"Destiny is no matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for: it is a thing to be achieved." - William Jennings Bryant
A dead Guide was just the beginning of it.
Leon reported that the Institute initially had no idea a Guide had been assaulted. The first sign that anything appeared wrong was when Sentinel Harper suddenly collapsed in the middle of a crowded room. He was rushed to the hospital, but it to no avail. He died shortly after arriving at the ER, and any resuscitation attempt proved futile.
Two hours ago, a witness report came in stating a Guide trauma nurse had burst into uncontrollable tears, when the Sentinel was brought in. Upon further questioning, she claimed that his bond had been broken, and the grief and outrage that had erupted from the broken bond had been overwhelming.
Jesus Christ. Attacking a Guide was one thing, but forcibly breaking a bond? That was a whole other level of unforgivable. If Arthur hadn't wanted these scumbags before, he sure as hell as wanted them now. Every Sentinel within a hundred mile radius was foaming at the mouth to bring down the anonymous assailant.
An hour and a half ago, the official police report on the assault had come in. The Guide had been walking home from a friend's, when she was jumped by at least three people. Her body was found in an alleyway, one street over from her house.
But it gets better, Arthur thought sourly.
Forty-five minutes ago, the team returned to report back. The Sentinels assigned to pursue the assailants had been entirely useless. Whoever these attackers were they knew what they were dealing with, and broke a bottle of clove essential oil at the scene of the crime to mask their scent, making it impossible to track them.
That had been the last significant report. The autopsy wouldn't be completed until tomorrow. There was nothing to be done until then. Seven hours had passed since the initial discovery of the deceased Sentinel-Guide pair, and they were no closer to catching those sick bastards. Arthur sighed frustrated, dropping the last report a top the others spread across the table before him. He had hoped that reviewing everything might shed some new light on the matter. But no such luck, it all looked exactly the same.
Hours had past, and they had done nothing to retaliate. Arthur hated this feeling of inadequacy. He picked up the witness report again; forcing himself reread it, focusing on the words in front of him, on the curve of the letter "e", on the contrast between the uneven edge of the black ink and the stark white paper…
"–thur!"
The world rushed back into place around him, suddenly aware of the sounds of people working around him, of the multiple dial tones on several phones, the smell of stale sweat, the sound of footsteps, the smell of cheap coffee, the feel of his unforgiving plastic chair, the irritating glare of the fluorescent lights and computer screens. The entire makeshift headquarters snapped back into focus. Dazed, Arthur searched for the source of the voice, merely to find Gaius directly in front of him.
The Guide had been ghostly pale when Arthur found him. Arthur stared at him now. He looked much better. Completely composed, as if nothing had happened, looking to be the ideal professional in every way except for the looming sadness that haunted his eyes.
Arthur willed his mind to stop wandering, still reeling from the fugue, and struggling to restrain the inflow of sensory stimulus. Gaius watched him closely, a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Welcome back," he said kindly, "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, fine," Arthur replied distractedly.
"I'm afraid you zoned,"
"So it would seem," Arthur said tiredly.
"You should get some rest," Gaius urged.
"No, I'm fine – " Arthur started, simply to be cut short by his father.
"Arthur, you should do what he says," Uther appeared concerned, possibly worried, more likely embarrassed by his son's weakness.
"It won't happen again. I'm fine," Arthur declared, "Just a bit tired is all."
"Arthur, I really must insist," said Gaius.
"Resting won't stop them," Arthur argued vehemently.
"You, constantly zoning, won't help either!" Uther shouted, "You're uselessly to me like this. Go home and rest."
"Yes, Prime Alpha," Arthur replied stiffly.
Mechanically, he sorted the reports into their files, and then packed them away in his briefcase. He grabbing his coat he made for the door. By the time he exited, the room had recovered from its stunned silence, and began to converse in hushed whispers.
Unease rolled off the building like snow in an avalanche. Merlin approached The Pendragon House for Guides, just as the early morning sun broke over the top of the roof. The House had never been so agitated before. Merlin checked his shields, and steeled himself for a bunch of panicky empaths. This is going to be one hell of a visit. He thought as he pushed through the large double doors, squeezing himself and his large basket between them.
