A/N; This is a AU, slash fic. I have never written a total AU before, so there is great potential for this to be a complete and utter failure, and I apologise now for any OOC moments/impropable plot lies. Well, the whole plot line is improbable and rediculously contrived, but I am rambling, so, it would be great if people would tell me what they think.
Disclaimer: Um, yeah, because I totally own the rights to Merlin, and am so not a penniless student. If I could make money out of this, it would be brilliant, but I'm not.
Roommates
Part 1
Sunday
When Merlin awoke to his new room, that Sunday lunchtime, he didn't know his whole world was about to be turned upside down. He had moved into his new Halls of Residence at the University of Camelot, the previous day, and had already unpacked the suitcase and rucksack he had brought with him.
Merlin came from a small, rural village called Ealdor, about 4 hours on the train, to the north of the city of Camelot, and that was how he had travelled to the prestigious university. He could only afford to go there because he had been awarded a scholarship. His family's meagre lifestyle had never even crossed his mind before, it was all he was used to, but it had meant that he was in the least expensive Halls of Residence, Castle Hall, where self-catered rooms were shared, and arranged into flats.
He hadn't yet met his roommate, presuming that man was arriving later that day, but he had already met one of his fellow residents in the communal flat. He had met Guinevere the previous afternoon, when he had been packing away the supplies he had purchased from a local supermarket. They had shared dinner, the only two residents of the flat to move in on the Saturday, and Merlin had quickly learnt that Gwen, as she preferred to be called, was quiet and shy, but was extremely perceptive and had a quick sense of humour. She was studying English - a completely different choice of degree to Merlin's own study of Medicine – and had lived in the city her whole life.
Merlin suddenly remembered that Gwen had offered to show him around the city – the parts the university tours won't show you, she had said – at 2pm. Glancing at the clock on his mobile phone, he realised he had slept until almost half past 1, and rushed around frantically, so that, when Gwen knocked on his door at precisely 2 o'clock, he was dressed and vaguely presentable; he'd work out how to use the showers that evening.
When Arthur awoke, that morning, he was still in his old room, at Pendragon House. The room was large, the king-size bed comfortable, and here, he had everything he needed. He wondered if the bed he slept in that night would be anywhere near as nice.
His father, Chancellor of the University of Camelot, had decided that Arthur was going to forgo his privileged lifestyle, for one year only, and spend his fresher year living in Castle Hall. Castle Hall! Castle Hall was a dump, the cheapest, scummiest accommodation Camelot had to offer. Whilst most students were housed in comfortable, modest sized rooms in renovated parts of Camelot's sprawling campus, Castle Hall had not been redecorated in 20 years. And in Castle Hall, the rooms for Freshers were shared.
Arthur had never shared anything in his life, let alone a room. OK, he had shared his bed on several occasions, but never for more than one night at a time. He had been brought up to a life of wealth and privilege, rarely having to do anything for himself. And no he was going to have to cook and clean for himself. Hopefully, his roommate would turn into a sucker who would do all that for him.
Even Arthur's packing had been completed for him, by the servants his father employed. Arthur was taking a lot of 'stuff' with him to Halls, a TV, complete with DVD player and Games Console, a Stereo, a Computer and many, many games, DVDs, even the odd book, and almost the entire contents of his substantial wardrobe. Arthur had always had a large amount of 'stuff', it wasn't that he himself was particularly materialistic, it was that his father's answer to the lack of time they spent together, was to constantly buy him things, or increase his allowance.
Arthur's mother, Igraine, had died from eclampsia, shortly after Arthur had been born, and his father, Arthur felt, had never forgiven him. Uther had thrown himself into his work at the University, and all but left his son to be raised by a succession of nursemaids, before sending him away to school, at age 8. Those ten years spent mostly away from home had left Arthur strong willed and independent, but he had lacked any parental recognition, even when he had managed to get into Camelot, the toughest, and best, university in the country. Perhaps our blond haired adolescent, nicknamed 'Prince' by his schoolmates, on account of his regal, arrogant nature, would have been softer, kinder, if someone in his life had been there to show him love.
Arthur's father wasn't even there to see Arthur off, or accompany him to Flat G, Castle Hall. Neither was the roommate with whom he would be sharing Room G2, but there was evidence, from the unmade bed, the open wardrobe and a messy chest of drawers, that his roommate had already arrived, and chosen the left hand side of the room. The chauffeur, who had accompanied Arthur, dutifully brought up all of Arthur's things, and deposited them in a large pile in the middle of the room, whilst Arthur poked about the small flat.
The main door of the flat opened into the central kitchen and dining area, with a fridge/freezer, oven, hob, cupboards and plenty of utensils, and a table and six chairs. Off that room there were four further doors with small plaques on them – the bedrooms, G1-4 – and a door that led through to the bathrooms, where there enough showers, baths and toilets to prevent the necessity for queuing. All in all, he thought, the place wasn't too shabby, and the room he had to share wasn't too small. He only hoped his roommate was an alright sort of guy, and set about unpacking his things.
