After hours of restlessly tossing and turning with very little actual sleep occurring, Arthur found himself being awoken, his shoulder being shook roughly. Squinting and noticing that the accursed lights were on once again, Arthur saw Merlin leaning down over him with tired eyes, although they looked alight with something unnamable.
"Rise and shine," Merlin said with a scratchy voice. "Breakfast in twenty. Gwen's cooking, thank the Lord. Apparently you merit the fantastic gift that is her pancakes."
"Lovely," Arthur groaned as he slid his feet onto the floor, rising to his feet next to Merlin, who was dressed in the same hoodie he had been wearing the night before.
"Did Kilgharrah bother you at all?" Merlin asked as he leaned against Arthur's bedpost for support. It seemed Merlin liked mornings about as much as Arthur did. "If he did, I can throw him in the washing machine again. That always makes for good amusement."
"That's animal cruelty," Arthur felt the need to point out as he stumbled over to the bathroom door. "But I suppose you're not particularly worried about being arrested for it."
Merlin's lip twitched. "Not particularly."
"Anything specific I need for today?" Arthur asked.
Merlin shook his head. "Don't think so. We have both Morgana and Freya's files downstairs for you, along with that picture of the two of them together. Just dress up nice; a suit and tie will do. Not that it'll be a problem for you, Mr. Hotshot Lawyer."
A smirk played on Merlin's lips as Arthur glared in his general direction. "Don't you have to go get ready, too? You know; magical disguises and all that?"
"Oh, right," Merlin looked as if he'd momentarily forgotten his responsibility, for his forehead creased and eyes went wider. "I'll leave you to it, then."
He disappeared into the dimly lit hallway a moment later. Slipping off his seats, Arthur pulled a white button down and a black suit jacket with matching pants out of his duffle bag. He grabbed a golden checkered tie, too, heeding Merlin's advice. After all, they would need to make a good impression.
After prepping himself for the day, Arthur headed out into the hallway to find it entirely devoid of humans, all of its doors closed tight. He assumed many of the house's inhabitants were still asleep; it was probably very early here in America. He wasn't sure when he and Merlin were scheduled to meet with Aredian, other than that it was closer to dawn than noon.
Walking down the narrow staircase, Arthur steeled himself for confronting the masses. Careening right into the kitchen, however, he was met only be Gaius, Gwen, and Morgana sitting around the large wooden circular table he had seen briefly the day before. Each of them had a plate stacked high with buttery, syrupy golden pancakes. Arthur's mouth watered instantly; he was starving.
Thankfully, Morgana held up a fourth plate as she saw him approaching. "Morning. We have the food of the gods in here, but you'll have to hurry or I'll eat them all for you."
"Don't you dare," Arthur strode purposefully into the kitchen, grabbing his plate from Morgana's outstretched hand, stabbing one of the pancakes viciously with the fork she handed him a moment later. He took his first bite as he sunk into the chair opposite his sister; the taste was light and airy, maple dancing across his taste buds. He moaned loudly.
"Gwen, these are heavenly," he told her. She smiled at him and murmured a soft thank you. "Merlin was right when he said these were a gift."
"Is Merlin treating you nicely?" Gaius spoke up as he set down his fork. "He's been in a perpetually bad mood for over a week now."
"He's been in a perpetually bad mood for most of his life now," Morgana corrected, scoffing. "Not that I don't love him for it, because I do. He's just a bastard sometimes."
"Really?" Arthur asked, surprised, not seeing Merlin's cheerful smile and teasing attitude in anything they were saying. "He seems…I dunno, nice. Friendly."
"He is," Gwen reassured him. Morgana just snorted while Gwen sent her a mocking glare. "He's just dealt with a lot in his life, and losing Freya is really bothering him. She's like his little sister."
Arthur nodded in understanding. If Merlin felt for Freya the way he felt for Morgana, he could definitely see why he wouldn't be in the greatest state of mind. It made him wonder why he was treating Arthur with such open friendliness; was he just being polite to his friend's brother, or was there something about Arthur himself? The second idea warmed him unexpectedly, but he dismissed it out of hand.
He opened his mouth to ask once more about Freya's capture, but the sound of approaching footsteps stopped him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed an unfamiliar face make its way from the door leading up the stairs toward the group in the kitchen. His muscles tensed as he looked at the newcomer, an involuntary reaction.
The stranger looked to be a bit shorter than Arthur, well-built with long, nearly shoulder-length silky brown hair with a matching beard and moustache duo, wearing a suit similar to his own, only less trendy. He had a peculiar expression on his face; Arthur would swear up and down that he vaguely recognized it, but he couldn't quite put his finger on the familiarity of the man. When the person spoke, however, Arthur received his answer.
"I hate turning into Gwaine. Hate it. He always sends me disgusting text messages about wanking while I'm wearing his body. It's rather sickening."
"Merlin?" Arthur couldn't help but gape. He gave a sideways glance at his three comrades at the table, but each of them continued eating their pancakes, expressions unchanged. Master of disguise indeed. The ruse was impeccable; the man standing in front of him couldn't possibly be Merlin; Arthur could barely tell that he wasn't the person that he appeared to be. He surveyed the other man closely as he pulled out the chair next to Arthur, reaching for a fork and stabbing a pancake off of Gaius's plate as if he was wielding a sword.
