CamSoft will be underwater by New Year's." And then she smiled, "I supposed that can't be helped, can it? Arthur has always had a weakness for women. Even if they are...not so honorable."

Well, that part of Arthur seemed like Mordred. But Merlin had never seen him with a woman. "That bad?"

"That bad." Alex confirmed, sucking on a cherry, "Do you know what we did last Sunday?"

"The Sunday you went to the zoo?"

"No," Alex shook his head, "The Sunday after that. The zoo was actually really fun. You should go next time, Dad bought me a balloon. But anyways. That's not the point." The boy shook his head impatiently, "The Sunday after that, last Sunday. She came with us." He grimaced.

"And where'd you go?"

"My school festival. We host one every year. My class had a puppet show." Alex momentarily brightened, "It was really fun. But she had to kiss me afterwards. And she got her lipstick all over me." He shuddered, as if saying the words made him relive the memory all over again. "And then, she sprained her ankle and Dad had to carry her all the way back to the car." He crossed his arms with a pout, "She didn't even sprain her ankle."

Certainly sounded like an exciting date. Merlin was about to open his mouth to say as much, and then his phone beeped.

Speaking of the devil:

Arthur Pendragon.

Merlin flipped open his phone and held it to his ear, "...Hey, Arthur." This was becoming routine, it was probably, 'Sorry Merlin, I"m going to go hole up with my new girlfriend in a hotel room, look after my kid, would you?' And then he shook the thought from his mind. The Arthur he knew would not do that. Morgana Le Fay was a terrifying woman.

"Merlin, just wondering, are you busy tonight?"

Merlin bit his lip, "What, do you want me to stay with Alex again?"

Morgana was burning holes through his cell phone. It made Merlin uncomfortable so he got up to pace around the dining room table.

"No. Nothing like that. Where are you right now?"

"Morgana's."

"My sister, Morgana?" Arthur's voice got noticeably tight, "Why are you even over there?"

Merlin was under the impression that Arthur Pendragon didn't scare easy. Maybe he was wrong, "She's nice Alex wanted to see her." He supplied, trying not to flinch, "If you don't need me to stay with Alex, what do you need then? I know you'll be late."

"She's listening to you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, don't say that if she's listening." Arthur's voice lowered to a whisper. "Do you want to stay for dinner tonight? I'd like you to meet Sophia, my girlfriend."

Oh. Well. Merlin was at a loss. He was only an au pair, after all, and not anyone terribly important. Although he liked to consider himself as Arthur's friend, but he didn't know if his employer would agree. But unless Arthur had somewhat of a decent opinion of him, there was no reason for Merlin to meet Sophia. Granted, after what Alex and Morgana had told him, he asked himself whether or not he wanted to meet this Sophia. But the fact that Arthur had thought so much of him, made him happy.

It was a little bit silly.

Unless. "Arthur." Merlin said carefully, "...Are we going out to dinner, or do you want me to stay so I could cook you something?" And then leave after that? Morgana's eyes turned especially venomous, Merlin winced and looked away.

"...If Morgana heard you say that, she's going to think I'm taking advantage of you."

"I really don't mind cooking for you." Merlin said, "I mean, you probably don't eat healthy anyway."

That coaxed a smile from Morgana.

"You. Are having too much fun broadcasting to my sister." Arthur grumbled. "Fine, cook if you want. Sophia's picky though. See you at six-thirty."

"Six-thirty." Merlin echoed and hung up.

For some reason, cooking for his employer and his employer's girlfriend made him feel giddy. Not a normal reaction. But Merlin would think about that later. For now, he'd pacify Morgana, "...Look, I just thought it would be bad for him to eat out so much."

Morgana's lips twitched, "You are really spoiling him. If I didn't think you were an eternal optimist, I'd say you liked my brother."

...

And that was when Merlin knew it was time to leave. He hated it, people saying that he liked Arthur Pendragon. Because he didn't. But that didn't mean he could not change his mind. And he already knew that when Morgana wanted you to think a certain way. You did. No questions asked. He didn't even want to start to dwell on the fact that Alex looked extremely pleased at the fact that Merlin might like Arthur.

"I don't see why we can't just go to that restaurant." Sophia said, as she buckled herself in. "You've been wanting to go, aren't you?"

Arthur was getting more and more used to it. When her hand settled on his knee, he only flinched a little. "...Merlin said he'd cook for us. I haven't seen Alex all day."

His son had always been Alexander. Arthur didn't really see the merit if calling his son by a name he wasn't given. But then, that might have been because Arthur grew being Arthur, and not 'Art' or something like that. Clearly, Merlin was rubbing off on him, and he glanced over to see if Sophia had noticed his slip of tongue. He was somewhat relieved and horrified at the same time to find that apparently, Sophia was very, very distracted by his knee.

After a while, Sophia said, "So...Merlin's like an all-purpose boy now?"

Arthur didn't really like her tone. Or, he hated her tone, and the obvious implication that Merlin was some sort of a machine. Although he wasn't quite sure where this streak of protectiveness came from, "...It's not like that." Perhaps to satisfy himself, Arthur added, "You're making me sound so heartless, Sophia."

She laughed at him, silky sweet, almost like poison. "You're so silly."

Arthur Pendragon was a lot of things. But silly was not one of them.

"Why'd you say yes?" Alex swung his legs impatiently, "She's coming over, I don't want her to come over."

Merlin sighed and looked up from the almonds he was crushing with a spoon, "If I didn't say yes, Arthur probably would have taken her out to dinner and brought you along." He reasoned, "...And I'm not going to be there to rescue you." Besides, Merlin was curious about Arthur's girlfriend. The Arthur he had come to know was (somewhat) responsible and (mostly) reasonable. He felt it kind of impossible, that Arthur would dance along to the tune of a skank.

"Oh. Good point." Alex peered over, "What are you making?"

"Almond pudding. It's for dessert."

"Yummy." Alex licked his lips, "Can I help?"

"Sure." Merlin handed him the spoon, "You can just smash these up for me."

A couple of hours later, Merlin was staring at the oven, waiting for the stuffed chicken to be done. He found it hilarious that Mordred crowned him a mother hen, because Mordred's frequent phone calls were beginning to seem a little motherly. "Yeah?" Alex had gotten bored with the almonds and Merlin had sent him upstairs to watch television.

"So...what's the story this time?"

Merlin rolled his eyes, "...I'm just staying for dinner, coming home in a little while. Arthur's girlfriend is coming."

There was a brief silence.

Then Mordred cleared his throat, "...That sounds really wrong."

Merlin couldn't resist another eye roll. "Just because I said 'coming'? You're a sick, twisted bastard."

"Thanks. I feel loved."

"You should." Merlin scoffed. "Seriously."

Mordred drew in a deep breath, "Seriously, you're sounding like Arthur Pendragon's wife. Which is...really disturbing on all counts."

Yeah, it was disturbing to Merlin too, but only because all that had spawned in Mordred's head. "...You should seriously lay off all those stupid reality shows. I can feel your IQ points dropping over the phone. I'm not Arthur's wife."

"Precisely my point." Mordred said, "So why you're bending over for him, I have no idea."

"Just because I'm doing someone a favor does not mean I'm bending over." Mordred was either some kind of genius idiot or an idiot genius. He did 't know which one it was, but the fact that his younger brother (still in his teens!) could relate everything to the context of sex...actually, it was pretty amazing. He was about to say so when the timer beeped.

"Mordred, we'll talk about getting you to a doctor when I get home. For now, I have to go. See you later."

"I so do not need to see a doctor."

"...Yes, you do." Merlin searched the drawer for an oven mitt, but then, even before looking, he supposed it was quite logical for Arthur Pendragon, who never used his kitchen, to not own an oven mitt. In the end, he improvised with a dishtowel. "Your mind seems permanently ODed on sex, and as your big brother, I worry about you."

"Whatever." Mordred hung up.

Sophia Tirmore made Merlin...uneasy.

In Merlin's professional opinion, Sophia Tirmore was too young for Arthur. She seemed very much in love with Arthur but when it came down to it, Sophia Tirmore was a bimbo. The last kind of woman that he had thought Arthur would go for, but well, there was that ever dependable 'opposites attract' factor? After all, if Arthur was allergic to women with strong opinions like Morgana, it was perfectly understandable why Arthur would run to the other end of the spectrum and pick a significant other who was obviously not a threat to his intelligence.

She was also a little...possessive, Merlin doubted her hand left Arthur's knee once under the table. And he had to wonder if it was appropriate for Alex to be watching that...but then he remembered that they showed much worse in PG-rated movies.

"So...Merlin, how long have you been working for Arthur?" Sophia asked between dainty bites of chicken.

"...Must have been, oh, I don't know." Merlin gave Arthur a look, and if anything, he thought his employer looked very pained. Hopefully, it wasn't because the food was bad. "How long have I been working for you?"

"Two months," Arthur said, "Give or take."

"Well, I've been working for him over a year now." Sophia told him, a little too proudly, Merlin thought. Being Arthur's secretary was probably a terrible job; but Sophia was too smitten to see it that way. "Since my sophomore year in college."

College. The conversation was quickly grinding to a halt--you'd think Arthur would contribute? since they were dating, but he was too busy distracting himself with the food. Alex looked every bit as sober as his father. Merlin sighed and picked that up, "You're still in college?"

"Yes, I study fashion design." She nodded, "I'm hoping to land an internship in Madrid this summer. Still trying to convince Arthur to come with me."

"Oh."

"I don't know, I can't make up my mind between Madrid or Venice."

Arthur looked even more pained, and Alex stabbed listless at his chicken.

Right. Something was fully dysfunctional here, but he couldn't quite tell what, exactly.

Merlin wondered what working at CamSoft did for somebody doing a major in fashion design. That was anyone's guess. Or perhaps she just wanted a chance to ogle Arthur Pendragon. "Well." He said, voice purposely bright as he rose from the table. "That sounds great. Good luck with that. I'm going to get dessert. Alex, would you like to help me?"

The boy scrambled from his chair. "I helped with dessert, Dad!"

That coaxed Arthur from looking pained to looking pleased, "Really?" He sifted an affectionate hand through his son's hair, "I can't wait to eat it."

Merlin followed Alex into the kitchen and wondered why Sophia hadn't told Arthur to take off his wedding ring.

Arthur regretted bringing Sophia home. Because having a normal conversation with her was like pulling teeth, and he was surprised that Merlin handled it so well. But guessing from the people Merlin lived with, he supposed that his au pair would have plenty of practice in the field. He was a little bit ticked at Merlin for rescuing Alex instead of him, though.

Sophia smiled at him and squeezed his knee. Arthur could practically feel the arthritis setting in, "Merlin's a talented cook. The food's great."

"Yeah, he is." Arthur said distractedly.

"He and Alexander seem really close." Sophia continued.

"They are." Arthur supplied unhelpfully, and wished that Merlin and Alex would hurry up.

The pair of them emerged a moment later, Merlin carried three bowls while Alex carried one. Arthur guessed that Merlin had been a busboy sometime in his employment history.

"Here, Dad." Alex said solemnly, setting a spoon in front of Arthur along with the bowl, "Merlin made most of it." He said modestly, "I just helped a little."

Merlin said, "Alex helped a lot."

Alex's face promptly flushed from the compliment and just stared happily at his pudding. Arthur...couldn't help but feel that the night wasn't a complete waste. He made a show of sampling the pudding and found it great. It wasn't hard to act.

"Did you crush the almonds, Alex?"

Alex looked surprised and gratified at the same time. "...Yeah."

"It really adds to the flavor of the pudding." Not that Arthur was much of a food critic. He felt silly saying something straight out of a corny children's movie, but Merlin made it perfectly worthwhile by simply beaming at him across the table.

"Shouldn't you be entertaining your girlfriend?" Merlin asked.

Arthur reached for a clean plate and a dishtowel, "Stop that, you're enjoying this way too much." He stood close enough to Merlin so he could feel the trembling of his shoulders, as if he was trying not to laugh. "There's nothing funny about this. She said she had to make some calls." And Alex had escaped upstairs to the solace of a Disney movie.

"I don't think there's anything funny about you looking very constipated during dinner." Merlin managed with a straight face, "Made me think my food was bad."

"...Shut up."

Arthur grabbed the next plate, and Merlin just had the gall to grin at him. "Loosen up, boss, you're so uptight." He turned off the faucet, "I can't see how she puts up with you."

...Merlin really knew how to slap people across the face. Arthur said nothing for a moment.

"I don't think I'm that uptight around you." He said finally, "I'm only uptight around people who make me nervous."

The look on Merlin's face was a slightly bemused one. "I wasn't aware that there were people that could make Arthur Pendragon nervous. Why are you dating a woman that makes you nervous?"