Sitting in a café, less than 10 minutes away from Halls, were Merlin and Gwen. She had a coffee, he a hot chocolate, both trying to stave off an early autumn chill, which was blowing through the city late that afternoon. Gwen really did know Camelot like the back of her hand, having lived there all her life, and she had showed Merlin around the city centre, focusing especially on the areas the university tours tended to skip over.
"The students and the city folk don't tend to mix. Most of the students are from wealthy families, unbearably posh, but the city really isn't that well off." Gwen had told Merlin about her father, who worked in a factory.
"So what do your friends think about you coming here, then?"
"Well, it's a scholarship, and we're in Castle, so they think I'm just about alright to be seen with. As long as I don't go for Avalon, or anything."
Merlin looked confused. "What's Avalon?"
Gwen laughed, she liked how naïve Merlin was. "Avalon's this secret society, only it's not really secret. Basically it's for the richest and poshest students in the university, snobs basically, and they have parties and the old members help them get jobs and stuff. Apparently they're really wild, but they're extremely powerful within the university. Uther Pendragon, the Chancellor, he used to be one, so they get away with murder."
Merlin laughed.
"No, literally. They got away with murder, three years ago; they drowned a girl, couple of years above me at school. And got away with it."
"Why?"
"Because they could. Mean bastards." Gwen was obviously shocked, and Merlin made a mental note to avoid any one in that club. They probably wouldn't take too kindly to him. Still, he had ways of making their lives misery if they did.
They made their way, slowly, back to their Halls. Gwen and Merlin had become firm friends already, but both were wary of who their respective roommates might be. When they eventually reached the front door of flat G, they could hear music, and laughter coming from the other side. Merlin raised an eyebrow, as he unlocked the door.
"Hi!" A pale skinned, brunette girl practically bounced towards them, obviously slightly tipsy. "I'm Morgana."
"Merlin," he replied, offering his hand, moving it into a casual wave, when she neglected to take it.
"Gwen," she said as she smiled, and walked over to her room to dump her coat.
"Oh, so you're my roommate."
Merlin watched for a second as the two girls became acquainted, before walking towards his own room. There was a tall, muscular, blond standing in the kitchen area, watching him, but no pleasantries were exchanged as Merlin removed his coat and threw it onto his bed. When he took a second to look around the room, he was amazed. His roommate was, quite clearly, loaded. There was an expensive TV, stereo and computer, easily within view, and his roommate also appeared to have so many clothes, they didn't all fit into his wardrobe and drawers.
"So, I was wondering if you had any space in your wardrobe."
The lazy drawl, came from behind him. Merlin spun around to see the blond lounging in the doorway.
"You don't appear to be using it."
The other man was right, he wasn't. All his clothes fitted neatly – although they were likely to remain that way – into the small chest of drawers.
Merlin shrugged. "Sure. I'm Merlin, by the way."
"Arthur." The blond nodded. "Arthur Pendragon," he added as an after thought.
Arthur Pendragon he had said, as if adding his surname was so impressive. While some men would have fawned over him, knowing who his father was, truthfully, he wouldn't want to live with a man like that. He watched as Merlin, his roommate, simply nodded at the information, and pulled his ringing phone out of his pocket, with a half smile. "Hi Mum." Momentarily, Arthur felt that pang of sorrow that he had never been able to say those words, but he quickly suppressed it, looking over, instead, to the kitchen area, where a timer was ringing.
"Morgana!" he shouted, summoning the pretty brunette, and her equally pretty roommate, Gwen. Morgana had prepared a lasagne, a good thing or Arthur would have had to resort to eating take away pizza; he didn't know how to cook. The lasagne certainly looked a lot more appetising than if he had attempted to cook it. That meal began Arthur's realisation that this year was going to be a lot harder than he had bargained for. Still, he wasn't planning to concede any point to his father, just yet.
Gwen speedily laid the table, and poured out three glasses. This required the opening of a second bottle – between Morgana and Arthur, they had already consumed an entire bottle. Morgana was already acting quite tipsy, as she dished out. The lasagne was, in fact, big enough for four portions, a fact Morgan realised, just as Merlin was poking his head out of their door.
"Come over, Merlin, there's plenty to go around," carolled Morgana, and Merlin took a seat at the table, Gwen pouring him a glass of the wine. Arthur wasn't yet sure what he thought about his lanky roommate. He seemed a little gawky, certainly very messy, probably quite clumsy, and pretty naïve, but there seemed to be some intelligence behind those blue eyes. Arthur realised he was watching him, as the dinner wore on.