"The very same," Merlin said as he swallowed. His voice was different now, the tone higher and the accent classier. Arthur could barely detect the hint of Welsh he had heard less than a half an hour before. He definitely did not care for this new appearance. "Aren't I impressive?"
"No," Arthur lied. "You'll be impressive after we escape our meeting with Aredian with both of our heads intact."
"Speaking of Aredian, we must discuss the details of your appointment," Gaius straightened his spine as he passed Arthur a yellow manila folder that had previously been sitting on his lap. Paging through it, Arthur found not only the blurry photo of Morgana and Freya together that he had been promised the previous day, but also a thick packet of papers stapled together with Morgana's name and picture in the corner. Behind it was an identical stack, only with the name Freya Brook, a slight, dark-haired girl with a nervous smile.
"Now, Aredian is the toughest in the business – His nickname is the Witchfinder. You'll have to be very careful in order to fool him," Gaius gave Merlin a sideways glance. The disguised warlock nodded in affirmation as he took another pancake. Arthur did the same. If this was going to be his last meal, at least it was a delicious one.
"He shouldn't be able to tell of Merlin's disguise," Gaius kept on. "But rest assured he'll look into Gwaine's history with great detail. I know you've gone into the Anti-Magic Department as Gwaine before, Merlin, but you've never had an encounter with someone this high up on the totem pole. He'll be looking into your history as well, Arthur," he added. "He will dig up any information that they can find on you to research the legitimacy of your claim."
"And my claim is of Freya's connections to Morgana?" Arthur felt the need to clarify as he glanced briefly at his sister, whose expression had remained neutral this entire time. "And I want her brought to London for extensive questioning?"
"Precisely," Gaius confirmed. "You should, however, have an advantage what with your father's position."
Arthur's stomach churned unpleasantly at the comment.
Merlin, somehow, seemed to sense this, or after sparing a worried look at Arthur, he turned back to Gaius, asking "And how do we explain Arthur's connection to Gwaine?"
"Gwaine is in London right now with Percival, is he not?" Gaius asked. "He just finished up with helping that Elena Gawant with that pixie problem. We can just say he and Arthur ran across each other there and Arthur hired him to aid in this case."
"Clever," Morgana joined the conversation. "But are we forgetting anything? There can't be any loopholes."
"What about Arthur's sudden interest in Morgana?" Gwen asked with a thoughtful tone. "Why look for her now after so many years of silence?"
Arthur felt a stab of guilt. He knew that Gwen didn't mean to be provoking or accusatory with her comment, but it tore at Arthur anyway. He attempted shrugging it off, offhandedly making the comment "I'll just say that I had a discussion with a coworker who reminded me of the dangers magic presents to society and they inspired me to search for Morgana in order to protect humanity from her."
Morgana swatted the back of his head, which kind of hurt, since she was wearing three or four silver rings. "Bastard!"
"What? It's very believable!" Arthur protested. "You heard Uther spiel shit like that all of the time. It's not like I believe it." His eyes met Merlin's momentarily as if he was reassuring him, which was a bit insane, seeing as how he'd known him for less than a day; but Merlin's newly brown eyes, no longer their striking blue, seemed to understand the odd purpose behind the look, for he smiled softly.
After a few moments of slightly awkward silence as the last of the pancakes mysteriously vanished into everyone's stomachs, Gaius cleared his throat. "You two should best be on your way. Your meeting starts at eight o'clock sharp and it's just past seven. The subway may be crowded."
Arthur pushed his chair back as he rose to his feet, Merlin mimicking his actions as the other man gestured toward the empty expanse of white wall before them. "Ready for everyone's favorite excuse for a doorway?"
Arthur groaned, remembering yesterday's horrible experience getting inside. A part of him was very, very glad that Merlin had not seen his less than exemplary performance upon arrival yesterday. "Same way we got in?"
"Unfortunately," Merlin said with a slight eye roll. "We're technically being shrunken down to tiny little people when we go through the door, so it has to be unpleasant."
"Shrunken down?" Arthur repeated, trying to ignore his insides squirming at the thought of all that magic contaminating him. "So does that mean it's bigger on the inside?"
Merlin laughed outright. It didn't look nearly as good on Gwaine's face as it did on his own. In a direct contrast to his tinkling laughter, Morgana groaned loudly; Gaius and Gwen just shook their heads in mild amusement.
"Merlin makes that joke at least once a day," Morgana informed him tartly. "You've just found the doorway to his iron, stone cold heart."
"Stop spoiling my reputation!" Merlin groaned as he flexed his fingers ever so slightly. "C'mere, Arthur, let's get out of here before Morgana tells more lies about me."
Arthur dutifully stepped toward Merlin so that they were both facing the seemingly solid wall at the exact same spot that Arthur had entered yesterday. He felt Merlin's arm hook through his own as a strangled hiss escaped his cohort's mouth. Merlin's hand was now placed firmly against a blank space of the wall, but Arthur knew better than to think it was meaningless.
