Merlin: Reborn

Since the end of Arthur's life, Merlin has wandered the globe in a variety of disguises, playing different roles throughout history. He returns to a city called Camden on the site that used to be Camelot, and finds all the people he once knew. Gwen, Gaius, Uther, Morgana... reincarnated with new names and no memory of their ancient past. Arthur... Merlin's best friend, his partner in crime, his King... has no idea who Merlin is. It's up to Merlin to figure out how to relive his most painful memories and try to keep Arthur safe in a post-modern, violent, corporate society.


:::

Chapter Two: Valiant

:::

Merlin did not see Arthur in the hospital that night. He rightly guessed it would be awkward, and considering Arthur had given him a split lip the afternoon before, it would be asking for trouble if he showed up. He waited for Gaius in the cab, and then they returned to the flat. Merlin felt so emotionally drained that he went to bed still fully clothed, and didn't wake till Gaius's recently steeped chamomile tea smell filled the rooms.

Merlin smiled at the familiarity of it. The fact that Gaius was just a room away making tea was the most comfortable feeling... home wasn't Camelot. Or Camden. Home was where ever Gaius, Gwen, Arthur, and the rest were. Merlin sat up, suddenly.

Somewhere... somewhere in Camden or near to it... a man named Gwaine was probably drinking himself to death. Lancelot was somewhere in the world feeling romantic and honorable. There might even be a child named Mordred doing lord-knows-what. Playing those awful movie games- wait, G.G. games. V.G. games? Merlin could never remember. DVDs, VCRs... CPR... everything was an acronym in the last century.

He shook his head, managing to let his thoughts drive him into a mental frenzy. The more he thought about his friends being reincarnated, the crazier it seemed. In order to remain sane, he was probably going to have to figure out how to shut his mind down.

Don't think about the past, and don't think about the future.

He heard the sound of Gaius's laptop signing into the internet. Merlin at least knew it meant Gaius was using dial up... probably AOL. Another stupid acronym. It also meant no wifi. Given the last ten years meant the introduction of instant information, it satisfied a his deeply curious nature that no other silly invention had been able to accomplish.

"MERLIN!" Gaius suddenly barked up the ladder. "Why do I have an email from Uther asking about your experiences as a body guard for the ROYAL FAMILY?"

"It's not a lie," Merlin called down, his hair sticking up in all directions. "I was Arthur's bodyguard in my time. I once served Queen Victoria too."

Silence.

"I'm rather inclined to think you're making it all up."

"I'm ancient, Gaius," Merlin swung over the ladder and slid down to the floor, walking into the cramped kitchen and sliding into the seat across from Gaius. "Don't worry. I do have a reference. I just need you to refer Uther to Bartholomew Hasgood."

"And who is that?"

"He's a friend. An old friend. He still works in Buckingham Palace."

"Buckingham!"

"I worked with his great... grandfather." Merlin paused, accepting a cup of tea that Gaius wordlessly pushed across the table towards him. "Or was it great-great grandfather?"

"And this younger man will vouch for you?"

"Family secret," Merlin shrugged. "Hasgood was a good man. He passed my secret onto his son, and his son after him... I saved his life once. He felt he owed me. So he made a vow to ensure I would always have an ally within his family, even when the generation has ended..."

"Forget it, I'll do it," Gaius wagged a finger at him. "But I'd best not lose my position over this. I shall stick my neck out for you as much as I deem fit, and should my conscience grow too weary of it, I shall simply stop granting you any favors."

"That's more than fair. Thank-you."

"Don't you have some paperwork to sign in twenty minutes?"

Merlin drank his tea a little faster.

:::

Merlin slightly enjoyed the expression on Elaine's face when she greeted him at the front desk. "I have an appointment with HR," he said.

"Of course you do," Elaine said under her breath. Then she turned and smiled genuinely at him. "For the record, I'm glad things turned out. Internships are... great learning experiences."