Their conversation, however, was very stilted, at least until the wine began to have an effect, eventually loosening Merlin and Gwen's tongue, for they were more reluctant to talk. Conversation, as it frequently does, between strangers, began with the exchanging of information; about their upbringing, about which subject they were studying, about where they were from. All the boring stuff really.
Arthur already knew Morgana; she was an orphan whose father was a friend of Uther's. Uther had sent her to one of the best girls' schools in the country, but she had spent her holidays with friends, and Arthur had seen little of her growing up. As it turned out, Morgana's decision to study drama at Camelot was a last minute decision, one made when all other available accommodation had been taken up, but she was determined to make the most of her student experience, she asserted, even if that meant living in a dump like Castle Hall. Her comment made Arthur laugh, but it did not provoke conversation from Merlin and Gwen; they were not in Castle Hall by choice, but rather because it was all they could afford.
Gwen was at Camelot on a scholarship to read English. She was from the city, and her father was a metal worker in a factory, in an industrial estate, on the edge of Camelot. She had grown up in Camelot, in a terraced house, on one of the meaner estates, but she knew many of the city's secrets. She had been delighted when she had won a place at the university, for her father had encouraged her to apply. She had expected to get a job, like all her friends, several of whom were now working as cleaning or catering staff at the university, not be given a chance to follow her dreams of writing. There was something about Gwen that made Arthur like her instantly. She had a warmth, and a trusting nature, that shone through her shyness, though that was being somewhat lessoned by the wine.
Merlin, it turned out, was also on a scholarship, although Arthur thought he could have guessed that, by Merlin's lack of possessions. He had grown up, an only child, living with his mother, on the outskirts of a rural village, called Ealdor, several hours north of Camelot. The wine loosening his tongue, Merlin expressed some concerns about living in a big city, and Arthur saw a glance, and then a smile shared between Gwen and Merlin. It seemed the shy girl was taking him under her wing, somewhat. Merlin also mentioned he had been reluctant to leave his home, his mother and his friends, especially one boy called Will.
"So, why did you leave?" Morgana had asked Merlin.
"I never felt like I quite fitted in, at home, like I was different, like I belonged, except I didn't."
"And you hope you'll fit it here?" Arthur didn't know if he had quite hidden the sneer in his voice, with that remark – he certainly heard it in his head. He hadn't meant it cruelly, but the University of Camelot was notoriously upper middle class – Gwen would have called it snobby – and scholarship students didn't tend to fit in all that well. He was hoping that being in Castle Hall wouldn't be too much of an impairment for him, considering his good family name, and the good school he had attended. But Merlin, Merlin was unlikely to simply 'fit in' here.
The conversation started to flow more freely, the more wine they drank, but then the girls decided to head for bed, leaving Merlin and Arthur with the washing up. Left alone, in the kitchen, they didn't realise quite how much the girls had been catalysing the conversation, and soon fell into an awkward, stilted silence.
"Where did you go to school?" Merlin asked Arthur. It was a question they hadn't covered yet, and Merlin thought it might give them a few minutes talk.
"St Michael's," came the curt reply.
"Oh." Merlin had heard of St Michael's, it was the best fee-paying school in the country, renowned for taking the not-too-bright sons of the extraordinarily wealthy and getting them into the country's top university: Camelot. Those students were also known to be unbearably posh. At least Arthur hadn't proved to be a total prat. Well, he was a prat, and a posh one at that, but at least he didn't seem to be complaining about being in Castle Hall. Actually, why was he in Castle Hall?
"So, why are you in Castle Hall, I mean, you're father's the Chancellor and your family's obviously got enough spare cash, so why are you in the cheap Halls?"
"You think I want to be here? Stuck sharing a room, with a scholarship student, doing my own cooking, my own cleaning?"
Merlin didn't want to comment that Morgana had in fact cooked, and Arthur was now watching him washing up, as opposed to providing any help himself. His small outburst had also served to reinforce Merlin's thought that Arthur was a prat. A fact he mumbled under his breath.
"What?" asked Arthur, not quite hearing Merlin's mumble, a fact he was pleased about.
"Oh, nothing."
Having finished watching Merlin wash up, Arthur walked back over to their room. Merlin wasn't sure why he couldn't have done this sooner, since having Arthur's eyes firmly fixed on him was making him self-conscious. Why did he have to share his room with a prat, and a good looking one at that?
Merlin's thoughts drifted to Arthur's good looks, as he began to wipe the dishes. The pair weren't that different in height, but where Merlin was skinny and gangly, Arthur was muscular and well-built, showing through his loose fitting red t-shirt. Merlin wondered if any one had ever told Arthur that he looked good in red; the colour certainly suited him. And his eyes, when they looked at you, it was as if.
Oh.
No.
It dawned on Merlin suddenly, and with complete comprehension. He had a crush on his roommate. There was no way this was going to end well.
A/N; Reviews would be really gratefully appreciated, especially constructive criticism, and whether or not you think this has any potential whatsoever.