That didn't stop the horrible suffocation that followed, like being squeezed through a tube. Luckily, upon landing outside in the pavement, Arthur did not fall to the ground again. Although that might have had something to do with Merlin's grip keeping him upright.
"You okay?" He heard Merlin's – well, Gwaine's – voice ask as he worked to regain his sight. Upon opening his eyes, he immediately zone in on their surroundings. It was the same alleyway that he had seen the day before, only this time he knew what secret it hid.
"Fine," Arthur tried his best to smile at Merlin. It was then that he noticed their hands still clasped together, causing him to quickly jerk his own back to his side. He quickly searched for something to say and finally settled with "So how do people without magic get in?"
"They don't," Merlin said as he headed down the alleyway and out into the sunlit street. There were quite a few people, but not nearly as many as Arthur had seen the day before, as it was now so early. No one would be up and about that didn't have work or class. "Gwen and Lance always have to go out with one of us. It's a safety precaution, making sure none of the A-Ms can get inside."
Arthur nodded in understanding as they walked down the sidewalk, Merlin leading the way. His legs were slightly shorter now, meaning that Arthur had to slow his pace slightly for them to be on a similar page. They were silent for a few moments, making a few turns through the streets, until a couple of blocks later, when Merlin gestured to a staircase leading downwards into the subway station. Arthur followed him down the stairs, their suits not looking out of place with the other early morning workers struggling to get to their jobs on time.
"I'll swipe my card twice for you," Merlin murmured as they were standing in line at the turnstiles.
"Where did you get the cards anyway?" Arthur asked, keeping his voice low so that passerby would have difficulties deciphering their words.
"Lancelot," Merlin said. "He's basically the answer to all of our prayers."
"You're close, then?" Arthur said, not exactly sure the feeling that bubbled in his gut at Merlin's overly fond tone.
"He's the best friend I've got," Merlin responded. Their conversation was cut short by the redheaded woman in front of them heading through the turnstile, leaving Merlin to pull a card out of his wallet, swiping it twice to let the both of them through to the train.
Once they reached the other side, hurrying through the slightly more crowded area, Arthur asked "The Anti-Magic Headquarters is near the NYPD, right?"
"Relatively close," Merlin said with a shrug as he pointed to one of the trains, striding over nearer to it. Arthur followed in suit. "It's on West 66th. The normal cops didn't want to be interfered with all the time, but sometimes the two have to work together on cases, so the nearer they are to one another the better, at least in terms of getting work done."
Arthur could vaguely recall his father visiting the anti-magic building when they had been in the city, but he and Morgana had stayed in their motel, refusing to come along and for good reason. Not that Uther would ever let them come in the first place, but the point in their refusal remained valid and always would be valid. No one with magic should ever have to voluntarily enter that building.
Before he could respond to Merlin, a zooming noise brought his attention to the subway car rattling down the tracks, coming to a breaking halt in front of them. "Train's here," Arthur said, pointing out the obvious. Merlin nodded.
"Let's go."
They joined the throngs of people entering the car and Merlin quickly snagged two open seats right next to the door; very convenient. They sat there in silence, doors closing and the voice over the intercom blaring out street names as they speeded down the tracks. Their destination wasn't far away, and after listening to the intercom, he discovered that they would only have to wait for a grand total of two separate stops before they arrived.
Of course, after that was when the real problems began. Arthur's heart was beating uncomfortably quickly as the gravity of the situation took a hold of him once again. He could be arrested and possibly executed for what he had agreed to do, and now they were finally heading for the Witchfinder, a man famous for locking away sorcerers. He could kill Merlin and jail Arthur on the spot if their personas slipped even slightly.
It was a terrifying thought.
He wasn't allowed to dwell on it long, for Merlin gently nudged his knee with his own after a few moments, gesturing to the new station the subway was pulling up in to. Arthur nodded thickly and when Merlin rose to his feet, he followed in suit, heading out the opening doors just after him.
They weaved and maneuvered through the station, through the crowds of early morning works, until they were finally above ground, on the sunlit street once again. Arthur blinked, adjusting himself to the light as he watched Merlin's hazel eyes – his blue eyes were much nicer – roam around their surroundings until he pointed to a building at the end of the street.
"There," he said. "That's it. That's the Anti-Magic Headquarters."
The building wasn't remarkable, Arthur noticed. Large, surely, it was over twenty stories, and definitely pretentious, what with its title displayed prominently near the top of the building with glass panes on every front, but it didn't seem out of place among the rest of the skyscrapers in the city. It was busy, however; folks were bustling in and out of the revolving doors at the entrance, none of them smiling, none of them chatting, and only trying to get to business.
Arthur glanced sideways at Merlin, who was gazing up at the building with an expression not of fear, but of hatred. Of anger. And of course he had a reason to look like that; these people had persecuted him all his life, they were holding his friend captive. And, Arthur realized with a jolt, they had held Merlin captive once, too. According to Lancelot, he had been involved in the Vickers outbreak. He'd seen all of this firsthand.
"You alright?" Arthur wasn't great with comforting, but he hoped that his hand on Merlin's shoulder would help in some way. It seemed to, as Merlin's hard expression melted off as he smiled, albeit nervously, over at Arthur.
