Hi guys, a new story here! This one will be written alternately by myself (Legs) and my crazy co-author Lacrima, and will be an ongoing AU Merthur experience, which is sort of an experiment in perspective. I'll be writing from Merlin's point of view, and she'll be taking up the role of Arthur. And yes, this WILL be epic. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin. Nor does Lacrima. If we did, the homoerotic tension would be homoerotic action. Enough said.

Ambiguity [Merlin]

It was early one morning, in Spring, and it was a beautiful day indeed. And as I lay in the slightly-wet grass of the local park, I was pondering something of a most serious nature. Usually, I had my sexuality firmly placed in the realms of ambiguity, but on this fine morning, I was planning to take it up a notch. I was considering going gay.

I had brought a mug of hot tea with me to the park, as well as my notebook and a pen, and I made a heading on a fresh new page: "GOING GAY: PROS AND CONS."

I scribbled the word PROS, and underneath it began to make some dot-points.

- Gwen and Morgs would love it

- I'm already half-way there... it's not like my taste in music could be considered STRAIGHT...

- I've never really been interested in girls... not in that way, at least

- Most of my friends are girls – surely that means something?

That seemed like enough for the moment; on the other side of the page I made the heading CONS.

The day was getting hot – it was around six thirty and the sun was just coming up, beating down on me. Mum always says I need more sun. The doctor said it would be fine if I took my tablets like I'm supposed to, but they taste like overcooked liver, the kind that tends to waft its way around the Estate on a Sunday afternoon, just when everyone's grandmothers are towed out of the nursing home around the corner and brought in for lunch.

Looking down at my notebook, I realised I hadn't written anything under CONS yet.

Hesitantly, I put my pen down, beginning a dot point.

- Most of my friends are girls – surely that means something?

Oh, wait, that was already one of my PROS. I scratched it out and put a dash on the next line.

- Arthur would disown me.

Ah. Arthur. Yes. His father is so conservative, if you so much as mention two men alone in the same room around him, he'll burn you at the stake he no doubt keeps hidden in his basement, along with the catapult, the torture-box and the entire Tory party.

But Arthur's alright. He tells me he votes Labour. I don't know whether he's lying or not.

I wondered briefly what Will might think if I flounced up to him one morning, announcing, "how's it going, childhood best friend who I rarely talk to any more because I'm a bit of a ladies' man now, just thought I'd drop by and let you know that I'm batting for the other team, as it happens."

Um, NO. Will would probably disown me too. Ever since he started hanging with the sporty types in high school, we've been growing slowly apart, and now it's come to the point that we don't know what to talk about when we're together. I decided to add another point to the list:

- Will. Enough said.

So, essentially, my points either way boiled down to girls against boys. Gwen and Morgana, my absolute best friends in the ENTIRE world, have been dropping hints my way for a while now. But maybe I'm reading too much into it. I don't know. Anyway, on the other hand, there were my male friends, few and far between as they evidently were. But mainly Arthur. My friendship with Will was probably irredeemable by this stage.

Again, we're left with one real question: what do I value more, my freedom of expression and the overwhelming fact that I really MUST be gay, or my friendship with Arthur?

I decided that if I was going to make a real, considered decision about this, I would need some more time to think about it.

But sometimes things don't go as you planned, and all of a sudden my clunky, welfare-funded lump of a phone began to vibrate jerkily in my pocket, bearing not only a text from Gwen, but the answer to my niggling doubts. It would be Gwen – only she gets up as early as I do.

"Coming 2 airport l8r?" she had typed, and when I read those words, my heart was set aflutter with excitement. Arthur and Morgana, his stepsister, had been overseas for a month in... I don't know, I keep forgetting the name of the place, it's something French and snobby. And that afternoon, they were coming back. Of course, if I went with Gwen to the airport, I would have to spend more than five minutes in the company of Uther Pendragon, the man with the glare of a gorgon who had made something of a habit of turning me to stone. But I figured it would be worth weathering the storm to see Morgana and Arthur.

"Of course!" I replied, texting furiously. And in that moment, my question was answered. Maybe, I thought, I could call myself gay, but ONLY that – I could keep it to myself. And Arthur wouldn't have to suffer in the knowledge that my company was any more embarrassing or detrimental than it had previously been.

I grinned, proud with my morning's work. It was about seven, and I tucked my pen behind my ear, grabbed up my notebook and dashed across the park to our apartment block. As I made it to the top of the stairs, and pulled my keys out of my pocket, I realised that I'd left my tea in the park. Turning sharply, I tumbled headlong down the stairs – if I made it in time, there might not be too many small insects to clean out of the mug before I could finish.

Unfortunately for me, as part of the spell of bad luck that rather seemed to follow me around, the mug had tipped itself over and plunged headlong into the dirt. Great, not only would I not be able to finish my tea, I'd have to clean the damn thing. I picked it up and headed despondently back out of the park and up to the building again.