"I'm actually not here for the internship," Merlin confessed. "Uth-I mean, Mr. Pendrake. He offered me another job."

"Another? Which one?"

"I'm going to...be... Arthur's body guard, I suppose. I sort of saved his life."

Elaine's mouth dropped open. "That was YOU on the news?"

"Yeah."

"Good god," Elaine merely shook her head. "Threatening to kick his arse one minute, then saving it the next. You're a puzzle, Merlin." She answered a short ring, and nodded to Merlin. "They're ready for you. HR is on the thirtieth floor."

"Thanks."

"And Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"I wouldn't tell just anyone that you are Arthur's body guard. If the media got wind that he needed one..."

"I understand."

"But the media will be the least of your problems."

"Oh? And who is going to be my biggest problem?"

"Well, Arthur, naturally. Don't tell him you're guarding him, you might as well say that Mr. Pendrake is hiring him a nanny." She pulled a piece of paper from the desk and waved it. "This was buried under the memos. The official title of this job is personal assistant. That's why I was so surprised. It wasn't in any job listings, apparently Mr. Pendrake was only offering it to those he screened and became interested in."

"So Arthur will be under the impression I'm just a..." Merlin's lips twitched on the word, "A servant?"

"Practically. While you're watching his back, try to make it look like your priority is knowing how he likes his coffee." She shrugged. "That's all the advice I have for you."

"It's good advice."

"Good luck."

:::

For a half hour, the only sound in the empty conference room overlooking an incredible view of Camden was the scratch, scratch of pen on paper. Merlin had lasted long enough in the modern world to have procured certain items by magic; a driver's license, a national insurance number. He knew how to pass unseen through the system, with just enough information to make himself real, but not enough to make him stand out.

They handed him a stack of papers and said to bring them out front when he was finished. They let him borrow the empty conference room, the spacious, dark blue room with the window stretched along the entire far wall. He sat, automatically, at a right-hand seat, and not at the head of the table.

:::

Merlin's papers were accepted by stone-faced HR individuals and replaced with a large manila envelope. "What's this?" Merlin asked. "More papers to sign?"

"The effects one will need in order to do his or her job properly," said the balding man behind bifocals. "Extra data charges on the phone will be deducted from paycheck, but of course all of that is in the writing you read and signed this morning. If you have any questions, please contact your supervisor."

"But what if I," Merlin began.

Bifocal-man held up a finger. The phone was ringing.

"Albion Industries, this is Frank," he answered, gloomily.

Merlin took the opportunity to walk backwards away from the desk. Sitting in one of the armchairs beside a potted plant, he opened the flap and looked inside. A company smart phone, security pass, name badge, front gate key, and a parking permit for the car he didn't have. "Wow," Merlin exclaimed. He remembered signing the paper for the phone, but he assumed it was for use of general resources or computers, not his own company phone. A pleasant surprise.

He turned it on.

DRROOOOOOOOOOID! the phone practically screamed.

Merlin glanced up. Every HR cubicle occupant with visibility to the small seating area was glaring at him. He got up quickly and slipped out the door, back into his conference room where he could activate the phone without driving anyone else insane.

After a few agonizing moments of personalization and confirming email addresses and trying to memorize his own phone number, Merlin found an orchestrated theme song from one of those kid BBC-one telly shows as a ringtone, instead of one of those irritating beeping sounds. He took a great photo from the window's inspiring view of Camden and saved it at the background... the only thing familiar about this place was the skyline. The treeline hadn't changed as much, and if the lighting was right, he could still see the white mountains in the distance. There were landmarks that had long changed or eroded with time... Cenred's lands, the labyrinth of Gedraf... they were all gone now.

But there was something homelike about looking out on a similarly shaped horizon, and preserving what was left of it on a phone. Such a remarkable invention, and all without magic.

"I trust you have me on speed dial." Mr. Pendrake's deceptively evil voice suddenly burst out of a slit of light from the doorway.