For that, Arthur had no answer.

In the end, Arthur drove him home still. Sophia was chattering away on her phone to some Margaret person, and Merlin accepted only because he didn't feel up to taking the bus.

"What did you really think about her?"

Merlin looked away from the window. He had no idea why Arthur was even asking him the question. As if he was seeking permission. Merlin took in a deep breath, "...I didn't think you go for someone like that. In all honesty. I thought...I thought she'd be more, uh." There was no way to make his opinion any less snide, "...more of an intellectual And uh, her preoccupation with your knee.."

"Yeah, so did I." Arthur scoffed, "...Her father was a professor at Princeton a few years back before he turned completely senile. I don't want to talk about my knee."

"Maybe it works in reverse," Merlin suggested, "She's senile now, and when she's an old grandma, she'll be like Einstein or something. Only, you probably won't be around to appreciate it."

Arthur was laughing. It was the first time that Merlin had seen him laugh so hard. His hands were practically shaking on the wheel.

"...Was it...that funny?"

"It's the funniest thing I've heard all day." Arthur looked over at him.

"I wasn't even trying to be funny." Merlin mused, "You have a strange of humor." When Arthur pulled up on the curb, Merlin unbuckled seat belt. More by instinct than anything, he laid a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Good night and good luck."

"With what?"

"Sophia." Merlin's face said, 'duh.'

"Oh." Arthur shrugged, "I'll probably just drive her home too. But I might have to go hunting for some earplugs before I do that."

And that, for inexplicable reason, was the funniest thing that Merlin had heard all day.

</div>

Destined (1/1)

raspberry_pop — Thu, 28 May 2009 07:11:03 GMT

Title: Destined
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Genre: weird (that should totally be a genre)/AUish/future!fic
Rating: R
Words: 2788
Progress: 1/1 (Complete)
Warning: Stalker!Merlin...-_-;; yup.
Summary: AJ Pendragon's real name is Arthur Jaromir Pendragon. But one calls him Arthur, except for his old man, and that one weird guy. Marlin, Merlin, whatever his name is. "Your name is Arthur Pendragon and you're destined to be with me."
Note: I have no idea where this came from. It's me taking a break from my exams, written in the wee hours of the morning. So...yeah. It's just weird. Stalker!Merlin just wouldn't leave me alone! See? I told you he was a stalker...

AJ Pendragon is having a shitty day. It's really shitty. First off, he conveniently forgets that his flatmate Percy has asked to borrow the car so he can impress a girl. AJ Pendragon has no girl, at least, not now, so out of goodwill he lets Percy borrow his car. So AJ has to go ride the bus like any other starving college student. He feels out of place at the bus stop, and no one has told him that it was going to rain today.

And goddamnit, It's cold. And the bus is late. And AJ's out here by the bus stop all by his lonesome. He wants to kill something, anything.

Then he has to meet that guy, and his life goes straight down a spiral to hell.

The guy looks nice enough at first, there's nothing really special about him. He's carrying two cups of hot Starbuck's coffee, and AJ really wants one. The guy is pale. Like he's never been outside, ever. The guy also has a coat and a scarf, and AJ wants those too.

"Aren't you cold?"

Well, way to be observant, wise guy. AJ crosses his arms, "Well, obviously."

"Do you want some coffee?"

Do I! But AJ remembers that this guy is a complete stranger. "It's okay."

"Seriously. It's fine. The girl messed up my drink, so I got a free one." The guy holds out a cup, steaming and inviting, "Take it."

AJ relents. He finds that he is holding a cup of Caramel Cappuccino, the best thing ever, since sliced bread.

Before he can turn and thank the guy, the guy is gone.

The next time he meets the guy again, he's in the library, having yet another shitty day. His research paper is due in less than sixteen hours, and AJ really doesn't want to sift through twenty books to find what he needs.

"If you'd like, you can use these. You're researching the Spanish War, aren't you?"

It's that guy. From the bus stop.

This time though, the guy is wearing a t-shirt, and tight jeans that AJ can sort of appreciate. He's holding books with multi-colored post-it notes stuck to the pages. Yes, AJ is researching the Spanish War for a stupid history class he doesn't need. But this is starting to get a wee bit creepy. "...Yeah."

"I just handed in a thesis for the same thing. Here."

AJ stares after him, dumbfounded. He goes home that night and realizes that the guy has categorized the information by colored post-it notes. It takes him only an hour to finish and he even has time to watch football with Percy and his new girlfriend.

The third time he meets the guy. AJ is drunk--not roaring drunk, but certainly gone enough to make bad decisions. His frat has reserved the Student Union for the night, and even though alcohol is not allowed, The Higher Powers that be serve it anyway. He sees the guy sitting at a table by himself, reading a book. No one reads at a book at a frat party. He pokes Percy.

"Who the hell is that?"

"I think his name is Marlin."

"...Like from Finding Nemo?"

"...I guess."

"Why's he here?"

"He's a honorary member. Go ask Gary."

Gary (Gawaine to adults, Gaw-Gaw to his insufferable girlfriend) is clear acros the room. Marlin's table is so much closer. So AJ drags himself over.

"Hey."

"Hello, Arthur."

AJ winces. His real name is Arthur Jaromir Pendragon, but no one calls him that except his old man...whom he hasn't spoken to for a year. Going by his initials is so much easier.

"My name is AJ."

"No it isn't." The guy--Marlin, looks up from his book, "Your name is Arthur."

"Your name is Marlin."

"Merlin."

"Whatever." AJ, for whatever reason, decides it's a good idea lean across the table and stare at Marlin, or Merlin or whatever really close.

"Your name is Arthur Pendragon, you're destined to be with me."

Merlin leans in two inches and kisses him. It's wet and it's sloppy and it feels good.

But the next day, it's all over the entire campus that AJ is...you know, gay with Merlin. Marlin. But he can't even remember anything after the kiss and he is pretty sure he ends up leaving with Percy and his girlfriend.

"Yeah...you left with me and Izzy." Percy says, between bites of hot dog and gulps of coke, "But man, why'd you let him do that?"

At least Percy believes in him. "...I dunno. I was drunk."

"Not that drunk."

AJ purses his lips. "Fuck, I don't know." He glances down at the thick text book in his lap, "Don't bug me about that now, I've got to memorize this entire chapter in the next five minutes."

And Merlin chooses that opportune moment to walk up to AJ's table and drop off a study guide. It's three pages of bullet points that take thirty seconds to remember. Merlin just smiles at him. Walks away.

Creep.

"...What the hell?" Says Percy.

AJ is really getting tired of this. "Don't even ask."

He aces the test.

AJ does some more investigating on this Merlin. He finds that Merlin is Merlin Emrys, he's a sophomore, and staying at Ealdor Hall. Room 35. He knocks on the door and Merlin opens it with a wide smile.

"Arthur, how nice to see you. Come in."

"No." AJ says, "For the last time, don't call me that. No one calls me that."

"Except for me."

"I hate Arthur." AJ says petulantly.

"But it's your name."

"Trust me, if your name was Arthur Jaromir, you'd want to be AJ." AJ says, feeling very annoyed and slightly freaked out. "What the fuck are you doing and why are you doing this to me?"

Merlin just looks at him, his smile slips a little. "You really don't remember."

"Well, obviously." AJ crosses his arms, "I don't even know you. You might have a little love affair with me or whatever in your head. But please just keep it in your head."

"But you do know me." Merlin reaches out, touches him. "Arthur Pendragon always knows me."

Um. AJ doesn't know if there are other Arthur Pendragons running around, but he is sure as hell that he doesn't know Merlin. Doesn't want to either. "Look," Maybe Merlin's one of those idiots who got what they wanted by just being plain creepy. "Is this whole charade going on just so you can get me to fuck you? Cause, you know, I'll do it once if you promise not to tell the whole campus."

"You don't get it." Merlin takes his hand away, "This isn't about fucking."

"Oh, it's not? Enlighten me, Sherlock."

"I'm in love with you. It's my destiny to be in love with you. Even though in some lives you don't love me." Merlin's smile is a sad one now, "But you and I, we're still destined, you belong to me."

AJ can't take this. He won't take this, he doesn't have to take this. He doesn't understand how Merlin's declaration of 'love' can make his blood rise. He doesn't want to hear Merlin go on about strange things like destinies and lives. So he presses Merlin against the wall and shoves his knee between the other guy's legs.

"I belong to no one. Not you. Not anyone." AJ bites at Merlin's earlobes, not bothering to be gentle. "Shut up."

"Arthur, please..." Merlin for the first time since AJ's known him, sounds beautifully helpless, "Not like this...I don't want it like this."

AJ's vision is blurry, but Merlin's nails are digging into his back. "Don't you want me?"

"Not like this..."

AJ steps back. His head hurts, a part of him registers that from their little tryst, Merlin is hard. Hard for AJ.

"Tomorrow, I'm filing a restraining order against you." AJ says, and he hates it that his voice isn't completely steady. "Stay away from me."

After going to court, AJ feels a lot better. The judge serves Merlin his restraining order, and makes him promise that he will not come within two hundred feet of AJ Pendragon. If he breaks it, Merlin will be fined, and AJ feels secure. Merlin can't afford to break the order, it's not like he has the money to pay the fines.

AJ also thinks that Merlin Emrys looks very put together in a gray suit complete with a black tie, but promptly slaps himself.

He doesn't tell Percy, but AJ is freaked out when a box of dark chocolates arrive on his doorstep, along with research notes for the paper due next week on Latin Culture. Creepy as hell.

And Thursday, when AJ is planning a big date with Catherine, he realizes that he doesn't have any condoms.

He opens the door and finds a box of fruit-flavored condoms and a bottle of lotion.

It gets creepier.

And when he's drunk and sore the next morning, in a strange bed in a hotel room, AJ is shocked to find a maid standing outside his door at seven in the morning, holding out a bottle of painkillers and a box of a half dozen donuts smeared with raspberry jam.

"A nice boy dropped them off." She says.

AJ spots Merlin at a table by himself in the library, with nothing but a pile of books and a cup of coffee keeping him company. Seriously, doesn't Merlin have any friends? Well, maybe not, since he was so freaking creepy. After a moment's hesitation, AJ stalks over to Merlin's table and jerks the book that Merlin is reading out of his hands.

Merlin is at once surprised, and pleased. "...Arthur, you're going to break the restraining order." He says calmly, "Give me back my book."

"It doesn't count if I approach you." AJ snaps, he flips through the book that Merlin's reading. It's actually one of the books on Arthur's very long Russian Lit class that he hasn't read yet. "What part of 'stay two hundred feet away from me' don't you understand?"

"I have been staying away from you." Merlin blinks at him as he reaches for his coffee.

"You--"

Merlin stands up, "Here." He thrusts a pile of papers into AJ's hands, "The notes for your Russian Lit class. If you'll excuse me." He walks away.

"Wait, Merlin--"

Merlin turns. "Yes, Arthur?"

"I...uh." AJ is struck by this really weird impulse to thank him. But hell, people being stalked do not thank their stalkers. He is determined to keep to that, "...Never mind."

AJ goes to bed dreaming about Catherine's tits. He knows something is wrong, however, when those dreams take a drastic turn and he dreams about Merlin. Merlin naked in his doorway, stroking himself while he watches AJ's eyes. Merlin moaning breathlessly beneath him. Arthur, oh Arthur.

AJ almost doesn't hate his name now. Merlin's bare legs press urgently against the small of AJ's back.

Please, please, please...I'm so close.

AJ follows, like a sheep to slaughter. He jerks his hips hard. His mouth finds Merlin's and kisses him, swallowing sobs of joy.

--And then AJ wakes up.

He wakes up absolutely horrified to find his sheets wet with come, and Merlin standing quietly by his bed. Dressed. But the fact of the matter is, that Merlin is there by his bed...and after the dream he just woke up from, AJ is not sure what to think. He finally decides on the obvious.

"Merlin, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"You called me."

"I did not!" AJ bunches the sheets up to hide himself as much as possible. For the first time in his life, he feels helpless.

"You had a dream."

AJ shivers. "So?"

"It was...about me, wasn't it?" Merlin's fingers dance gleefully over the stained sheets.

AJ suddenly doesn't remember how to breathe.

"You're starting to remember, Arthur."

"...I have no idea what you're talking about." Just hearing Arthur like that, makes AJ want to come all over again. It doesn't make any sense.

Merlin strokes his face, fingers slightly damp. "Please remember. Remember me, Arthur. Arthur. Arthur."

"Stop saying my name like that." Because if Merlin keeps going, than AJ can't--he'll want to press Merlin into the mattress and do unspeakable things.Unthinkable things.