"Fine," he replied. "Come on. Let's go and get this over with."
"I don't need telling twice."
They headed across the street, stopping briefly to let cars go by before reaching the entrance to the building. Merlin led the way, as he had since they left the base, and he took Arthur around the groups of men and women coming into and out of the building until the two had made their way through the doors, arriving in the lobby.
It was crowded there, nearly as busy as the outside street. Dressed plainly but classily, wooden oak walls surrounded the desks, halls and elevators located directly behind them. That was where the majority of the street-goers were heading, dressed either in a suit or slacks, or a standard police uniform, only instead of the signature NYPD; these were emblazoned with AMNYD, Anti-Magic New York Division. Arthur glanced at Merlin, who appeared stiff as he jerked his head to their left, pointing out a desk labeled 'Visitors'.
There was a short line, one that took seemingly seconds to get through, although in reality it was probably much longer. Heart pounding ferociously, Arthur approached the cardigan-wearing middle-aged woman behind the counter, Merlin a step behind.
The moment of truth – or at least something like it.
Arthur cleared his throat and the lady looked up at him through horn-rimmed spectacles, a vaguely bored expression adorning her face.
Okay. So their entrance into the building hadn't set off any blaring alarms that screamed "Magic users! Magic users!"
Not that Arthur had been worrying about that.
"Arthur Pendragon and Gwaine Macken," his voice took on an authoritative tone. "We have a meeting with A. Aredian at eight o'clock."
"One moment, sir," the woman's voice cracked from the early morning stupor as she diverted her eyes from his, tapping away at her keyboard for a moment. "He's expecting you. I'll send you up in his personal elevator – just a security measure, Mr. Pendragon, certainly you understand."
Arthur tried his hardest not to react; he didn't even glance at Merlin, even though his body and mind were screaming in overwhelming panic. What kind of security was it? Could it detect magical disguises? Or even magic itself?
Suddenly, his theory about blaring alarms didn't seem so far-fetched anymore.
"Not a problem," he answered instead, voice carefully controlled so as not to betray anything of importance.
"There's a hallway just to your right," she said, pointing with manicured fingers. Arthur turned; the hall she gestured to was much less crowded than the others that led out of the lobby area. Apparently Aredian not only merited his own elevator, but an entire hallway as well. He wondered if the man had an entire floor to himself. It wouldn't be a surprise. "Elevator is directly to your left once you enter. Only goes up to the one floor."
"Thank you," Arthur replied, a curt nod following the statement. Folders clutched tight in his hands, he didn't look back until he had meandered around the desk and into the hallway, taking it on faith that Merlin was just behind him.
He was. A hand on his shoulder made him jump, but turning to see Merlin – well, Gwaine, but still Merlin – staring at him was a bit of relief. Before he could open his mouth, Merlin shook his head ever so slight, his eyes stormy, silently communicating a message – Don't talk.
Arthur hadn't even thought of that; even if they didn't have methods for detecting magic, cameras and voice recorders would work just as well. It was amazing the conclusions his mind could jump to, meanwhile forgetting the simplest, subtlest, and possibly most dangerous things of all.
Arthur, hoping his eyes conveyed his understanding of the warning, hurriedly strode over to the elevator ready and waiting for them for board. It looked ordinary enough, but Arthur knew that anything could be the case, especially with the 'extra security measures' the receptionist had alluded to.
He pressed the up button, beating Merlin to it, just in case there was some kind of alert when a sorcerer laid a hand on it.
Well, if that was the case, they were pretty much fucked no matter what they did, but Arthur was trying not to let his brain go there.
Merlin's glance at him was unreadable and Arthur didn't have time to fathom it out, for the elevator dinged a second later, doors sliding open seamlessly, revealing a wooden interior that matched the rest of the building perfectly.
Arthur, heart in his throat, took a hopefully confident step inside.
There was nothing to suggest he was inside something other than an ordinary elevator. Merlin, now inside the small box as well, gave no sign that he noticed anything either, just a simple nod and a gesture toward the panel where Arthur had just pressed the only button there.
They rode up in silence, and Arthur determinedly did not make any eye contact with his cohort, choosing instead to study the tiles on the floor. He didn't want to give anything away accidentally.
Chancing a glance, he saw Merlin was standing erect, very still, jaw locked as if he was fighting against something. Arthur was tempted to ask if he was alright, but knew that would only draw unnecessary attention to any of the cameras that could be surveying them.
He didn't have to dwell on the matter for too long, however, for the elevator dinged a moment later, doors sliding open slowly and almost ominously, as if daring them to move further inside.
Arthur didn't even look at Merlin this time, just strode through the doors purposefully, like a man on a mission, nothing to hide and nothing to lose.
That didn't change the fact that he was mentally freaking out, though.
Merlin followed him, and Arthur could tell he was slightly more hesitant. He hoped that the tension would evaporate soon, though, because he didn't think he could cover for them if Merlin fucked up.
The room they entered into was a waiting area of some sort, with a plush purple couch pushed against one end of a sparse white room, a potted plant at its side. Otherwise, it was blank except for the back wall, which wasn't really a wall at all. It was a series of windows that gave a view into a real office, one with a long mahogany desk that faced them, two chairs facing it, and a man that was striding to the door that separated the two rooms, his hand on the doorknob.