"Sir," Merlin turned away from the window, catching a sire and a bow in mid-gulp. It was difficult to separate this Uther from the old one. This man clearly hadn't committed genocide as the previous one did, but his voice still prompted shivers of fear in those around him. And truth be told, it didn't matter if he was in a suit or in a crown... he looked the same. "Not, not yet," Merlin moved carefully towards him, holding out the phone. "But I think that would be very advisable."

"Advisable? Highly necessary," Uther tapped the screen a few times and handed it back. "I've already informed Arthur that you are to be notified of his every move. And Frank just sent him your new number. I trust you are ready to begin work right away?"

"Right away," Merlin said, a little too shrill. He coughed. "Yes, right away," he corrected, normally.

"Good." Uther shook his hand the way others veil their threats, and left him alone again. The CEO, and coincidentally, founder and owner of the company, may have had titles less-important in this century, but he still carried himself like a King with a fondness for killing his enemies. He still bore a mantle of power.

Merlin trembled slightly. The man had snuck into the room as soundlessly as a ghost. What if Merlin had been doing something magical, like creating a horse made of smoke on the horizon he had been so needlessly admiring?

I will not make the same mistakes twice, Merlin promised himself. This isn't the same. He has no power over my life... not like then. Just the job. He's my employer, not a man holding an axe over my neck and waiting for a sorcerer.

The phone buzzed. Merlin opened it, slightly perplexed. With any luck it would be spam from some hacker that would turn out to be Mordred.

[unknown number ]

I'm supposed to "check in" with you. So this is me checking in.

This was followed by an emoticon of a cartoon hand with the middle finger raised.

Merlin rolled his eyes. It was too obvious. He hit call back, and waited.

"Arthur," he greeted, as soon as the phone was answered.

A grunt followed. "You're very prompt. What?"

"I received your message," Merlin said, sounding far too chipper. "And I spoke with Mr. Pendrake about my... duties. When should I see you in the morning?"

"Well, when I'm not being stabbed by some lunatic, I go to the gym a few mornings a week. 7 am."

"Which gym?"

"Tourney Green Gym."

There was a sound of a car door on Arthur's side of the conversation.

"Where are you now?" Merlin asked.

Far too long of a pause to be an honest answer.

"Well, where do you think, you smart ass? I got attacked in a pub last night, probably no thanks to you. Where do you think I'd be? Maybe a hospital?"

Road noise.

"You're not in the hospital," Merlin said.

Arthur coughed. "Am so."

"That's really mature. I can hear the limo."

Arthur let out a long, irritated sigh. "The hospital didn't want to release me until ten, so, I left."

"And... you're going to... the gym?"

"No use breaking a good habit. Be there or not."

dial tone.

Merlin glanced at the call ended blinking on the phone screen. Why the hell was Arthur going to the gym with a stab wound in his shoulder? What an idiot!

Merlin clicked the number.

Save to contacts?

Yes.

Save as?

Royal Prat.

Contact Saved.

:::

Merlin jogged all the way to the Tourney Green Gym. He knew where it might be, vaguely, just due to the uncanny events preceding. It was near the Albion skyscraper, a left at the parking lock gate and three blocks down. It was an outdoor business center, surrounding a plaza like the letter E without the middle branch. The center of the plaza was an old fountain and historical marker, claiming to be the same location of a medieval water source and well used by peasants. The back door of the gym led to a large track and field for sports events, and across the field, there were dorms for Camden University. A sign on the door stated that Uni students received a membership discount.

Merlin tried not to think about the fact that this place was where the market square used to be, with a not so comfortable set of stocks, the communal well, and even Gwen's little house that she shared with her father the blacksmith...

Merlin pushed the door open, and the man at the desk gave him a judgmental look. What is it with being greeted by people sitting behind a desk with raised eyebrows and a ready frown? He began to walk by, but the man cleared his throat.

"Excuse me," he said, "I need to see your membership card?"

"I'm not a member," Merlin replied, "I'm Arthur Pendrag... Pendrake... I mean, I'm his assistant."