Merlin crawls up his naked body like a cat. "Please."

Fuck it. Fuck it to hell. AJ grabs the back of Merlin's head and kisses him so hard that he draws blood.

There is a flash of brilliant gold.

Arthur remembers.

"It doesn't seem fair."

Arthur mumbles into the warm crook of Merlin's neck.

"...Of course it isn't." Merlin placidly wounds a strand of gold hair around his fingers.

"Why do you sound so calm about this?"

"Because great kings live, again, and again. And it is my destiny to follow you."

"Hey, AJ!"

It's Percy's voice on the other side of that door, and Arthur can't bring himself to care. Merlin's stirs quietly beside him, and Arthur wraps his arms tighter around him. "Stay, it's all right."

"Fucking AJ, you're going to be late for lecture!"

Merlin snuggles next to him, "...You've got a dependable alarm clock."

"Yeah, shame that Percy has no off button." Arthur grazes his lips against Merlin's forehead. "He'll go away after a while." To Percy, he yells out, "Not going to lecture today!"

"Professor Wilson's a bitch about attendance, remember?"

("With a built-in conscience." Merlin remarks.)

("Shut up, Merlin.")

"Like I give a shit."

"I need your car today. Coming in."

"Fine." Arthur gropes for his keys and he is all poised to throw them at Percy when he realizes that he and Merlin are still very much naked in bed together.

Percy's jaw practically shatters.

"Oh. Um. What the fuck?" His friend immediately drops his gaze, "Totally did not need to see that first thing in the morning..."

Arthur throws the keys at him, "Just get out."

"No matter how many lives you get through, you're still a royal prat." Merlin says later, when they are both dressed. Sort of. Arthur has his boxers half on and Merlin is wearing Arthur's t-shirt.

"And after so many lives, you're still an insufferable idiot." Arthur shoots back, as he tosses Merlin a can of beer.

"Guilty as charged." Merlin's grin is so wide that Arthur thinks that his face could split. He raises the can, "To the rest of our lives."

Cliche. But true. Arthur drinks to that, and knows that it's just going to be pretty fucking fantastic.

A Fortunate Fall (4/18)

raspberry_pop — Tue, 26 May 2009 04:30:45 GMT

banner made by toodelicious Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 5176
Progress: 4/18 (if everything goes according to plan...prev. 1/20, but outline was revised)
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: This might be the last fast update for a while, since exams are starting for me (read: haven't been studying -_-;;). I'll still try to post at least once a week. Thanks so much to everyone who read and commented, I love you all!

1/18:raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/871.html#cutid1
2/18:raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/1393.html
3/18:raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/1632.html#cutid1

"And so, the Prince and Princess lived happily ever after." Merlin closed the book with a smile. "I'm guessing the evil witch died a ghastly death, but since this is supposed to be a children's book, they can't write that."

Alex grinned at him, "...That was a good story. I actually understood all of it."

Merlin moved back to lay on the air mattress. "Well...it's a little bit too much for you to stomach Shakespeare or Dickens. I didn't get to read those until I was in high school." And even then, he took to hating classics with a passion. "It's ten, let's go to sleep now, okay?"

The boy peered down at him, "...Dad will be back in the morning?"

"Yes, Alex."

"And you'll be here?"

"Yes." Merlin reached up to make sure the boy was properly covered, "Do you sleep with a night light?"

"Night lights are for babies." Alex told him, looking quite indignant.

"Sorry." Merlin smiled at him, "Good night, Alex, go to sleep."

It felt weird to sleep in Arthur's clothes, but Merlin turned off the light and lay back down. He was half expecting Alex to speak again; it was a common trick for kids his age when they didn't want to go to sleep. But Alex didn't say anything and Merlin drifted off.

"Hey Merlin?"

Merlin groaned into a strange mattress. Strange, because it was much, much too comfortable. "What?"

"Could you, uh, go get me some water? The pizza makes me thirsty."

With some effort, Merlin rolled over, "...Alex?" He blinked, and then remembered: he was at the Pendragon house, staying with Alex because Arthur's code got wiped and he had to pull an all-nighter. And then he wondered why he remembered all that. Merlin did not want to get out of bed...but Alex wanted water, so...

"Yeah, hold on, I'll get it for you." Merlin's watch read 2:56 am. It took him a couple of tries to roll off the mattress willingly, but at least he got up.

There was something to be said about Arthur Pendragon, and the ungodly hour of 3 am. They didn't work well together, particularly when Arthur Pendragon was also partially inebriated. But that was an advantage when he was driving at this time of the night. And he wasn't really drunk, just partially. In fact, Arthur felt like he had just had a large Irish coffee and still, he was tired and dead on his feet. It was an odd feeling. (Although he didn't really have an Irish coffee.)

He somehow managed to stumble to the couch--upstairs seemed very far away and impossible. Arthur closed his eyes, his eyelids were heavy. It was decidedly uncomfortable to try to sleep in a suit, but Arthur had done that on airplanes, back when traveling was a leisure. Everything was heavy.

Before he faded completely, Arthur thought he heard running water. "...Alexander?" He called out, because it was the first name he could think of.

A figure walked into the living room, the shadow was too tall to be Alex. The figure was wearing some of his old clothes. Arthur blinked and closed his eyes; it was too much of an effort to keep them open.

"Merlin." Merlin said, "I was getting Alex some water. Did you just get back?"

"You could get me some water." Arthur held out a hand for the cup that Merlin held. "Yes, I did."

Merlin handed him the cup without hesitation. "Did you finish coding?"

Arthur gulped the water thirstily. It was probably unsightly, but he didn't give half a shit. Liquor made people unreasonable and sometimes, Arthur Pendragon was entitled to be one of those pople. "Yeah." He reached out blindly and gripped a handful of Merlin's--his own t-shirt. "This is mine."

Merlin's face was blurry. "Alex said I could wear it. I took a shower."

And then Merlin's face wasn't blurry at all. He was peering intently at Arthur's face, Arthur thought he smelled pizza, and Merlin had a freckle below his eye. "What?"

"Arthur." Merlin stepped back and out of his grasp, "You're drunk."

"Yeah, so?"

And goddamnit, why did Merlin look like he wanted to cry? Arthur sat up a little, head still lolling to the side. "I'm only a little bit drunk...the caffeine pills you gave me didn't work."

"Sorry." Merlin turned.

"Are you just leaving me?"

"No." The footsteps paused, "I'm going to go upstairs, get Alex his water, and I'll come back down and help you."

"Do what?"

"Get to bed, obviously."

Merlin was gone, leaving Arthur to his half-thoughts. As he sat there on the couch, he tried to think of something useful, but couldn't really. At last, he settled on counting the ticks of the clock. He got to eighty-three, or maybe eighty, when he heard Merlin's voice again.

"Here, get up."

Arthur half glared at him as he (tried to) get up, "I am your boss."

"Please get up, sir." Merlin corrected himself; he put one arm under Arthur's armpit and hauled him none too gently in the general direction of the stairs.

Arthur found himself stumbling along, "You've...done this before."

"I'm a college student." Merlin didn't sound amused.

Ah. That's right. Merlin was a college student, Arthur had gone through college in a frat, he knew how that was. When he felt like he was teetering, he grabbed onto Merlin's other arm. It was too much of an effort to speak and walk up the stairs at the same time. Somehow, they made it up the stairs, with Arthur not quite helping his own cause. He practically collapsed when they reached the top...and Merlin manuevered himself just in time so he didn't fall on top of him.

And then they just lay there.

"...I'm an alcoholic." Arthur announced after a brief pause for no good reason.

"Probably." Merlin said.

"You aren't supposed to agree with me."

Merlin glanced at him. His face was still blurry, but Arthur thought he was frowning, "What else am I supposed to think, Arthur? When I see you, you're either hungover, drunk, or you want a drink."

"...My father drank." As if that was an excuse.

And Arthur felt odd, because this was the first time he voluntarily mentioned his father as far as he could remember. How strange, how illogical that he should mention it to Merlin Emrys, a boy he met in a convenience store-turned au pair at the disastrous hour of three in the morning? Perhaps that added nicely to the disastrous theme...a nice, decorative touch.

Merlin seemed surprised as well by this confession. "...And? Did drinking take him anywhere worthwhile?"

"How the hell should I know? He's loaded."

"So are you, it must run in the family."

Arthur realized somewhat hazily that Merlin was closer than he thought, and he reached out and hit him halfheartedly on the arm.

"Ow." Although from Merlin's monotone, it probably didn't hurt much. "What was that?"

"Stop making fun of me."

Merlin was getting up, Arthur blindly grappled at him, until he found Merlin's hand. Getting on his feet had never been so difficult, he dragged Merlin down on his knees before Arthur actually got up. "I'm not making fun of you. I'm serious."

They made it to Arthur's bedroom without much fuss. Arthur threw himself onto the bed, and Merlin left him there without saying good night. How rude.

Merlin woke early by habit. His watch read 6:30 and even though his eyelids were unusually heavy, he sat up anyway. It took him a moment, but Alex's quiet snoring made him remember. Merlin fell back against the air mattress and rubbed his eyes. Arthur had come home...drunk (he'd driven that way!) and he had ranted about his father drank.

Well, that made sense, sort of.

After a moment, Merlin tiptoed down to the bathroom to splash water on his face. He'd only gotten four hours of sleep, give or take, and that showed. He always got the most awful bags under his eyes. He was still wearing Arthur's clothes, and wondered how he was going to return them.

But first, he'd check on Arthur.

He'd vaguely remembered leaving the door open, and it was. Arthur was sprawled on his bed in the most undignified way: his blond hair was tousled, shirt untucked, and tie still on. Yet Merlin could not bring himself to laugh. Arthur was awake though, and had blinked at him when he came in.

"My head is killing me."

"Good morning to you too." Merlin looked down at him, "...Isn't that normal?"

"Not for me."

Of course, the rules didn't apply to Arthur Pendragon, the Great. Silly of Merlin to forget, really. But when he looked at Arthur's face, the skin there was flushed and it wasn't from the alcohol. "...Out of curiosity, besides your head, is something else killing you?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

Merlin took three more steps and reached out for Arthur's forehead. It was, as he expected--warm. "Because you have a fever. Maybe you shouldn't go to work today."

Arthur just scoffed, "Who are you? My mother?"

"Well...at this moment, I'm all you've got." Merlin returned blandly and plopped down on the edge of Arthur's bed. "I'm going to take off your tie." Actually, Arthur's getting sick didn't surprise him at all; in fact, his employer's destructive lifestyle practically was begging for a breakdown.

"I've never missed a day of work." Arthur grumbled as he pulled at his collar. Actually, it was also strange that he was grumbling because he always complained about his job. Now, he had a perfectly legitimate excuse.

Merlin laid the tie aside, "...When was the last time you went on a vacation?"

"Alexander and I went camping for Christmas last year."

"That's what? One day. Big deal." Merlin told him with a roll of his eyes, "That doesn't count."

Arthur glared at him, "Hell, I don't know. Must have been my honeymoon then, six years ago. I went to the Matterhorn."

Merlin filed that away. Honeymoon, and still a single pronoun. Interesting. But he knew it was not smart to press too hard. "Point proven. Stay home today, you can spend some quality time with Alex."

"But I'm contagious."

His employer failed at common sense.

"Arthur, you're sick because you're tired. You're not going to infect Alex." But it was nice to see that Arthur was at least concerned for his son's well-being, "And he was really worried about you last night."

"I didn't do it on purpose."

"I know that...but still." Merlin hesitated, "Ask him to tell you about the zoo."

"I thought you were going to tell me."

Merlin heaved a heavy sigh, "There's nothing to tell. I'm never going to have kids." (which was true even before the zoo, but Arthur didn't need to know that.) "It was that bad. May I go?"

"Go, as in have the day off?" Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Go ahead." Arthur said, "...Actually, take Saturday off too. You've done enough. I'll see you next Monday."

All that, was probably "Thank you" and "Sorry" rolled into one in Arthur-speak. Merlin just nodded, "I'll see you."

He returned home by bus and found Mordred and Matthew eating cereal in the living room, which was in more of a mess than usual. They grinned at him, "Hi, Mom!" (Though he had yet to figure out why they were up at such an ungodly hour--well, for them it was ungodly. It was barely eight.)

Merlin was too tired to glare at them. He moved aside a pile of magazines and sank down into an armchair. He was forcibly reminded that Arthur's couch was much more comfortable and clean. "Why are you guys even up?"

"Mordred's up because the kid in him wants to eat cereal and watch Saturday morning cartoons." Matthrew answered with his mouth full as he gestured at the screen, where an old Sonic cartoon was playing. "...I'm up because I want details on the steamy sex."