He had seen some Sentinels hanging about the entrance of the building, but now that he was inside, Merlin realized that nearly every Sentinel in the city could now be found in the lobby of the House; all milling about aimlessly obviously needing a task to distract them, but unwillingly to stray far from their Guides. The restlessness and anxiousness of so many bodies in such an enclosed space hit him like a brick to the face. Make that several bricks. His shields remained intact but it did cause Merlin's steps to falter on his way to the front desk.
Seems like Guides aren't the only ones shaken up about last night. Merlin thought as he approached the large reception desk at the back of the room, situated directly between two large sets of double-doors. He smiled wanly at Rhonda as he squeezed and pushed his way through the thick crowd mingling in the lobby. Her eyes screamed relief at the sight of him.
"Thank goodness you're here," she said, "Perhaps you can talk some sense into these brutes." She gestured to the Sentinels who suddenly took great interest in the wallpaper and potted plants.
Merlin laughed, and set his basket on the counter.
"Don't see how a scrawny kid like me could do much," he replied.
The secretary threw her hands in the air. "They are clogging up my lobby, and I have tried telling them, they are not helping," she started collecting the visitor paperwork and continued, "They only thing they are accomplishing by bumming about in my reception area is causing those poor guides more grief with all this nervous, useless energy." She then glared at the closest group of Sentinels for good measure. Some of them had enough decency to blush embarrassedly.
Satisfied, Rhonda handed the papers and identity badge to Merlin, who then signed the forms and clipped the ID to the front of his tan leather jacket.
Rhonda took back the forms and sighed, "At least, you're here now. Perhaps your infamous sweets can calm down our resident empaths. I'm sure the girls will appreciate the treats and sense of normalcy."
"I'll do what I can," Merlin said, "And hey, who knows, maybe I can convince one of the Knights to chase off all these goons." He smiled good-naturedly, though some of the surrounding Sentinels looked rather perturbed at the thought.
Rhonda made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.
"Yes, please." Came her soft, exasperated reply.
Merlin smiled one last time at the tough as nails secretary, before turning and walking towards the left set of double doors. After several well-worn twists and turns, he found himself at the door to the common area, guarded by two security officers stationed on either side of the door.
"Hold it."
The guard on the right had raised his arm to halt Merlin. Obviously hired on as extra security, since nearly everyone at the House recognized Merlin. He stopped, and eyed the guards carefully. The first one inspected his ID tag, while the other frisked him briefly.
"What are you doing here?" asked the first guard; he was older and clearly more experienced than his young partner. Said partner was currently rooting around Merlin's basket for viable threats. Merlin almost considered rolling his eyes at that.
"I'm from Emerys Sweets. I bring candies and desserts here every Friday," Merlin answered.
"All clear, sir," the greenhorn declared, handing the basket back to Merlin.
"Understood," the older guard nodded, before turning back to the stranger in front of him, "It's Thursday. What are you doing here?" His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Feeling slightly irritated at being treated like a potential kidnapper, Merlin curtly replied, "I was watching the news, and when I learned what had happened, I figured I could help the empaths by bringing them something to cheer them up."
The guard stared a moment longer, before saying, "Alright. Let him through." Then turned to speak into his radio headset, as Merlin brushed past him and into the room.
Before he could take two steps, he was caught in a crushing embrace. It took a moment to process what was happening before he realized there was only one person he knew with the color of curly brown hair that swamped his field of vision .
"Hi, Gwen," he choked out in greeting.
"Oh!" Gwen hastily let go, and backed up a few paces, "I'm so sorry, it's just – I'm so glad to see you. Everyone has been so afraid. I just – I'm happy to see another one of my friends isn't hurt."
"No worries," Merlin chuckled. He set his basket on the floor, and when he looked up he saw Morgana striding his way.
"Oh Merlin!" She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck, "It's been horrible!"
He wrapped his arms around her and returned the hug. She pulled back to stand beside Gwen; her face pinched with concern around her eyes and the corners of her mouth, so that even while smiling, the joy looked forced and hollow.