Arthur took the moment to check on Merlin, who had stepped up to stand beside him. He didn't look great, his face even paler than it was in his normal body, but it wasn't enough of a change to draw suspicion about him.
The man stepped out of his office and into the waiting room without preamble. His was probably in his late forties, maybe early fifties, with sandy blonde hair and a large build. Aredian, Arthur presumed. He was proved correct when the man introduced himself in a gravelly voice.
"Arthur Pendragon," he said, coming forward to shake Arthur's hand, which he gripped firmly, Arthur following his lead. "A pleasure, surely. I know your father. My name is Alfonso Aredian."
I know, Arthur was tempted to say, but did not. Instead, in a much more respectful tone, he said "Yes, I've heard my father praise you on many occasions. It's a pleasure to meet you as well."
Aredian nodded, clearly pleased at the imaginary compliment from Uther, before turning to Merlin. "And Gwaine Macken. You've paid our Headquarters here a few visits before, haven't you?"
"Yes," Merlin replied, voice firm as he shook the man's hand. "I'm sorry to say I haven't met you before, but when Mr. Pendragon here contacted me about his predicament, I had the feeling we would finally get an introduction."
"Well, it's good to put a face to the name," Aredian's words were pleasant, but his voice conveyed that it was not good at all. Not even in the slightest. "Won't the two of you come inside? We can get down to business."
"Thank you," Arthur said cordial as could be, following the older man into the office, Merlin a step behind. They had made it through the first barrier, but there were still so many things that had the possibility of going wrong.
Aredian swept himself dramatically behind his desk, leaving Arthur and Merlin to find their way to the two, wooden, hard-backed chairs facing him. Arthur slid into the one on the far left, letting his briefcase thud to the ground between him and the chair where Merlin had taken a seat.
"So," Aredian drew the word out. "I understand you're here about one of our captured sorcerers?" He glanced down at an open file on his desk. "A… Freya Brook?"
"Yes, that's right, sir," Arthur said smoothly, tossing in the term of respect in the hope of playing up the man's arrogance, of which he was certain was abundant. "I have reason to believe that she may be involved with my sister, Morgana Pendragon."
Aredian raised a scrutinizing eyebrow. "Your sister?"
"Surely you know that my sister is a sorceress," Arthur said, hating himself as he spat out 'sorceress' with derision, determinedly avoiding Merlin's eye as he did so. "It caused quite a scandal a few years ago."
"Yes, I was aware," Aredian was not to be moved. "Why do you think she and Brook have a connection? They're both British, but surely that isn't enough information to base a claim on."
His tone had taken on a decidedly patronizing tone, as if speaking to a young child who had decided to play detective for the day. Arthur's blood boiled, but he kept his smile present. "I've been gathering information on Morgana for quite a while, and in my research on her whereabouts, I've found this picture, taken here in the city." He passed the picture from the file in his hand across the desk and into Aredian's, who took, surveying it with a raised eyebrow. "As you can see, it does appear to be Brook with her there."
"So it does," Aredian betrayed nothing in his tone, only mild interest. "Where did you say you came into possession of this?"
"A security camera," Arthur recalled their cover story. "From a department store here in New York. I'm not sure how the two could be so careless as to be caught on camera, but then again, no one ever claimed sorcerers to have any common sense."
This jibe was a common one toward magic users, one Arthur had used dozens of times before, but he felt particularly guilty about it seeing as Merlin was right next to him, hearing his every word. Still, Aredian seemed satisfied by the comment, as he chuckled slightly while peering closer at the picture.
Arthur took this opportunity to dart his eyes across at Merlin, whose face was just as stoic and emotionless as Aredian's. A good thing, Arthur decided, even though he wished he could tell what the other man was thinking. He seemed to be sweating a bit, if the dots of perspiration on his forehead were anything to go by, but that would be excusable for anyone in this situation.
Aredian made people nervous.
"If you would permit it, I would like to have Freya Brook transported to a facility in London for extensive questioning," Arthur filled the brief silence, silently praying for any form of luck that the gods could grant him with. "I'm currently attempting to have my sister found and captured, and this is the closest link to her that I have discovered thus far in my studying of her whereabouts."
"We are still determining whether Ms. Brook is in need of the execution process," Aredian seemed unsurprised by his request, but a cruel smirk twisted onto his features, as if he knew he had Arthur had his mercy and was going use it to his advantage.
"We can continue the research on our own terms," Arthur took another stab, as another idea occurred to him. "Brook is from the UK, after all. We might be privy to further information where you would run into roadblocks."
"You make interesting points," Aredian's smile was still disturbing. Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Merlin, apparently, took this as his moment to jump in.
"We understand that this is no easy decision," he said, voice the epitome of calm and controlled. Damn, he was a good actor. "After all, the sorceress should be executed as soon as possible for her crimes, should there be any. But the information she could provide may lead my client not only to find his traitorous sister, but to other magic users as well. She escaped Vickers, didn't she? That's hundreds of sorcerers that she's connected to. It's only right for her to be questioned by Uther Pendragon himself."