"...What?"

"Don't lie. I heard you spent the night with Arthur Pendragon."

This was all Mordred's doing, and Merlin could see his brother's shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. He wanted to punch them both. "For the last time, I did not spend the night with Arthur Pendragon." They couldn't be any more mature than this, he was sure. "...I spent the night, at Arthur Pendragon's house, with his kid while he worked." He wondered how he could make it any clearer, "Got it?"

"And then he came home, and he kept you up." Matthew finished gleefully while Mordred practically spat out what he was chewing, "Did you think I couldn't tell? You've got tell-tale bags, Merlin. I bet he's a real bitch about sex, huh?"

Merlin stared at him for a long, long minute. An explanation about how sex wasn't the only reason that made people tired would probably be entirely lost on Matthew and Mordred. He was just going to be the mature one and leave it entirely. They were really getting much too comfortable with using the words 'Arthur Pendragon' and 'sex' in the same sentence. He got up, "I'm going to sleep."

"...There's food in the house." Arthur said, staring blankly at his cupboard. Feeling more or less refreshed post-Tylenol, he had gone to his kitchen cabinets...and was at a loss.

Alex, quite happy about not having to attend school was nibbling a piece of cold pizza from last night's dinner. "Merlin said it was a pain to go out and get stuff to eat all the time. So he just bought food."

"Did he?"

"Yeah."

There was silence. And silences didn't bother Arthur; rather, awkward silences did...and the fact that he was having these silences with his son made it worse. Arthur turned away from the cabinets and took a seat across from Alex. "...So how was the zoo?" It was the first thought that came to mind.

"It was bad." Allex said, "I got stupid people in my group. Ellie and Kyra kept arguing. Clyde threw up. We probably drove Merlin crazy." He took another bite of pizza, "...It wasn't really fun. I liked it when you took me last time."

Arthur opened his mouth, and then closed it. His eyes felt unnaturally hot, and he was pretty sure it wasn't from the fever. "...Then we'll go again sometime."

Alex's smile was Arthur's reward.

This was what two best friends and a younger brother were for, Merlin supposed. They couldn't put him in bed with Arthur Pendragon, so they had to drag him off to a club that advocated 'Free Love'. It was crowded, noisy, and most of the people there had no clothes on. Everyone was probably right at home--with the exception of Merlin.

Mordred had disappeared off to the dance floor with an older woman on his arm. Merlin tried to worry about him and couldn't muster the energy. Will and Matthew were probably somewhere with bosomy company of their choice. He was just there, at the bar, nursing a Coke--because someone needed to stay sober. His glass was empty again, and before he had a chance to call for another, a new glass was set in front of him.

Courtesy of a very -gorgeous- bartender. Merlin had to blink twice to make sure he was actually there. It was like one of the models from Mordred's pity subscriptions (read: stuff that he left for Merlin to puruse in the bathroom when he was feeling up to it) had come to life.

"Coke with rum on me, you look like you need to loosen up."

"Oh. Er." Merlin bit his lip and looked down at the glass. Yes, it looked very inviting, but--

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Merlin couldn't remember the last time he had flushed so red, "It's just...my friends are getting trashed. I'm trying to be responsible."

The man laughed at him. "People don't come here to be responsible. They come here to get trashed. If you're worried about getting into trouble, I'll keep you out." The smile was disarming. So disarming that Merlin almost melted on the spot. Thus pursuaded, he took a small sip of his drink.

"Are you so charitable to everyone?" Boy, that sounded archaic. Merlin was really rusty in the flirting department.

"Only to people who look like they need it." Mr. Very Handsome and Charitable held out a hand. "Lancelot."

"Merlin." The smile would not leave his face, but Merlin would have otherwise been offended by Lancelot's comment. Lancelot, easy to remember, and much shorter than Mr. Very Handsome and Charitable.

Lancelot sat beside him, "Technically, I'm on break."

"And I have no idea what I'm doing here." Merlin took another sip. Maybe if he sipped...he wouldn't be drunk. "My friends dragged me here."

"Because they need someone to be responsible?" Lancelot grinned.

"No...I'm responsible of my own volition." He felt himself blush again, "I think...they wanted me to get laid." After admitting that, Merlin had to down the entire drink. Lancelot patted his shoulder and gladly served him another.

Camping in their backyard wasn't exactly the same as camping out in the actual wilderness, but Arthur could tell Alex was happy. He was starting to feel a bit woozy again, but Arthur wanted to wait until Alex was asleep before sneaking back into the house to get pills.

"Hey Dad?"

"Yes?"

"This is fun."

Alex sat cross-legged on his sleeping bag with a fistful of popcorn (Merlin hadn't bought the ingredients for s'mores.) Apparently, his son liked popcorn, extra butter. It bothered Arthur that he hadn't known it and his au pair had. "Good."

"Can we do it again tomorrow?"

'I have to go to work tomorrow.' was on the tip of Arthur's tongue, but then he remembered he had given Merlin Saturday off. "...Sure. Why not?" Kaye would have a heart attack. He'd nearly had a stroke this morning from shock when Arthur called him. ("Two days in a row?? Arthur's human senses finally see daylight!!")

"Can we invite Merlin?"

"...Well." Arthur really was not sure what to say to that. "I think Merlin's busy tomorrow."

"But you can tell him to come! We can have a party."

Part of Arthur was glad that Alex had taken so easily to Merlin Emrys, the other part of him, was uneasy. But it wansn't the type of uneasiness that one felt when one's son was left attended with a suspected pedophile--Merlin was not like that; but rather, it was jealousy. He was afraid of how Alex saw Merlin. "Alex, Merlin can't come tomrrow." He said firmly.

"But why? You never even asked him."

Arthur laid down on his own sleeping bag, the air mattress was still in Alex's room and he'd been lazy. "...Do you...um, like Merlin better than you like Dad?" The question just slipped, and it sounded outright pathetic.

Alex's brows furrowed, "Dad, you're being weird. What kind of question is that?"

Arthur too, wondered. "Never mind, Alexander. Just go to sleep, it's getting late." He reached for the half eaten bowl of popcorn and stood. "I'm going to put this up, I'll be right back."

Merlin was not a big fan of one night stands. But...hell, waking up to an all naturale Lancelot moaning quietly into his shoulder...was kind of nice. Never mind that across the room was Mordred sandwiched in bed between two women that...well, Merlin wasn't sure what to think, but he guessed his brother wasn't at all picky when he was drunk. Merlin was decidedly hazy on last night, but he guessed they'd come back, had sex, maybe drank, maybe some more sex, and then passed out. And it had been good, mind-blowing sex of the crazy college student variety. Merlin had the marks to prove it too.

"Lancelot."

Lancelot murmured something that sounded suspiciously like an obscenity.

"Lancelot." Merlin said again. "I can't...breathe."

Some shuffling. Lancelot sat up and Merlin took the opportunity to stare at his back. Lancelot was a bartender at one of the hottest nightclubs in town--it was also random-hookup central. So he was probably going to leave and--

Maybe Merlin was a little bit old-fashioned, but he liked to know the people he slept with.

"I should go." Lancelot grinned down at him. "You were great." (Well, at least Lancelot had the decency to let people down easy.)

Merlin felt his own face heat up. "...I've, uh." He wasn't proud of it, really. The only reason one would get so good at sex was to have it often, with different people. Even though Merlin sometimes lived lives that did not belong to him, it didn't make much sense to just sleep with a person, and then never see them again. Might be his naivete talking again; but people were once old fashioned for a reason.

"Can't you stay for breakfast?"

Lancelot blinked. Apparently, no one ate breakfast anymore. "...Sure."

Merlin was wonderfully sore, and he grinned back at Lancelot. The morning was going to be all right again--until he realized that he hadn't taken enough measures, and there was come all over Arthur's boxers. Upon realizing that, Merlin felt a bit nauseated.

"Merlin?"

He'd worry about that later, though. First, he'd have a nice breakfast with Lancelot.

Merlin liked Lancelot. When the bartender wasn't naked, he was actually a fun guy to talk to. They had breakfast, talked, and Lancelot left his number. Merlin saw him to the door.

"Do you serve all your partners breakfast? Or is it just me?"

"You make it sound like I do this often." Merlin groused as he leaned against the doorway, "I don't. But yes, I like making sure people eat breakfast."

"You've got to be the weirdest person I've ever met." Lancelot leaned forward and kissed him, "I'll see you around."

Merlin felt giddy for a full five minutes, and then he just had to remember that he had to get the come off of Arthur's boxers, and return Arthur's clothes. Merlin hoped he could get out of the house before Mordred and his women woke up. He did not want to be here to witness that go down.

The doorbell rang three times before Arthur heard it. It was actually a very strange experience, sitting in his dining room and eating an actual breakfast--he'd fixed it himself too. He wondered who it could be this bright and early on a Saturday. Even if Arthur himself never understood the value of sleeping in, he could see why the others were so addicted to it.

When he opened the door, he found Merlin, holding a plastic bag.

"Merlin. You weren't supposed to come to work today." Arthur blinked, "...Did you need something?"

"Well. Um." Merlin hesitated, "I just wanted to give you your clothes back." He held out the bag. "...And see how you're feeling."

"...And that couldn't have waited until Monday?" Arthur felt his lips twitch, "You're getting to be as much of a workaholic as me. Or you could have just kept them, it's not like I wear those. The fever was a fluke, I'm fine now."

"You're just a bad influence." Merlin shot back, but he was grinning.

"You forget who you're talking to." Arthur grumbled.

"Technically I'm not working today." Merlin reminded him, "So I'm not under your jurisdiction. Since I'm here already, you might as well take your clothes. I wouldn't know what to do with them."

Arthur took the bag. "Fine."

An awkward silence settled; if Arthur had to guess, his au pair left his apartment in a hurry. He was wearing a wrinkled t-shirt that had some logo that Arthur had never seen, or heard of, and shorts, also wrinkled. His footwear of choice were a pair of flip-flops. Right, so Arthur was observant when things got awkward, but only then. Merlin was also wearing a bandana around his neck.

"What's that for?"

"...Um." Merlin looked thoroughly uncomfortable, "Trust me, you don't want to know. It's me trying to make a bad fashion statement."

That just piqued his curiosity even more, "And why is that, Merlin?"

Merlin shifted from one foot to the other, and Arthur thought that he had turned slightly red. Oh. Well, obviously, of course. "I'm...just going to go." So saying, Merlin even began to back away from the door, "Sorry to bother you on an off day."

"Dad? Who's at the door?"

Arthur turned, Alex was standing there in his pajamas.

"It's Merlin." Arthur reported dutifully, and seeing Alex's face light up, he felt obligated to add, "You can say hello before he leaves."

Apparently, Alex didn't need telling twice. He squeezed past Arthur, out the door and nearly bowled Merlin over. Merlin looked a bit dazed, but swept Arthur's son up anyway. "Someone's energetic this morning. That's good."

Alex hid his face in the crook of Merlin's neck, "Dad and I had fun yesterday. We went camping!"

"Camping?" Merlin's smile was an indulgent one, "Sounds like fun, where?"

"Our backyard." Arthur supplied, still watching them somewhat warily from the doorway. "We set up a tent."

"Yup! And Dad said we can do it again today. Do you want to come?" Alex looked so hopeful.

"Well. Um." Merlin looked surprised, "...I can't. I have things to do today."

"Oh..."

Arthur didn't like his son looking so unhappy, and he liked it even less when it was Merlin inspiring the expression. "Do you want to stay for lunch?"

"No, I really can't." Merlin set Alex back down. "I think I need to go home and take care of stuff." He knelt down, so that he looked at Alex at eye level, "But I'll see you Monday, and we'll do something fun after school, okay?"

"...I guess."

"Good." Merlin smiled at him, and then, he flipped a casual wave in Arthur's general direction. "I'll see you guys."

"...Wait." Arthur said.

"Mm?"

"I'll drive you home."

It was nice of Arthur to offer, and Merlin had long learned that you didn't refuse Arthur Pendragon...when he wanted to do soemthing for you. And besides, Merlin didn't want to suffer through a forty minute bus ride. Alex was perfectly content to ride along in the back.

"What exactly do you have today?" Arthur asked him.

Merlin swallowed, "House cleaning."It was a half truth, since they had gotten trashed, and the apartment was in less than perfect shape.

"Oh."

Arthur pulled up to the curb, and Merlin was glad to see that Matthew was actually taking the initiative and lugging a bag of trash to the public dumpster. What he was not so thrilled to see was Matthew deterring from his task the moment Arthur's car pulled up and Merlin got out.

"Dude! You missed Mordred's performance. It was like, epic!"