"Please tell me you brought your famous 'Chocoholic Chocolate'. I need a serious pick me up – and so does everyone else for that matter," she pleaded.
Merlin reached down into his basket and pulled out at prettily wrapped package full of an assortment of chocolates. He gave it to Morgana, "Have I ever let you down?" he teased. She nearly snatched the bag out of his hands, digging into the sweets with childish delight that momentarily erased the tension on her face.
Merlin reached down once again, and produced a bag a caramels. He gave them to a slightly startled Gwen. After the look of surprise faded, a warm smile and chocolate brown eyes that shone with gratitude took its place.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Merlin basked in the feelings of his two friends; it was a welcomed reprieve from all the trepidation that smothered the House.
He was about to pick up his basket and head over to the other Guides, but a delicate touch on his arm from Morgana stopped him. He turned to her, and with a small amount of amusement saw chocolate smeared at the corner of her mouth. He looked at her, silently asking her why.
"Don't go over there," she answered, "Uther's having a fit, and might actually break your arm if you get to close to anyone else."
Curious at the gravity in her tone, Merlin looked farther into the room and noticed nearly all of the empaths were corralled into the main seating area, nervously perched on the edge of couches and chairs – some even sat on the floor. And around them stalked Uther; pacing like a caged animal, waiting to lash out, and strike something.
"Best wait, until Gaius gets here," Morgana murmured, hunting around for more chocolate from her bag.
Absently, Merlin nodded his agreement, moving to stand next to the wall with Gwen and Morgana, carefully watching the Prime Alpha, and settling in to wait.
Arthur walked down the hall beside Gaius, neither spoke, each too lost in their thoughts to carry a decent conversation. As they neared the door, Arthur extended his registered their footsteps, cast aside the information, letting it fade into an indistinguishable background sound, and moved forward. He heard the breath of the guards in front of the door, dismissing that, he moved forward still, searching for the Guides to ease his frayed nerves. Finally he located them, in the center of the room, hearts beating a little quicker than normal, but otherwise fine. Surrounding them was his father's familiar tread.
Arthur began to pull back satisfied everyone was safe. But before he could, a familiar voice caught his attention within the room,
«… need a serious pick me up - and so does everyone else for that matter.»
Morgana, Arthur thought as the voice clicked into place, Thank gods she's safe. A surge relief abated the knot in his chest, as he listened to his adoptive sister's voice.
«Have I ever let you down?» a new voice added to the mix.
Who's she talking with? Arthur thought immediately on edge again. He didn't recognize the voice, and a stranger at the heart his territory in the same room as the Guides was to be remedied immediately. Picking up his pacing and ignoring Gaius's confused calls, Arthur hurried towards the common area.
Arthur bangs open the door and scans the room looking for the intruder and finding him on the other side of the room, standing between Gwen and Morgana. His shoulder rested against the wall behind him causing his tall frame to slant accentuating the leanness. Dark black hair, well-defined cheekbones, and gray blue eyes, made for a striking combination resulting in an unusual sort of beauty. Not that Arthur would notice such things about a potential threat, but a physical description is important when reporting to the authorities.
Just as he's about to confront the not attractive stranger, when he's intercepted by his father who demanded a progress report.
"Still no new leads, and the tracking team hasn't had any luck," Arthur starts stumbling at the rapid change of course. "The police called about twenty minutes ago. The autopsy is finished and the official report should be ready soon."
Before Uther could harass him for more information, Gaius stepped in to ask about empaths' condition. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, as uther was successfully sidetracked. Gaius turned back and smiled - a small, knowing grin. Arthur mouthed a silent thank you to the good doctor, before focusing again on the mysterious stranger, as he began to stalk to across the room.
"So, when did think the Great Uther will allow me to see them?" Sarcasm dripped off the strangers whispered words.
"Be quiet!" Gwen shushed, "He is still a Sentinel. He will hear you."
"What's he gonna do?" the man replied cheekily, grinning over his shoulder, "Eat me? How about eat my sweets?"
Morgana snorted she stifled her laughter. "Oh, I'd pay to see that," she whispered back.