Arthur was almost shocked at Merlin's gamble; if their plan failed, surely all of these points would be addressed in torture sessions with the girl. Still, he held his breath as he waited for Aredian's answer.
"I may need some time to consider this," Aredian said after a moment, the smirk gone from his face, a more somber appearance in its place. "Return at this time next week. I must give great consideration to this decision."
"Of course," Merlin took this as a cue to stand, and Arthur followed suit, bringing his briefcase up with him. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Aredian. I do hope you'll come to see my client's point of view, but your choice shall be respected nonetheless."
After two handshakes and cordial goodbyes, Arthur was out of the claustrophobic office and into the claustrophobic elevator, Merlin by his side. Neither of them even so much as looked at one another on the short trip back to the ground floor, not wanting to risk it. Arthur hoped that their exit of the building would be swift so that they could finally talk freely.
But as soon as they got out of the still crowded, clustered atrium and onto the streets, Merlin took off at top speed down the sidewalk, stumbling slightly as if he had drunk too many pints.
Arthur, concerned, took off after him, but Merlin disappeared down a side street before he could match his pace.
"Merlin – Merlin?" Arthur rounded the corner hurriedly to see Merlin, the real Merlin, with his skinny frame and dark hair, his disguise entirely gone, on his knees just off of the main street, heaving his guts out in disgusting patches of orange and green.
"Sorry," Merlin heaved out, his voice gravelly once more as he coughed again, spewing out a few more colors of the rainbow. Arthur put his suit sleeve up to his nose to block the smell as he leaned against the brick wall, keeping Merlin from being seen by the general public.
"What's the matter?" Arthur asked as Merlin stood up, leaning against the wall to support himself. His suit didn't fit quite right now; it was too large at the middle and too short on the sleeves. Still, he was much more attractive this way than he had been in disguise. Arthur tried not to think about how he was judging a man's appearance based on how he looked when he had just gotten sick right in front of him, and still thought he was gorgeous, because that train of thought never led anywhere good.
"Aredian had something in his office," Merlin responded, tilting his head backward as his breathing returned to semi-normal. "A charm or a talisman. Something that I'm sure he thought could identify magic users. Well, it certainly makes us sick."
Merlin followed his statement with a humorless chuckle and Arthur stared. "You were feeling ill the whole time?"
"Was it noticeable?" Merlin asked, a crease appearing in his forehead. "God, I'm so sorry if it was. I was trying to get us out of there quickly, make sure I couldn't give anything away. I'm not sure how much longer I could have kept it up."
"No, not at all," Arthur shook his head, a bit incredulous. "I couldn't tell a thing. I thought you were perfectly fine."
"Good," Merlin grinned lazily over at him, his breath still on the heavy side. "It worked."
"Next week I'll go alone," Arthur began, but Merlin shook his head emphatically.
"No way," he said. "You've got to have someone with you in case things go wrong. I'm not letting you go in there alone."
"It's no question of letting," Arthur began to fashion a snarky response, but trailed off before he could finish it. He was more touched than anything, after all, that Merlin would be willing to go through another bout of that to keep Arthur safe. It was almost like having a friend. A good friend, one who would stick by you no matter what happened.
And he had only known Merlin a day.
If anyone had told him last week that within this short time span, he would reunite with his sister, go against every single one of his father's principles, and befriend a sorcerer, he would have laughed himself silly at such a ridiculous notion.
It was amazing how quickly circumstances changed.
Merlin didn't resume his disguise as they headed back to the base, he was still unsteady on his feet from simply walking down the street, and Arthur didn't expect him to be able to accomplish complicated magic in this state.
Instead, he let Merlin lean on his shoulder, one arm hooked around waist as they stumbled down the street together. They had caught the Subway at one point, but the last few blocks required their feet.
"Thanks," Merlin said into Arthur's shoulder as they merited a couple of glances from passerby. Ten in the morning was a bit early to be drunk or high, after all, but perhaps they thought Merlin was a university student of something. He looked like he could be a graduate student, maybe, or freshly graduated. Arthur didn't actually know how old he was.
"No problem," Arthur said, holding tighter. "Do you know what kind of – what it was in there?"
Merlin gave the street a couple of furtive glances, but it was busy enough that no one paid a grain of attention to the two men half-leaning against the Starbucks door. "Most likely iron, but it must have been enhanced somehow to get this result."
Arthur, of course, knew that iron handcuffs were the only way to restrain magic users. Every one of their prisons had been coated in iron. It was what made Emrys's break-out of Vickers such worldwide news. No one had ever heard of a sorcerer breaking out of iron restraints.
"I'm sorry," he replied, honestly feeling guilty, which made no sense whatsoever. Merlin would have been there in Aredian's office today even if Arthur hadn't. Still, he felt bad about the results of the day, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly why. But he definitely didn't like seeing Merlin hurt.
"Not your fault," Merlin said. "Don't worry about it, I'll be fine. Just get me back to – Oh, shit."