Merlin didn't want to let on that he left the apartment precisely for that reason. "You can tell me about it later." He said tiredly, "Thanks, Arthur. Bye, Alex, I'll see you Monday."

Matthew's gaze snapped to the car and when he saw Arthur, Merlin noticed he got the glint...the glint that said he was up to no good. Merlin suddenly did not have a good feeling about this at all. "Merlin, I thought you had the day off today."

"I do. I just went over to return the clothes I borrowed...and Arthur was nice enough to drive me back." Merlin thought fast and talked faster. "...Arthur, this is my friend Matthew. And Matthew, Arthur Pendragon, my boss."

Arthur looked a bit uncomfortable about shaking hands with a guy that had a trashbag in his other hand, but Merlin thought his employer handled it beautifully. He only gripped Matthew's hand for a half second and said, "Nice to meet you."

Matthew looked amused at this, "Merlin, I approve. Seriously, gentlemen these days...they're like diamonds." He slung a casual arm around Merlin's shoulder, "I get it, no hard feelings, I'm sure Mr. Pendragon will take plenty care of you."

"...What?" Said Arthur.

"Nothing." Merlin stepped hard on Matthew's foot. Hard enough for the color in Matthew's face to drain. "He's hungover. Don't mind him." He didn't let go until Arthur was safely en route down the street.

A Fortunate Fall (3/18)

raspberry_pop — Sun, 24 May 2009 08:34:57 GMT

banner made by toodelicious Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 5203
Progress: 3/18 (if everything goes according to plan...prev. 1/20, but outline was revised)
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.

1/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/871.html#cutid1
2/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/1393.html

--

Just like that, two weeks passed. Merlin's life took on a new routine; one that he could honestly say was much better than the last one, even though this was much more demanding. He showed up at the Pendragon House at seven on weekdays, and eight-thirty on weekends. Arthur would brief him on whatever he needed to do that day. Arthur would also always be later than he promised (the hours varied by day, sometimes he made it home at ten), but he always had an excuse. And just by looking at him, Merlin could tell that Arthur went through hell at work every day and didn't press the issue.

Arthur always smoked when he drove Merlin home. He probably had vodka after that. It was a decidedly unhealthy habit, but as the family au pair, Merlin wasn't in the positon to say anything. Nor was he particularly eager to jeapordize his newfound occupation. Sometimes, Arthur vented on the car, about assistants that "didn't know jack shit about what they're programming" and the fact that everyone thought he was dating his secretary, "I swear, I'm not. Just because Miss Tirmore is intent on making eyes at me doesn't mean I have to reciprocate."

Sure it didn't. But Merlin had seen a picture of this Sophia Tirmore, Alex had pointed her out when they had gone over photo albums. For someone who seemed to dislike sentimentalities, Arthur kept quite a collection. But all of the pictures were mostly of Alex, and he didn't see one picture of Arthur's wife. Sophia apparently thought it was a good idea to wear heels to the company picnic, and while Alex sat in Arthur's lap in the picture, she was pressed a little close. If Arthur didn't reciprocate to that, his employer was either still in mourning, or gay. And Merlin left it at that.

Merlin thought about the ring that Arthur wore. He'd probed Alex about it several times, but all the boy had to say about it was: "I don't remember Mommy at all. Dad won't let me see a picture. One day she just went away."

"Do you remember how?"

"Nope. Dad just said she did."

Merlin left that alone too.

Alex restarted school, he was five, but Arthur had pulled some strings and put his son in the first grade. Gedref Academy was a prestigious private school that taught K-12, and Merlin was still wating for a building to be named Pendragon Hall. When Alex was at school, Merlin did errands for Arthur, simple things, like picking up a package at the post office, or picking up his suits from the dry cleaner's. Of course he could have just as easily said that none of those things were on his job description. (Actually, this made him wonder why Arthur didn't hire a housekeeper or a butler. Butlers were so nineteenth century? But he could have certainly afforded one.)

Arthur was far from a slave driver though, and most times, Merlin had time to do his work, and Arthur let him use the computer in his study. It was much faster and more updated than the one he owned at home. And that computer was forever getting virused...because of Mordred.

It was a Thursday morning when Merlin walked up to the Pendragon door. Arthur usually just left the door open now, thanks to habit and Merlin let himself in.

"Arthur?"

"In the study."

Merlin followed the voice down the hall. When he reached the study, he was none too surprised to see Arthur bent over at the computer and tapping away and the keys. His employer wore thin, fashionable glasses for work, but this was the first time that Merlin had seen him wear them. They looked nice on Arthur...and then again, practically everything looked nice on Arthur. Still, at seven in the morning...

"Arthur, what are you doing?"

"I'm coding." Arthur looked away from the screen and blinked up at him, "This is a very crucial update, and I don't trust my programmers."

Arthur did not trust anyone. Merlin could have told him that. Though first, he saw that Arthur's eyes were red. "Do you have to code at seven o' clock in the morning?"

"I have a deadline to meet." Arthur said. "And they'll probably need the entire day to configurate this code into the program. Knowing their talent or lack thereof." He gestured at the screen.

All Merlin could make out was a bunch of letters, a bunch of numbers, and a generous amount of parentheses. "You lost me." He held up his hands.

Arthur rubbed his eyes, "...That's a normal reaction. Would you mind making some coffee and waking Alexander? I'm almost done."

"Sure."

Merlin left the study and decided to wake Alex first while the coffee brewed.

"Hey, Alex, wake up. It's seven."

The boy groaned and curled up into a tighter bundle. "Don't want to."

"Of course you want to." Merlin smiled to himself, and settled a hand atop Alex's head, "Come on, it's Thursday. Aren't you going somewhere special today?"

"It's Thursday?" Alex peeked out suspiciously from his blanket. "Is it going to the zoo day?"

"Yep, you guessed it. Now, up." Alex had been talking about the zoo for the past week, it was all he talked about. Sure, he'd been there before, but only with Arthur, and he was only there for a few hours because Arthur had a distress call, one of his systems had crashed. But that was over a year ago. He'd never been there with his friends, and the last time he'd been there, he'd seen a gorilla mother with her baby. Alex wondered if the gorilla got any bigger.

Alex made a mad scramble for his school clothes, and Merlin left the room, feeling oddly accomplished.

Which left the problem of Arthur. The coffee was ready, but honestly, Merlin had his doubts. He had taken the liberty of filling Arthur's cabinets and fridge with food, but he didn't think Arthur checked his fridge at all. But he must have checked it...the vodka bottle was there half empty. Perhaps Arthur turned a convenient blind eye to everything else and only had eyes for the liquor. One of these days, his employer was going to become an alcoholic.

He finally decided on delivering cinammon toast and coffee to Arthur in the study.

For a few moments, Arthur stared blankly at the toast. He recognized the coffee, but not the toast.

"...Merlin, what's this?"

All that coding had gone to Arthur's head. "...It's called breakfast."

"You made me breakfast?"

"You're thirty." Merlin couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, "...No one has made you breakfast before?"

And Arthur looked so ridiculously forlorn from that question that Merlin dropped the query altogether. Merlin turned to go, "...Please eat that while you code?"

"...Merlin."

Merlin paused.

Arthur looked a little lost with the plate of cinammon toast beside his computer, "...Thanks." As if to cover up that word, he quickly changed the subject, "You're aware that you have to chaperone Alexander at the zoo today? I called his teacher, you'll be standing in for me."

"I remember. You told me."

"And I'm probably going to be late today.I have to attend a benefit dinner." As he spoke, Arthur picked experimentally at the toast.

"With Miss Tirmore as your date?" Merlin prodded.

"...I'm not even going to answer that." Arthur waved his hand dismissively, "Merlin, I pay you a fortune to mother my kid, not to stick your nose into my business. Go check on Alexander if you have so much time on your hands."

Merlin felt like he had been given the proverbial slap across the face. But at least Arthur nibbling on the toast.

For the first time in two weeks, Arthur had snapped at him. Dismissed him, as if he had been a servant. As if Arthur was a prince, and Merlin was just...there. Merlin couldn't even put his finger on why it bugged him so much. It just did. He supposed that alone annoyed the hell out of him.

Arthur left for work. Alex hugged his father good bye.

"Merlin, let's go, we're going to be late!"

Right. Merlin plastered a smile on his face--he'd plenty of practice from the bookstore and the convenience store. "No, we're not. Don't run Alex, you'll trip and fall."

Alex's teacher was a Miss Mary Collins. She had a nice open smile and a nice lyrical voice. She shook hands warmly with Merlin, who suddenly didn't know how to introduce himself. "Uh, Arthur said he called you. I'm Alex's au pair or whatever the male equivalent of it is...my name's Merlin."

She looked a little confused, but let that go, "...All right. Well, then, I guess I'll put you with the Shark Group." She handed him a stack of badges with a picture of a shark on it. "Have the children print their names with this marker here." She handed him a marker.

Alex just grinned up at his teacher and grabbed Merlin's hand. "Merlin's my substitute Dad today." He announced--loud enough for the other chaperones and actual parents to turn around and stare. This was certainly going to be a long day.

He met the other kids in his group, besides Alex, there were Ellie, Kyra, and Clyde. And then Merlin knew it was going to be an even longer day when Kyra insisted on "making her name all pretty", therefore hogging the marker for a full five minutes to draw flowers around the border of her badge. And then Ellie had to make her name pretty too, so Merlin quickly penned, rather, markered her a small rose by the scrawl that was her name. Who knew a weekend's pen and ink workshop would come in so handy?

Arthur understood several things. He vaguely remembered an article about an office worker that blew up his entire office with a homemade bomb. He found himself sympathizing with the guy, because right now, he'd like nothing better than to snap the necks of the two programmers that stood before him.

"Mr. Pendragon, this code is work of genius!" One gushed, handling the disk as if it was some sort of God-given gift. "I'll go write it into the update right away."

"Don't break it." And the moment those words left his mouth, Arthur knew he was doomed. One could always hope, right?

A moment later, Sophia peeked in, "...Arthur? I was just stepping out to buy some breakfast, want anything?"

She was flawless, as always. And she wanted him. She made no secret of that. Today, Sophia Tirmor was wearing a black cocktail dress and sequined heels. Arthur knew why she wore that dress. She had announced it quite accidentally when he was passing by to Kaye's secretary Margaret, "Well, Arthur and I were planning to go to the dinner directly from the office; it'd be a hassle if I have to change."

Arthur shook himself, "...No thanks, I already ate." Merlin had no business baiting him like that, but he had to give it to his au pair that he knew how to cook.

She looked instantly disappointed, "I see." Not to be deterred, she simpered, "Are we still on for lunch?"

They were never really 'on' for lunch. Usually Arthur went to lunch and Sophia followed like a starving dog. He turned back to his screen, "Don't I have a lunch meeting with somebody today?" But he honestly did not put it past her to 'forget' his appointments so she could imprison him in her presence for lunch every day. Sophia looked displeased but she went to check the books anyway.

"You have lunch with a Mr. Gawaine at two at the Twin Palms' Restaurant."

She stalked away then, heels clicking viciously. Arthur found that he could not put his relief into words.

Merlin was tired. He was tired of an Alex that wouldn't let go of him, and tired of three six-year-olds that were like spoiled brats, used to getting their way. The trip had been wholly uneventful, Kyra and Ellie were probably at odds all the time; if Kyra wanted to see the elephants, then Ellie had to pick an animal that was conveniently on the other side of the zoo, like tigers. Clyde was a quiet boy. He would have been all right if he had thought to tell Merlin that he was allergic to shrimp.

He'd almost thought the kid was going to die on him when he started gasping for breath after wolfing down the shrimp casserole at a horrifying speed. Then Clyde had turned green, and hurled half chewed bits all over the table.

Merlin had taken the kids and split. He genuinely hoped that Mary Collins wasn't going to hear about this. The list of misfortunes continued, Kyra was only given twenty dollars as spending money, Ellie was given twenty-five. He was so afraid that Ellie was going to throw a tantrum that he had no choice but to slip her a five dollar bill to make her shut up. He was also phyiscally tired. Either he was lugging Clyde, or he was lugging Alex. His arms felt like they were going to fall off.

Alex leaned his head against him on the bus.

"Merlin, I'm sorry we made you mad."

Merlin looked at the boy that sat beside him, "Alex, it wasn't you." He said, "Don't worry about it."

"We didn't get to see the gorillas." Alex pouted.

"I'm sorry." Merlin said, "But the zookeeper said they were sick."

There was silence then, and Alex studied his hands. "Hey...can we go see Aunt Morgana later? I have to return her book."

"Fine." Merlin shrugged, his head was starting to swim. Going back wasn't a bad idea, maybe he'd nick an aspirin or two from Arthur. "Was the book about Shakespeare?"