"Oy, Paddy!" called a sneering voice from nearby. That would be Valiant (known only by his last name), the self-employed bully of the Ealdor Estate. He had taken to calling me Paddy. I suppose it made sense. That is, if you were a racist, anti-Irish bigot. Anyway, my accent isn't MY fault, I got it off my mum.

"What d'you want, Valiant?" I asked angrily, keeping my head down and walking straight ahead. Right into him. I very nearly collided with his torso of iron – thankfully, I stopped myself just in time.

"What you doing out this early, Paddy?"

I looked him in the eye. "What're YOU doing out this early?"

He was momentarily thrown off-guard, but I knew that wouldn't last long. Excusing myself, I sidestepped him and made my way hastily-but-not-obviously-so up the staircase back to our flat. He threw a "FUCK YOU!" at me as I scarpered.

Mum had just gotten up, and she was sitting at the table with a steaming mug of coffee. She groaned when she saw the state of my mug.

"Merlin," she berated, "what happened to that mug?"

I shrugged. "The park happened."

She shook her head. "Next time you go out there, take an older one. We need the good one for when your friends come 'round."

She was exaggerating. My friends barely EVER come 'round, I go to them. Usually we'll just meet up at Gwen's place, because far be it from Saint Uther to allow the lower-class scum into his castle fortress. And by lower-class scum, I mean ME. Gwen is middle-class, I think. I don't think Morgana could care less if we came over to hers, and I'm sure Gwen MUST sometimes, but Arthur's far too eager to please his father, and abides by his wishes. Or maybe he's just a prat like that. I'm not sure.

"What were you doing out in the park this early anyway?" mum interrogated as I began to was the cup.

"Stuff," I replied ambiguously. I could almost FEEL her rolling eyes burning into the back of my head.

"Anyway," she said, changing the topic, "what're your plans for today? If you're not too busy, I thought we could pop down to the markets, and—"

"Sorry, mum, I've got plans. Morgana and Arthur come back from whatsit today, and Gwen and I're going to meet them at the airport."

"Provence?" she added helpfully.

"That's the place," I muttered. "But don't worry about me, you go alone."

"Anything you want me to pick up for you?"

I shrugged, putting the cup on the wire rack to dry. "Dunno. I've got a bit of a craving for a raspberry brownie, though..."

She laughed. "I'll see what I can do, Merl."

"Thanks, mum," I said with a grin, patting her on the shoulder as I made my way to the bathroom to have a shower.

Later that day, I caught the bus down to Gwen's house – it's not a far ride – from where her dad was going to drive us to the airport.

"Merlin!" she squealed as I came up her path, "guess what?"

"What?"

"I just got an email from Morgs!"

"What was she doing sending an email from the plane?"

"Duh, she sent it at the airport before they left"

"And what were you doing checking your email so early?"

"Just felt like it," she said with a shrug. "Anyway, listen. She says to let you know that she and Arthur have bought some gifts back for you. Like, souvenirs."

I felt a blush rising in my cheeks. I didn't need their charity. It was embarrassing – when we go out, they often offer to pay for me, like I don't have any money of my own. I get a meagre income from working at the pharmacy, and I can afford to pay for a cup of tea, thanks.

"Nothing big, silly," Gwen said, picking up on my tone immediately, "just some little things. And she wants to know if you're free on Monday night for her birthday party."

"She's having a birthday party? So soon after getting back?"

"Of course! So do you think you can make it?"

I thought for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I'd be able to get off work early."

"Great," she said, slapping me on the back. Just then, her father came out of the door to start up the car. He waved a greeting at me.

"This is so exciting, isn't it?" Gwen said as we got into the car.

"Sure is," I replied, "I can't wait to see them. S'rubbish that they've got no reception in France. Can't they bloody afford roaming?"

"I always get the feeling that Sir Uther confiscates their phones. And computers. And all that. I think he likes the idea of a holiday without technology."

"I bet he bloody uses his Blackberry or iPhone or whatever he has these days anyway. Hypocrite."

Gwen laughed. "Oh, come on. He's got some handsome genes in him, at least. I mean, he may be an utter bastard, but how can someone with such a hot son be ALL evil?"

"Arthur? HOT?"

"Oh, come on, Merlin, you can't deny his incredible good looks."

I paused for a moment. I'd never really thought about how Arthur looked. But I supposed that now I was gay, I should give it some consideration. But I found I couldn't really think of him that way. I mean, this is ARTHUR we're talking about – Arthur, the world's biggest prat; Arthur, the loaded daddy's boy; Arthur... who, I realised with a start, was the best-looking person I knew.

"I don't know," I responded truthfully.

So did you like it? Hanging on tenterhooks for the next chapter? (I know I am!) Whatever you thought, leave a review! They're like drugs, alcohol, and reading fan fiction when you should be doing homework - ADDICTIVE.

- Legs