"What?" Arthur glanced around wildly, expecting to see Aredian, along with a horde of anti-magic forces, rampaging after them with iron bullets and flaming torches. But Merlin was looking over across the street, at a simple park bench in a small square with a fountain shooting up random spurts of water, separating two sets of shops on either side of it.
"Nimueh," Merlin responded darkly, glaring at the bench with a fury in his eyes that Arthur hadn't seen before, making him uneasy and, if he was honest, a bit scared.
"I'm going to need an explanation here," Arthur waited a second before speaking. "What's a Nimueh?"
"Who," Merlin's hands clenched into fists as he held tighter to Arthur's side, leaning much more into him, and Arthur made sure his grip was good. "She's a sorceress here in the city, leader of a gang that has a base over by Grand Central. She's horrible, absolutely horrible. And she wants to meet."
"How can you tell?" Arthur asked, forehead creasing in confusion.
"The bench," Merlin nodded over in the direction of the square and to the inconspicuous and definitely not threatening park bench. "It has her magical signature all over it. All sorcerers have it, it's how we identify others' magic, and magic used for good from that used for evil intent."
"That's useful," Arthur raised an eyebrow. He'd never heard of such a concept before, but then again, the only sorcerer he had ever spent any time with was an inexperienced Morgana, so it wasn't like he was an expert on the subject.
"Very," Merlin agreed. "But this time she's left a message for us. For me. She wants to meet, Thursday at our usual place. Shit. She's probably got a scout here looking, but I can't sense anyone's presence right now. That means she's seen you. Dammit, dammit, dammit."
"She knows I'm here?" Arthur's heart constricted with fear. "Will she recognize me?"
"Hard to say," Merlin shook his head. "Come on, we have to get over there."
Arthur helped Merlin hobble across the street as he explained. "Even if she doesn't know you're Arthur Pendragon, she'll still be aware of someone else's association with us. We have…The politics between magic users in the city are complicated. We're kind of hated by all of the factions because we took in Lance and Gwen. Most sorcerers hate people that don't have magic. Almost everyone is looking for an excuse to take us out, Nimueh especially. She loathes us, me more than most."
"Why you?"
"I may or may not have lit her on fire at one point," Merlin admitted and Arthur glanced down at him incredulously. "It wasn't my fault! She provoked me! She poisoned me, so I'd say we're even. Anyway, if she learns we're keeping any secrets from her, from the magical community, she'll try to take us out. And we really can't afford that right now, which means you'll most likely have to come to our meeting."
"What?" Arthur gaped. This had never been a part of the plan, Morgana hadn't even thought to inform him that he wouldn't just be facing the Anti-Magic Forces but other magic users as well.
"We can disguise you, just make them think we picked you up like we did Lance and Gwen, that we're protecting you," Merlin reassured him quietly as they headed up onto the curb. Arthur would have been concerned about others overhearing their conversation, but the crowds just seemed to slide on straight by them with only a few sideways glances.
When Arthur opened his mouth to protest, Merlin shook his head, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I'd do anything to keep you away from her, but this would mean civil war."
Arthur considered his options for a moment. He could point blank refuse – But then be forced to suffer the consequences of his sister and her loved ones, not to mention Merlin, going through a horrible experience that he couldn't let happen. But then again, being completely surrounded by magic users, evil ones that would hurt him within a second, was not on his bucket list.
"I'll go," he said decisively as he and Merlin reached this alleged park bench. "I can go with you. I'll survive."
"Thank you," Merlin's eyes were bright as he let go of Arthur's side, clasping his hand tightly, but only for a second. A shiver still ran down Arthur's spine, though. "Thank you so much. For everything. I can't tell you how much everything you're doing means to us. To me."
"I – I just don't want to see anyone get hurt," Arthur shifted uncomfortably at the compliment. He wasn't used to this level of praise, let alone from someone who was supposed to be his sworn enemy. "I just want everyone to be equal, but since I know that I can't make that happen, I should try to help in any way possible. Especially since I haven't done anything to help…at all before."
"You haven't done anything to help?" Merlin let out a barking laugh. "Arthur, you kept Morgana safe from your father, from society, for years. That's something, something that matters quite a bit."
Arthur would have replied, but Merlin's had circled the bench, putting both hands on the back of it, pressing down lightly. Arthur gave the crowded street a panicked look, but whatever Merlin did wasn't visible to human eyes. He stumbled back into Arthur a second later, nearly collapsing against him, and Arthur held him upright as best he could. He was heavier than he appeared.
"She knows I was here now," Merlin's face was pale and drawn, his voice hoarse. "Come on, let's get home. I have just enough juice left to get us through the entryway."
It was a very near thing. Merlin, with Arthur holding him semi-upright, had managed to get them through the doorway, but collapsed onto the ground the second the tightening, squeezing passage let them out.
Arthur, now on his third time, had only stumbled slightly, and immediately pulled Merlin up onto his feet, helped by Lancelot, who appeared at Merlin's other side in an instant. Arthur couldn't think about where he had come from, he was only grateful for the help.
"What happened?" Lancelot asked as he helped Arthur cart the unconscious Merlin over to lay him on the navy blue couch in the sitting room. It was only when Gwen, Morgana, and Kara jumped off of it that Arthur realized the rest of their cohorts were all seated in the room, apparently waiting for his and Merlin's return.