"Yeah, it's too hard for me."

Morgana Le Fay greeted Alex with a warm hug, and Merlin with a polite smile. She held herself like a queen, and you could tell that Morgana was an old socialite. "Hey, Alex! You've come just in time for a snack. Me and your Uncle Owaine were just about to have tea. I hope you plan on staying?"

Alex glanced at Merlin, "...May I?"

"Sure. Just call me when you want to be picked up." Merlin turned to go.

"Wait a minute, you're invited too." Morgana stopped him in midstep, "...You must be Arthur's new lifeline. I'm curious about you, stay for tea."

"...Uh." Merlin didn't like the sound of this, at all. "It's all right, I'm just going to go back to work for a little while...and I'll come back to pick up Alex."

Her eyes narrowed at that, "...Is Arthur making you work for him?"

"Well, I look after Alex--"

"No, I mean, are you doing stuff he's too lazy to do himself like typing."

Merlin shook his head vehemently, "No! I'm finishing the last semester of college...Arthur, um, let's me use his computer. I mean, I pick up his laundry sometimes, but that's nothing. He's actually really nice..." But he remembered that Arthur had dismissed him this morning, and felt compelled to add, "Mostly." He held out a hand, "I'm Merlin. Merlin Emrys."

"Morgana." Morgana clasped his hand, taking the opportunity to give him an once over and Merlin felt naked. "Where did Arthur find you?" As if he was a miracle, too good to be true. As if she couldn't believe her brother hit a stroke of luck. What Merlin had seen so far, Arthur Pendragon was plenty unlucky.

"...Actually, it's wierd. We met where I um, used to work." Merlin chose his words carefully. "I guess, I'm lucky too."

Morgana's expression wholly disagreed with him, but she also looked somewhat pleased. It was an odd expression, but Merlin supposed that socialites were taught everything.

They had tea. In the dining room with chocolate cake. Merlin was half expecting a full English tea set in the living room. Morgana's husband was Orwaine, he worked as an engineer designing airplaines. He must have been a mind reader as far as his wife was concerned, because as soon as Alex finished licking his fingers of chocolate cream, Orwaine smiled at him, "Hey, Alex, I got a new model airplaine, it's from Russia this time. Want to go see?"

"Sure!"

Morgana watched them leave. She cut a dainty bit of chocolate cake and then looked up at Merlin.

Merlin swore that look could freeze ice.

"Answer me honestly. Arthur hasn't been on time once ever since you started working, has he?"

Well...Merlin didn't know how to answer. "...Look, I know he has a stressful job. I don't mind if he's late sometimes."

"But he's late every day." Morgana repeated, "I know, because I used to look after Alex before you. I'm not saying this to be unkind to my brother. It's just..."

"Just?" Merlin blinked.

Morgana bit her lip, this couldn't have been easy for her to say. "Don't bend over too far for him, and don't get too close. You might not like what you see. You're a nice person, I can tell already. Don't let Arthur ruin that for you."

"...My code doesn't malfunction." Arthur said, voice dangerously low.

"But--"

He backed the terrified assistant into the wall with his eyes alone, "My code, does not malfunction. Nor does it wipe out random chunks of the program already in place. I ran my code five times this morning and it works just fine. You're fired."

"I--"

"Get out of my office and go clean out your desk." Arthur glanced at the clock, it was five, and unless he wanted to miss the dinner--which he sort of wanted to, now that he thought about it...rewriting the entire program would take hours. He hoped the would serve alcohol at the dinner.

"Arthur?" Sophia peeked in after the assistant slunk out, "Are you about ready to go?"

"Yes...I am." Arthur nodded distractedly as he reached for his phone, "Just let make a quick phone call." He dialed Merlin's number, it was easily enough to find, it only took him a couple of minutes to comb the Internet...having an au pair with a truly unique name did help with that.

It took three rings for Merlin to pick up, "Hi, Arthur. Alex and I are making pizza."

Arthur could have voiced his concern about Alex messing around in the kitchen, but Merlin probably had more experience in this field than he did. "Oh. That's good. I'm glad he's being helpful."

"Arthur...there you go again." Merlin sighed, "Trust your kid, it won't kill you." Actually, Merlin sounded very tired. And Arthur asked, "How was the zoo?"

"...Bad, but it wasn't Alex. I'll glorify you with my adventures another day." Merlin said, "Yes, Alex, it's your dad....Arthur, was there something you wanted?"

Arthur glanced at Sophia. She had this really annoying habit of clicking her heels when she was annoyed. Like she was doing now, "Remember the code I was working on this morning?"

"You snapped at me for it, how could I forget?"

And Arthur Pendragon didn't like feeling guilty, "...Must be karma then. The code is wiped. I'm going to stay at the office and finish it. Would you mind staying the night with Alexander?"

"I..um." Merlin hesitated, "Fine, I guess. Sorry about your code."

"So am I." Arthur agreed, glancing to the window. The sky looked dusky. "...So, if you look into my closet, there's an air mattress on the top shelf...or unless you prefer the guest bedroom, but the sheets haven't been changed since forever. I don't have people over."

"Or I could just sleep on the couch." Merlin suggested.

"Don't be ridiculous." Arthur snorted, "Do you know what sleeping on a couch does to your back?"

"Arthur, are you trying to be concerned about me?" Merlin laughed unexpectedly, "Don't worry, okay? I'm twenty-three, I can still recover from chronic back pain."

"You better not be calling me old." If Merlin was, Arthur would simply dock pay. Besides, being thirty didn't mean he was senile. "Let me talk to Alexander."

"I'm not calling you old." But the smile was evident in Merlin's voice and Arthur felt his own lips twitch. "All right...hey, Alex, put that down for a moment, your dad wants to talk to you." There was some shuffling.

Then Alex: "Hey, Dad!"

"Hey yourself." Arthur said, "...Listen, I'm not going to be home tonight. I need you to be a good boy for Merlin, okay?"

"You're not going to be home at all?"

Arthur had never felt so guilty in his life, and his enitre life had been built on the concept of guilt. "Alex, something very bad happened at work, and I have to stay to fix it."

"But do you have to take such a long time?"

"Alexander...I'll try, okay? No promises, but I'll try." Arthur said, and glanced at Sophia, who was listening too hard, "...Dad has to go, okay, Alexander? Be a good boy."

Alex's little face looked so lost when he handed the phone back to Merlin. "Here you go."

Merlin looked away from the oven, "...Is this the first time?"

"Of Dad not coming home? Yeah." Alex bit his lip, "...Is he mad at me?"

"Of course not. His code just blew up this morning. That has nothing to do with you." Merlin told him assuringly, "It's going to be another twenty minutes until the pizza is ready, Arthur said something about an air mattress. Do you know where that is?"

"...Yeah, we used to use it when we went camping. It's in Dad's room." Alex took his hand and led him upstairs.

It was Merlin's first time in Arthur Pendragon's room. He didn't know what to expect, but the room was bigger than Merlin's own living room. Everything was neat and in order. The bed was made (probably because Arthur never slept there?) and on the wall was a framed picture of Alex and Arthur in matching tuxedos. Merlin looked up at the picture. "...You look very handsome here." So did Arthur. And there was still no wife.

"We used that for our Christmas card last year." Alex said, as he rummaged in Arthur's closet. "The suit made me all itchy."

"I see."

Merlin walked over to Arthur's desk, there was a pile of papers. More coding, he supposed.

But there was also a picture of a woman, a young beautiful woman with an open face in a yellow dress. She held a single daisy in her hand, and was beaming. It was so small, settled inconspicuously next to Arthur's case of pens. Like it didn't want to be found. Merlin was adept at finding things, one had to be, when residing with Mordred, Matthew, and Will.

"...Merlin! I found it, but it's heavy. Will you help me?"

Right. Merlin went to help Alex lug the air mattress to his room. He put the woman out of his mind.

"You can wear these." Alex came back to plopped on his bed, he had a pile of clothes with him: flannel pants, a t-shirt, even...boxers. And Merlin guessed they were all Arthur's. "I mean, Dad doesn't wear these anymore."

"Alex, just because Arthur doesn't wear those clothes any more doesn't mean I get to wear them." Merlin lay down on the air mattress. It was actually more comfortable than his bed back home...which was ridiculous. He felt a little wierd about not taking a shower, but he would feel even wierder in Arthur's clothes. "It's okay."

"I'm going to go take a bath." Alex announced.

"Okay." Merlin was glad. It left him some time to think. He didn't even know what to think. From Morgana's warning, to Arthur's phone call, to...the woman in the photo. It was none of those business, but something was causing Arthur Pendragon's chronic unhappiness and Merlin wanted to know what. Perhaps he was a bit naive that way, but it wasn't like it could be helped. And Morgana's warning, he didn't know what to make of that...she seemed to know her brother was unhappy and wanted to keep him that way.

Arthur was deeply unhappy, that much Merlin knew, just by looking at him. But anything could have been making Arthur unhappy, he had an unhealthy affinity with alcohol and smoking. Which he'd started recently. Yes, Arthur was stressed from his job, but to take on so many vices...it was unreasonable.

Merlin thought so hard that his head hurt. Suddenly, the idea of a hot shower was welcoming...even if he had to wear Arthur's clothes.

His phone beeped rudely at him again.

Mordred.

Merlin flipped it on, "...Yeah?"

"It's nine...are you coming home, or are you spending the night with some cute bartender?"

For someone who professed to be straight, Mordred really had an unhealthy fascination with cute bartenders. "I'm not at a bar. I'm staying the night at the Pendragons'." He said, annoyed.

"But isn't Arthur Pendragon like...married and thirty?" Modred sounded shocked, "...Aren't you living the life. In that case, I take back what I was going to say...atlhough I haven't really said it yet...still, I mean, it's pretty surprising that he swings that way--"

Merlin felt his face heating up. "Mordred." He was just going to block his brother out again, "...I'm not spending the night with Arthur. I'm staying with his kid, Arthur needs to stay at the office and take care of stuff."

"...Dude." Mordred said, "Dude. Merlin, you're so stupid."

"What?"

"You're a fucking sellout. Do you know you're letting Arthur Pendragon ruin your life? Ever since you've started this job, it's been the kid or the dad...I don't see you, and--" Mordred broke off abruptly.

Merlin was surprised, in all honesty. He was shocked to the point of having nothing to say. Mordred was not sentimental, and he rarely lectured his older brother. "Mordred...it's not like that, you don't get it."

"Okay, fine, you like him then."

"I do not." Merlin sighed, "...You know, just because I have prolonged interaction with a guy I find attractive doesn't mean I want to...besides, Arthur's straight." If Miss Tirmore was any indication.

"And since when have you let that stop you?"

"I don't even know why I'm having this coversation with you." Merlin said, "Go and have a party. I'm hanging up." Yes, Mordred was probably concerned about Merlin's lack of a sex drive...the way his brother saw it, he ddin't understand Merlin's reluctance to pursue anything of a romantic nature. Merlin didn't understand it himself either, but for now, that wasn't important. Keeping up with rent, and finishing up his semester were. And he had his share of bad flings.

Alex came back into the room.

"Are you sure you don't want a shower?" The boy asked him, "Dad really won't care, trust me."

Merlin gave in. It took him only two tries to get up, "...Where's the bathroom?"

"Two doors down...your--" Alex paused to stare at his hands, "...Left."

"So you hired someone else to look after Alex?" Sophia buckled herself in. It was after the dinner, and Arthur felt a little drunk, but he was pretty sure he was still aware enough to drive. "Good for you. I was going to say, if you didn't find anyone suitable, Alexander could stay with my father, he's retired and all he does is garden all day."

Apparently, Sophia's idea of subtle was to take an anvil and smash it over Arthur's head. Arthur had met her falther once--at her request. Alfuric Tirmore was completely senile; and when he wasn't senile, he was a complete nutcase. "...Merlin's doing a good job of taking care of him. But I'll keep that in mind."

She beamed at him, and Arthur fought the urge to throw up.

But by and by, the wine settled, and by the time they were at the office, Sophia's hand had settled on his knee and Arthur couldn't bring himself to mind. He got out of the car.

"You're not going home?"

"No. I have things to rewrite. I'm only staying for a little while."

Sophia brightened, "I'll stay with you, if it's just a little while."

"That's okay." If Sophia Tirmore stayed, Arthur could not trust himself to be honorable. "You go ahead."

She put her arms around him and kissed him. It had to be the wine, because Arthur found himself liking the way she kissed him, a lot of lips, too much tongue. It was sloppy, and she was probably drunk too. Arthur thought he threw up in his mouth a little after she stepped back.