The response stopped Arthur's approach short. Plenty of people were friends with Gwen, it was hard to dislike her, but people barely dared to talk to Morgana, must like less joke with her.
"Care to make a wager?" the man leaned forward conspiratorially, "I bet I can make Uther eat my candy."
Morgana tore her gaze away from the spectacle that was Uther Pendragon to look at him. Her sharp eyes sized him up for a brief moment, before the two of them grinned mischievously.
"You're on," she said, "Uther has to eat at least six of your candies, before the end of the day."
"Three," he countered, "Winner gets first pick at the TV all day, Friday."
"Four candies."
"Deal."
"Prepare yourself, Merlin, for an entire day of Project Catwalk," Morgana said smugly.
Arthur stared on in shock as he watched his sister and the stranger shake on a bet to get his father to eat sugar, his father, the Prime Alpha of the city, the most widely feared and respected Sentinel in the UK.
Just as Arthur picked his jaw up from the floor, Gaius called out, "Merlin! There you are. Quit dawdling." The strange man - Merlin - scooped up the basket lying near his feet and walked over to Gaius, to start assisting him.
Collecting his scattered thoughts once again, Arthur finished crossing the room to glare at Morgana menacingly.
"Oh, hello, Arthur."
It didn't work, but really it was the principal of the thing.
"Who was that?" he demanded.
"I know you're manners are atrocious, but really Arthur, you can't even be bothered to say 'hello'."
"Fine. Hello Morgana," he grit out, before switching to a more pleasant tone, "Gwen, it's good to see you."
"You as well," Gwen replied sweetly.
"Who was that, Morgana?"
"Who, Merlin?" she said with an air of false innocence.
Arthur just glared at her mulishly until she continued. Morgana rolled her eyes at him, "I actually surprised you don't know him. He bring us sweets every Friday. Sometimes he stops by more often than that."
"He hangs out with Lancelot," Gwen chimed in, "I mean, when he's not here, and when Lance's not working and all."
"Relax, Arthur," Morgana said, "You don't have to defend our maidenly virtue."
Arthur sputtered, "I hardly think there is anything virtuous about you, much less maidenly."
Morgana scoffed, "I won't even begin to dignify that with a response."
Arthur looked back at this Merlin. He currently talking softly to one of the younger Guides as Gaius held a stethoscope to his chest. The boy sniffled, close to tears but trying to hide it. Merlin dug around in his basket to pull out a large lollipop with a dazzling grin. The boy gave him a watery smile in return and eagerly unwrapped the treat, as Merlin and Gaius moved on to the next patient.
"How does he know Gaius?" Arthur asked quietly, unable to leave well enough alone.
Morgana sighed, like she was being extremely generous by answering his questions. "Apparently Gaius knew him as a little kid. He was actually the one who suggested Merlin bring candy to the House."
"Huh."
It was strangely comforting to watch Merlin work. Arthur felt something in him slowly unwinding as Merlin and Gaius made their way through all of the empaths, handing out sweets and checking their health. It was amazing to watch the way each of them opened up to Merlin; they smiled a little more with him, and a few even laughed stress of yesterday's incident gradually faded away with every taffy, chocolate, and lollipop that was passed out.
Arthur felt someone staring at him, and when he turned to look he saw a little girl with watching him avidly with big brown eyes. She continued to stare at him, and just as he was about to say something, she darted away.
She ran over to where Merlin was kneeling on the floor, packing empty wrappers into his basket. She stood on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear, a small hand cupped to her mouth. Merlin leaned to hear better, then turned to look at her. He raised an eyebrow in question, the little girl simply pointed at Arthur and Merlin followed her finger.
The moment their eyes locked, it felt like a bolt of lightning struck Arthur. The world froze, and time slowed, and all Arthur could think about beside horrible clichés was how he would like to see those eyes everyday for the rest of his life.
It was understandably jarring, when his father shoved him towards the door and the world started spinning again.
"Gaius is finished. We're heading to the morgue to get the coroner's report," Uther informed him, as he struggled to reorient himself; helpless to resist being manhandled out the door. Fifteen minutes later at the morgue, Arthur still couldn't get the strange man with the goofy smile and basket of sweets out of his head.