"Were you caught?" Kara's voice was sharper and more accusatory than Lancelot's earnest concern. Gwen put an arm on her shoulder as if to warn her, but Kara shook it off.
"Is he alright?" Mordred's response was the one Arthur had been waiting for, as he and Gaius knelt down next to Merlin's form flopped across the furniture.
"He's fine, I think," Arthur said. "There was iron or something in Aredian's office that made him sick."
Morgana put a hand over her mouth and grasped Gwen's arm tightly, but Arthur sank into the only other open chair, closing his eyes, suddenly exhausted despite the overabundance of sleep he'd received the night before.
"We made it out alright, though," he continued on, hoping he didn't sound as tired as he felt. "Aredian said he needs to think about the offer. We're going back next week. And then on the way home Merlin found a message from – Nimueh, isn't it? – And we're meeting her on Thursday."
"We're –" Arthur wasn't lucid enough to register whose voice that was, but he responded nonetheless.
"Apparently I have to go along because she's already seen me, and if I didn't, there'll be civil war," he said. "Can I just – have a second, please?"
"Of course," said a voice Arthur was nearly certain was Gaius's. "Everyone, I'll have to ask you to leave. Arthur needs rest and Merlin needs medical attention."
Arthur wanted to make some comment about thanks, but he could already hear Gwen replying and saying she'd get something to ease pain or…well; everything kind of vanished after that as he dozed off into fitful sleep.
When Arthur awoke nearly an hour later, Merlin was on one side of him, awake and in an upright position, though still looking pale and like he was going to be sick any moment, Morgana on the other, gazing at him with a determined gleam in her eyes.
"Merlin…" Arthur pushed himself into an upright position as he was greeted with a small smile. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Merlin still looked as if he would be sick any moment, but at least he wasn't as pale and there was no obvious sign of throwing up even more of his breakfast. "What about you?"
"Me? I'm fine," Arthur scoffed off the concern. "I was just tired."
"Thank you," Morgana interrupted whatever Merlin had opened his mouth to say. "Thank you, Arthur."
Arthur grinned over at his sister, whose sour expression seemed to convey the absolute pain that the statement had brought her to say out loud. She had never liked having to thank anyone for anything, hated swallowing even a tiny bit of her pride.
"Good to know those words can exit your mouth," Arthur teased lightly, only to be responded to with a glare.
"I'm going upstairs," she declared, standing up. "I was just going to make sure you weren't dying in your sleep or anything. One of you can yell if there's something you need."
"I'm not incapable!" Arthur shouted after her retreating figure, but she just ignored him. Merlin, however, chuckled under his breath.
Arthur returned his attention back to his new friend at the sound. "Are you sure that there's no lasting damage?"
"Absolutely," Merlin nodded solemnly. "Gwen ran tests and everything. I'm just not supposed to strain myself for a couple of days. They should know that telling me to take things easy is pretty much a guarantee that I'm going to attempt world domination or something on that scale."
Arthur must have looked alarmed, for Merlin corrected himself hurriedly. "Not that I would or anything! Honestly, Arthur, I'm not Nimueh. I don't actually mean it."
"I knew that," Arthur said, and it was the truth. Barely twenty-four hours was not enough time to know a person, but he really did feel like he knew Merlin. Going through life-changing experiences seemed to accomplish that.
"Good," Merlin nodded. He seemed like he was going to open his mouth to continue on, but he was interrupted by the sight of Kilgharrah, who had wormed his way between the couch and Arthur's chair, jumping up on Arthur's lap in the next second.
"Oof!" Arthur cried as the cat, or rather, small tiger, plopped himself down on Arthur's legs, curling up so that Arthur couldn't move if he wanted to.
"Bad Kilgharrah," Merlin chided from the couch, shaking a finger at the cat. "You do know Arthur can put you in the washing machine, too, right? I'm not alone in recognizing your pure evil anymore."
Arthur flicked one of Kilgharrah's ears and didn't even merit a reaction. Merlin groaned loudly at the creature.
"I think he likes you, Arthur," Merlin leaned his head backwards, shaking it. "How does that happen? I've been with him for three years now and he still plows me over every thirty seconds. But he just wants to cuddle with you."
"Maybe he'd like you more if the washing machine wasn't such an important factor in your relationship," Arthur found himself laughing at Merlin's dramatizing of the situation.
"But the washing machine is our special thing!" Merlin protested. "Some couples have their own songs. And since Kilgharrah's the closest thing I've had to a boyfriend in years, we need something special that proclaims our love for one another. Hence the washing machine."
"Great analogy, comparing romance to causing your pet bodily harm," Arthur grinned, but he couldn't help hearing that the word boyfriend was used, not girlfriend. That was…that was interesting. He wondered if Morgana had told any of her friends here of his sexuality, but then chided himself for being so self-centered. How the hell would that have come up in conversation?
Still, as he chuckled at Merlin's comment, he couldn't help but hope that Merlin knew that he had the potential of being interested in him.
That was a bit scary, being attracted to a magic user, but Arthur was coming to accept that fact that his life would not be going according to plan even slightly from here on out.