"Good night, Arthur."

A Fortunate Fall (2/18)

raspberry_pop — Sat, 23 May 2009 07:12:36 GMT

banner made by toodelicious Title: A Fortunate Fall
Fandom: Merlin (c) BBC
Genres: AU, Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13/R
Words: 5284
Progress: 2/18 (if everything goes according to plan...prev. 1/20, but outline was revised)
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: Frankly, I was just blown away by how well recieved this was. My muse went wild after that and the rest is history. Thanks again to all who commented. Rating changed because Mordred decided to be naughty...x.x

1/18: raspberry-pop.livejournal.com/871.html#cutid1

--

Saturday morning.

For some reason or the other, Merlin woke up completely bombed. Or, he wasn't exactly bombed, but he knew by the unnatural weight on his shoulders--his head, that he was at the very least hungover. His alarm clock was there, but the numbers were blurry.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

It was very well worth noticing that he had gone to sleep in his work uniform and he positively reeked of beer. After a couple of tries, he sat up, head still hammering. And then it was too much effort so he fell back again and his head hit the wall. "Ow!"

This commotion caused Mordred to peek his head in, "Good morning, sleeping beauty. How're you doing?" If Merlin was wasted, it made perfect sense for Mordred to be too...but his brother was obviously better at cleaning up after himself. Merlin found that decidedly ironic.

"I'm bombed." Merlin groaned, "And my head...it hurts like a bitch. How much beer did you give me last night?"

"Hell if I remember. I'm not exactly sober myself." Mordred leaned lazily on the doorway. "But dude, you're totally a lightweight. Go shower, you look like hell."

"I would if I could get up." Merlin glared at him, "...What time is it?"

"Like...uh, seven, seven-forty." Mordred squinted at the clock, "So you better get a move on right about now. I'm leaving, so lock up. Will and Matthew aren't home."

By the time Merlin was showered and dressed, he felt a little bit more sober. The thought of food, however, made him a little nauseated so he passed on the bagel that Mordred had so thoughtfully set out for him and downed the cup of coffee. It was too bitter and didn't have enough sugar, but he was late already. He thought he still looked a little hazy, but that couldn't be helped.

He only hoped, as he stumbled down to the bus stop half a block away, that it wasn't going to be so obvious to his new employer, Arthur Pendragon.

The bus ride to the Pendragon mansion took exactly forty-five minutes, and by that time, Merlin's watch read 8:40 and he honestly hoped that he didn't make Arthur too late for work. His headache had subsided some, but somehow, standing in front of a big house--erm, mansion like this...Merlin sorely wshed he had the alcohol for encouragement. After taking a deep breath, Merlin rang the doorbell. Even the doorbell was fancy, it was set in a wooden carving of a lion's head.

Merlin fully expected a bent-over butler to answer the door, but when the door opened, he was faced with an Arthur Pendragon with his shirt half tucked and tie half fastened. From Arthur's bloodshot eyes, Merlin guessed his employer was not completely in his right mind either. What was impressive though, was that Arthur still managed to look professional in such a disheveled state.

"Merlin. Come in." Arthur opened the door wider, "I'm running a little late this morning."

Merlin wanted to ask about the vodka, but wisely kept his mouth shut. After all, if Arthur Pendragon was this functional post vodka, and Merlin didn't even want to get out of bed post-beer, there was not much he could say. He slipped his shoes off, since the carpet looked very clean, and Arthur didn't have any shoes on. "...Um, that's okay...I'm sorry for being late."

"We all seem to be this morning." Arthur sounded tiredly amused, "Come on, I've got a couple of things to show you, and then I have to run." He walked into the kitchen; which, Merlin noted, was very clean, probably because Arthur never bothered to use it. "Coffee?"

"I already had some."

In answer, Arthur poured himself a generous mug and sat in one of the chairs at the small dining table. The chairs looked comfortable. Merlin took the dismissive hand gesture towards the opposite chair as an invitation to sit. He did.

After a minute, Arthur pulled out an address book and slid it across the table. "All the numbers are in there, I prepared it last night. If you must reach me, don't call the office, my personal cell number's in there too."

"Okay." Merlin flipped through the book, the numbers were alphabetized by name and situation. (All the doctors that Alex would ever need were on page 3, emergency contacts were on page 2) If Arthur prepared this for him under the influence of vodka? Merlin was thoroughly impressed. "...Anything else I need to know?"

Arthur tapped his fingers idly against the table. For the first time, Merlin saw the ring on his left hand. Well. It wasn't a surprise really, Arthur had a kid, and most people that had kids were married. It just seemed to Merlin to be a little odd, and he guessed he didn't see it the first time because he was preoccupied with something else. "...Well, you're welcome to use the kitchen, I've enough faith in you that you won't blow anything up. But there's nothing edible here as far as I know. And...this is to cover whatever you might buy Alexander throughout the day. It's not part of your pay." A hundred dollar bill was also pushed across the table.

Which explained the microwave pizza. Merlin reverently stared at the bill for a few minutes before putting it in his pocket.

"Do you drive?"

"What?" Merlin blinked, driving. "Oh, yeah, but these days, a car hasn't been in the picture." That was less embarrassing than just saying that he was too dirt poor to afford one. "But I drive, yeah."

"Take this then." A set of keys landed in front of him. "I don't want my kid taking public transportation. It's for the other car in my garage."

Maybe it was his wife's car. "Alright." Merlin pocketed the keys, "There's nothing bad about public transporation, it doesn't kill you. Hasn't killed me yet."

Arthur gave him a look, "Yes, but you take public transportation because you can't afford a car." He said bluntly, "Alexander has piano lessons today at one-thirty with Gaius. Before that happens, I don't care what you do, but nail him to that bench and make sure he practices."

"Okay." Merlin said. He could have told Arthur that forcing a musical instrument down a kid's throat never, ever did the trick. "When does he get up on Saturdays?"

"Usually around nine-thirty." Arthur stood, "Make sure he eats his breakfast." He straightened his tie and made short work of his shirt buttons. "I'm going to grab my suit jacket, I'm late already. See you at four?"

"Yep. See you." Merlin smiled at him, "Have a nice day at work."

At precisely nine-thirty, Alex Pendragon came tumbling down the stairs in his pajamas. His hair was mussed and he was all smiles when he saw Merlin sitting at his dining room table. "Good morning, Merlin!"

Merlin smiled back, "Good morning, Alex. Your dad left already."

"I know, he always does." Alex climbed up to the chair that Arthur had occupied. "I'm really tired." He made a show of rubbing his eyes.

"Why don't you go back to sleep?" Alex didn't seem like the Saturday morning cartoon kind of kid.

"I can't, because when I get up, it's really hard to go back to sleep."

"I see." Merlin got up briefly and walked an experimental circle around the kitchen. "Alex, tell me, what do you usually have for breakfast?"

The boy shrugged, "Dunno, Aunt Morgana usually buys me a bagel when she picks me up."

Right. What had Arthur said? "...Well, you're welcome to use the kitchen, I've enough faith in you that you won't blow anything up. But there's nothing edible here as far as I know." Merlin guessed he wasn't kidding. "Oh. Okay then, would you like to get some breakfast?"

"Sure. As long as you don't buy me a bagel."

"Deal."

The other car in Arthur's garage was a small, also unassuming car. There was nothing in the car to indicate who it belonged to, and Merlin felt very wierd driving it. Alex, however, didn't seem to have any qualms about riding in it. "Hey, Alex?"

"Yeah?"

In the rearview mirror, Merlin saw that Alex was listlessly swinging his legs, "Who usually drives this car?"

"Nobody." Alex supplied readily, "It's just Dad's other car."

"Oh." Merlin filed that away for future reference. It wasn't wierd for a man who was that loaded to have two cars, just because he could. But he kept thinking of Arthur's ring. "Do you like muffins?" Mordred's ice cream parlor was connected to a Starbuck's. And for the record, even though he knew his brother was supposedly working, Mordred might not even be there.

"I dunno." Alex shrugged, "I guess."

A trip that usually took Merlin forty minutes by bus now took him only fifteen. He was still a bit ticked about the comment that Arthur had made about him not being able to afford a car, but he was mostly inclined to agree with Arthur by this time. He parked the car in an unsuspecting corner.

"Sorceror's Creamery?" Alex peered at the sign curiosly; beside the letters, there was a boy in a wizard's hat holding an ice cream cone, "Do I get ice cream?"

Merlin grinned back at him, "If you finish your muffin like a good boy, I don't see why not. Come on." He made to pick up Alex and the boy let him.

Alex giggled into his shoulder, "I like you, Merlin. You're nice."

Ice cream, rather, the promise of it, was apparently a great motivator for kids to wolf down a blueberry muffin at warp speed. Merlin found himself impressed, because by the time he was handed his venti latte, the muffin was gone.

"...Alex, did you even chew?"

Alex nodded happily with inflated cheeks, "'Course I did." Or something like that.

"Alex, the ice cream isn't going to run away." Merlin sipped at his coffee, "Please chew carefully, Arthur will never forgive me if you choke on a muffin and die." And it was only his first day, too.

That seemed to quiet Alex down a little, "...Sorry. I'll chew."

Merlin found the reaction a little bit wierd and wisely left it alone. Five-year-olds easily had moodswings. "It's alright, just chew for me, okay?"

After few minutes, Alex finished his muffin. Merlin downed half of his venti, and he hoped that Mordred wasn't making out with some girl in the back.

Long story short, Mordred was and wasn't. Actually, Merlin wasn't quite sure what he was doing. He guessed it wasn't a slow Saturday morning, because otherwise, Mordred woudln't have gotten away with fixing himself a huge sundae and eating it with a girl straddling his lap. Merlin knew her, actually, she was from Mordred's school, and her name was Celine, Celeste, or something like that. She was pretty and had nothing to be ashamed of, but Merlin's hand went instinctively over Alex's eyes.

"Mordred."

Mordred grinned at him, "Hi, Mom."

Alex squirmed, "Merlin--"

"If you're ten years older, I'd let you look." Merlin said. Arthur wouldn't appreciate it very much, probably. To Mordred, he rolled his eyes, "I'd say something very, very rude, but not in front of Alex. What the hell are you doing?"

The girl got off Mordred's lap "We're eating, what's it look like?"

"Celia, don't mind Merlin, he's just like that." Mordred put his spoon down. "Probably because he's not getting any."

"Hey." Merlin wished his brother would just shut up. He was so not looking forward to explaining any of those sexual terminology to a five-year-old. "Stop that."

"Fine, I'm traumatizing the little guy, aren't I?" Mordred glanced down at Alex, amused, "Let him look, it's not like we're naked or anything."

Yes, but the length of Celia's skirt (or lack thereof) left little to the imagination. Merlin reluctantly took his hand away, "Alex, this is my brother Mordred. And, um, Mordred, Alex Pendragon." After a casting a wary look at Celia, he added, "...And that's Celia." Apparently, Merlin's feelings were reciprocated perfectly, she gave him a look and went into the back. "Your girlfriend?"

"She's a skank, I'm just messing with her. I have better taste than that." Mordred grinned. "Nice to meet you, Alex. What kind of ice cream would you like?"

"Nice to meet you too." Alex returned solemnly, "And I'd like chocolate chip." And then he looked at Merlin, "...What's a skank?"

Merlin felt like hitting his head against something hard (the modern equivalent would have been what--headdesking?) "Um." He gave Mordred a pointed look, "You explain it to him."

Mordred paused, he had just plunked a generous scoop of chocolate chip into a cone, "...Are you sure you want me to explain it? 'Cause, you know, I will."

Merlin wanted to slap Mordred, really hard. He looked down to Alex, who looked to him with wide, expectant eyes. "Alex, a, uh, a skank is just a girl who doesn't like to wear a lot of clothing. Okay? That's all. It's not a good word, please don't use it." There was plenty of time for Alex to learn the proper definition when he was older. He took the cone from a snorting Mordred, and handed the boy his cone.

"Oh, okay." Merlin couldn't help but sigh with relief when Alex found the cone much more interesting than the word 'skank'. He was so going to get Mordred back for this later.

There were some days when Arthur Pendragon absolutely despised everyone. This particular Saturday morning, was one of those times. The young associate practically quivered before him, he was not that much younger than Arthur, but deathly afraid of him, "...But I ran it th-three times! It can't be wrong!"

Arthur felt his forehead prickle, "Well, guess what? It's wrong." He took the disk, and was suddenly inspired by an urge to ram it into his his assistant's head, "Run it five hundred more times if you have to, but if that glitch's not fixed, don't even think about going home. Bring it back to me at three, sharp."

The assistant scurried out like a frantic rat. Which gave Arthur some satisfaction, but not much.

"Someone's being a tyrant today." Kaye, his chief accountant peeked his head in, "I could hear you down the hall. Got a minute?"

"For you, I make time." Arthur swiped a pile of files aside. They were starting to look the same anyway. That was reason enough to stop working. "Seat?"

Kaye sat. He was older than Arthur, in his forties, and he always dressed presentably, meaning suit and tie...and gold tie clip. He was some sort of financial genius, and even though he had his pick of jobs across the country...Arthur guessed he had to be pretty proud that Kaye chose to work here. "I ran our figures again. like you asked...here it is to peruse at your leisure." He set down a thin file. "And I thought I'd prod you again, you know, on the proposal."

Arthur felt like a child. He wanted to crawl up into a hole and sleep for a very long time. "...I feel like a sellout if I comply." He said, "I told you this before. I really don't feel comfortable listing so soon."

"Arthur, plenty of companies have done it. You don't want to live on loans forever."

"True, I don't...but Kaye, can we just talk about this another time? I can't even think straight."

Kaye fixed him with a look, one of those looks that just made Arthur feel as if he was glass. It was actually a look that reminded Arthur of his own father, but he preferred not to think about that most times. "Kiddo. There's this thing called 'a day off', I have to ask, have you heard of it?"

"I don't need a day off." Arthur mumbled, "What I do need though, is lunch." He stood up and straightened his suit jacket. "I won't be available until two."

"So I'm guessing my secretary's taking over?" Kaye raised an eyebrow.

Arthur paused near the door, "And that's supposed to mean what?"

"You're taking Sophia with you, aren't you, for lunch?"

"Not you too." Arthur rubbed his temples, "Just because she's my secretary, blonde and twenty-one, does not mean that I have to like her." Sure, Sophia Tirmore was pretty, always put on the bare minimum, and wore heels so sharp that Arthur thought she was going to trip and die at any minute--that didn't mean anything. "There's nothing going on between me and Miss Tirmore."

"Miss Tirmore? Well, aren't you the gentleman." Kaye chuckled to himself. "So you're not?"

"There's nothing wrong with two co-workers having lunch together." Arthur bit out. "Go back to your own office."

Kaye looked amused, but went anyway.

Sophia must have been listening, because her desk was right outside Arthur's office. The moment Arthur stepped out, she slung her purse over her shoulder and stumbled to her feet. The blindingly pink spike heels that she wore probably contributed to that. "Arthur, are you going out to have lunch?"

"Yes." Arthur cleared his throat. People were snickering. "Come with me. I was thinking the Greek deli." He didn't particularly like her, but it did well for a businessman to have eye candy on his arm. (And how lucky it was for him that she didn't care about his wedding ring.)

Merlin had a quiet hour to himself while Alex banged away on the piano. He'd been informed that Alex was supposed to be practicing a Mozart Sonatina, but for someone reason, it just sounded like breaking glass. But Alex was five. And his piano teacher seemed pleased with his progress. Which was something, until Alex came barging back into the dining room and announced:

"I think Mr. Gaius is going deaf."

"...Huh?"

"Serious! Or else he wouldnt have kept shouting 'fortessimo!' when the piano was going to break."

"Right...does Arthur know?"

Alex shrugged, "Not yet." And then he brightened, "Do you wanna see my room?"

"Sure."

He let the boy lead him upstairs by the hand. Actually, the Pendragon mansion looked grand on the outside, it wasn't really that big on the inside. Which gave the whole setting a strangely homey feeling. Alex pushed open the door to the first room on the right side of the long hallway. "Dad's room is down that way...but anyway, this is my room."

Merlin was surprised, given what he had seen of Alex so far, he half expected the room to be like the room of a young mad scientist...but it was a normal room. Except that most normal five-year-olds didn't have the complete works of Charles Dickens on his bookshelf. "Nice room."

Alex flopped down on his bed, "Yeah, I guess."

"Do you actually read the books on your bookshelf?" Aside from Dickens, Alex also had Orwell, Austen...and he couldn't find a single book that he would readily deem a children's book. Harry Potter was questionable, though.

Alex shook his head no. "Aunt Morgana bought them for me...but I don't get most of it. I'm trying to get through Shakespeare now." He held up a thick volume. "I'm reading Macbeth."

"...But you don't get it."

"Not really. Aunt Morgana said it was good, though."

Merlin moved to sit next to Alex on the bed; when Alex didn't stop him, he lay back and stared up at the ceiling. This Morgana...remembering Arthur's address book, he flipped to page 2. Morgana Le Fay, Relation: Aunt, and her phone number was there. "Is she Arthur's sister?"

"Older sister. By..." Alex's face scrunched in thought, "Two years. She's married, but she doesn't have a baby yet. I hope she has one soon, I want a little brother."

"Not a little sister?" Merlin grinned at him.

Alex shrugged, "Maybe. But if I have a little sister, then Aunt Morgana is probably going to make me play Barbies with her." He shuddered. Then, he lay down. "I'm going to take a nap now, okay?"

"Sure."

"Will you stay right here?"

Merlin reached for a blanket, "I"ll stay right here." He promised.

Merlin must have dozed off not soon after, because he woke up to his phone beeping and Alex drooling on his arm. He glanced at the number flashing on his screen blearily. Not recognizing it, but not that many people called him. It had to be someone important. "Hello?"

"...Merlin? It's Arthur."

"...Arthur?"

The voice on the other end sounded decidedly annoyed, "Your employer Arthur."

"Oh." Merlin sat up, careful not to disturb Alex, "Yeah, what's up?" He racked his brain, but couldn't remember a single time in their short history together where they had exchanged numbers.

"How's Alexander?"

Merlin wondered why Arthur persistently called his son that. "He's fine, he's taking a nap right now." Arthur sounded very tired, his job description only said that he had to look after the son, but Merlin couldn't help himself, "How are you?"

If anything, Arthur was probably surprised to be asked, "...I'm, hell, I don't know." A pause, and Merlin picked up some shuffling in the background, "But anyway, it's 4:15 now, I don't see myself getting back until around seven. Would you mind?"

Even if Merlin did mind, he doubted he had much of a choice. "No, it's fine. Alex's a nice kid."

"I know." With that, Arthur cleared his throat, and then muffled, "...Where the hell do you think you're going with my files?--Merlin, I have to go."

"Go ahead. Don't kill yourself."

"Very funny."

Merlin found himself feeling unexpectedly sorry for Arthur Pendragon. He only got out of it when a child's hand touched him on the arm. Alex stared up at him, eyes morose. "Dad's going to be late again, isn't he?"

Somehow, he had the feeling that chronic lateness was a norm, when coming home was concerned. "Yeah." Merlin said, wishing he didn't have to say it, "Don't worry though, I'll be here. I"ll fix you something nice for dinner."

Alex looked baleful, "...There's nothing in the house."

"...Doesn't mean we can't go buy something." Merlin straightened up from the bed, "Come on, chin up. I'll make curry. But you have to come with me to the market first." He picked upt the boy, and then his phone beeped again, skillfully shifting Alex around so he sat comfortably on one arm, Merlin took the call, "Hello?"

"It's Mordred." said Mordred, "Just wondering, are you coming home at all tonight?"

"Mordred, it's barely past four." Merlin walked down the stairs. "I"ll probably be home around eight, why?"

"So if I invite some girls over..." Mordred started.

Merlin sighed, "Girls, plural?"

"Three of them, or four, if Valerie ends up showing. I promise I won't get anything on your bed. I'll clean up, and there probably will be beer, but we'll be supervised."

"By who?"

"Matthew. He's bringing his girlfriend over too."

Merlin could just see the three of them having a party with more girls than each of them could handle when he wasn't around. "Don't trash the place, and when I come home, I don't want to catch you in the middle of anything indecent." (And he definitely didn't want Will or Matthew, both legal, to be arrested and charged with stat rape.)

"God, you're so old-fashioned. Whatever. Fine." Mordred hung up.

Alex asked him, "Who was that?"

"My brother Mordred."

The boy seemed to consider this, "What did he want?"

"To have a party."

"Are you going to let him?"

Merlin found himself shrugging, "It kind of doesn't matter if I do or not. He's probably going to do it anyway." Somehow, he got down to the garage and dumped Alex in the back seat of the car, "Don't be like Mordred when you grow up."

When Arthur came home, he found Alex enthusiastically wolfing down a bowl of...something. He was not quite sure what, but it had to be good. Merlin sat across from him, just watching him eat.

"Hey." Arthur was somewhat startled when Merlin smiled at him, "Welcome home. Want some curry?"

"It's really good." Alex supplied, hopping off his chair and running to him, with the bowl in hand. "Try some!"

Arthur's head split. He wanted more vodka and not curry. But he took the proffered spoon from his son. It was indeed very good curry. He nodded his approval and looked to Merlin, "You made this?"

"Yeah...like it?"

"It's great." Arthur shrugged off his coat and hung on the back of Alex's chair. And then he picked his son up. "Hope you didn't annoy Merlin too much."

Alex pouted, "Dad..."

"Alex and I had lots of fun today." Merlin cut in quickly, "I've got to be going before my brother destroys my apartment." (Because it was leased under his name.) "...Do I have the day off tomorrow?"

"Of course." Arthur set Alex back on his chair. "...Want me to drive you?"

"It's fine, I'll take the bus."

"No, let me drive you." Arthur rephrased his question. It was the least he could do, after Merlin put up with his son all day. "Alex, just sit here and finish your curry, all right? When you're done, you can go watch television. I'll be right back."

"You don't have to do this, I always take the bus."

Arthur backed the car out of the garage. "Actually, I have an ulterior motive...do you mind if I smoke?"

Merlin looked surprised, "Smoke?"

Arthur waved a pack of cigarettes in Merlin's face for clarification.

"Oh. Yeah, sure...I mean, it's your car." Merlin turned toward the window. "I just didn't...expect it."

"Lots of people don't. I didn't start until recently." Arthur lit one, and took a long drag from it. "Was Alexander really all right today?"

"I don't get you, Arthur."

Arthur stopped at a red light and took the opportunity to glance over, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean...look, you've known me for what, two days? And you trust me with your kid, your spare car keys, your hundred dollar bill. For all you know, I could have spent it to buy drugs or something." Merlin bit his lip, "...Can't you trust your own kid to behave? I mean, when you really think about it, it's illogical."

"Are you lecturing me?" Merlin obviously did not take drugs, you couldn't buy drugs worth shit for a hundred bucks.

"No. I'm just saying." Merlin crossed his arms.

Arthur did not want to admit that Merlin had a valid point. Even with that, Alex was a kid; Merlin was an adult. Which brought Arthur back to a question that he had kept in the back of his mind for the whole day. Why exactly did he trust Merlin?

They sat in silence for a while, and it wasn't until they were in front of Merlin's apartment building that Arthur looked over again, "...So you're still a college student."

"Yep."

"When are your classes?"

"Whenever." Merlin unbuckled his seatbelt. "My classes are online, so it's fine. I can look after Alex on weekdays too. Assuming that I'm still hired."

"You're hired." Arthur assured him."And...uh, sorry for being late." It was strange apologizing, more often than not Arthur was apologized to.

Merlin grinned, "Don't worry about it." He moved to get out of the car, "Monday eight-thirty?"

"Yes, Monday, eight-thirty." Arthur nodded. "See you then."

Merlin paused, "...Arthur."

"Hm?"

Merlin looked uncertain again, "...Never mind. Have a safe drive back."

Arthur hated it when people didn't finish their sentences. That ranked high on his list of pet peeves, along with programmers that didn't know what they were doing, and Friday nights. "Night." He waved, and drove off.

In all honesty, Merlin braced himself for a scene he didn't want to see: Mordred naked in the middle of an orgy with who knew how many girls. He only hoped to some merciful higher power that Mordred remembered to use a condom. But when he walked in, there was a couple of beer stains on the floor, and a girl was passed out on his couch. At least, she was dressed. Sort of.

The place was quiet otherwise. On the fridge was a post-it, written with Mordred's usual scrawl: Emily passed out, she'll be okay though. We're going clubbing.

Clubbing. Seventeen was too young for clubbing. But teenagers these days did whatever the hell they wanted to. And maybe, just maybe, Matthew would be responsible for this once. Merliin took a quick shower, noting that their bathroom smelled suspiciously of vomit. He supposed that this Emily was a first-timer at one of Mordred's parties.

Then, when he came to the bedroom, he saw that Mordred had mostly kept his word; his bed was untouched, and although Merlin had to step between lace underwear to get to his bed...he would just try not to think about that.

If anything, he'd learned that Arthur Pendragon was not that much of a dickwad. Merlin didn't know why, but he found the thought comforting.