"Members are not allowed past this counter."

"Then make Arthur buy me a membership," he retorted, marching by anyway. Sometimes he felt emboldened in this century... breaking the rules didn't always mean putting all of his loved ones in danger. And certainly not for skirting around security as often as he did.

The man behind the counter wasn't a knight of Camelot reincarnated, but a type of gatekeeper nevertheless. Merlin was relieved for once not to knock the local guard unconscious. Giving guards of Camelot concussions (though he didn't know they were concussions back then) was almost a secondary hobby.

"Will do," the man snorted after him. "Putting it on his daddy's bill," he muttered to himself.

Merlin walked purposefully around the exercise machines. Arthur would be doing the most obviously stupid thing, such as weight lifting, or challenging someone to single combat...

"It's about time," came Athur's patronizing voice.

Merlin saw Arthur lying on the bench press, hands on the bar and waiting to lift it off of the spokes.

"Glad to see you at least waited before lifting that," Merlin sighed. Arthur made the most haughty expression and suddenly gripped the rod, lifting it out of the rest and plunging it high above his head. Merlin darted behind him to act as a spotter.

"You're going to reopen your wound," he said casually.

Arthur kept lifting. With gritted teeth and roar, he dumped it back into the stokes. Merlin flinched, afraid he was about to drop it on his own chest and kill himself.

"I'm fine!" he declared loudly, sitting up and looking at the weights proudly. "Seventy-two kilos. Above average." Arthur glanced at him disappointedly. "I bet you could not bench fifty on a good day."

"You'd be surprised."

"You're made of nothing. I should sign you up here."

"Well, you have to, anyway. They'll charge you for my presence anyway."

"Then why don't you leave?"

"I'm your assistant. I'm not supposed to leave your side."

"Oh, where's that from? The Personal Guide to Being the WORST Personal Assistant Ever?"

"Its from your dad," corrected Merlin.

"Well, screw him." Arthur swung his legs over the bench press and stood up. He winced slightly and tried to cover it up. "Let's do this one."

For the next twenty minutes, Merlin followed Arthur around the gym and tried to keep him from killing himself. Arthur rattled on about this and that, torn between mocking Merlin's apparent lack of muscle tone and monologuing about knowing what was good for the company despite his father's attempts to muck it up.

Eventually, others began to file into the gym. Some students, some middle aged, and some that were body builders and looked as if they belonged on another planet. A young man about Arthur's age stopped by him, another apparent regular to the gym. They greeted each other with a familiar nod and fist bump.

"You pressin' today?"

"Just finished. Trying out something in the window next, I thought, but they'd only got the stationary bike things up there..."

"F**k the ellipticals, right?"

"Right," Arthur responded, "I mean, get out and ride a bike if you must. It doesn't belong here."

"You, what, press one sixty in pounds?"

"Working up to two hundred. I hope."

Merlin sighed. Anyone born in England after 1975 could just as easily switch from talking about kilos to pounds in seconds and still know what they were talking about. It was a travesty.

"Thought so, you know I started increasing my protein and got up to two hundred..."

"I hate those powders..."

"Nah, no powders, man. Real food. Eggs and shit."

Merlin's head was swinging back and forth between the two of them.

Arthur was laughing. "Eggs and milk is all I eat. I have a problem with milk."

"Lactose?"

"Drinking too much of it. I love milk."

"It's f**kin' good for you, right? Keep it up, man, you can get up to two hundred in no time..."

"Maybe if I had a better spotter."

"Oh, the twig, there? What the 'ell does he do here?"

"He's one of my father's cronies."

"Rough, mate."

"Right here, you know," Merlin mumbled.

"I'll spot you if you want to give it another go, let's try another ten," suggested the other man.

Arthur shrugged his hurt shoulder, putting his hand automatically to the wound. "Maybe another time?"

"No, no, no, man, you gotta push yourself. That's how you get better. You built up the muscle. You gotta keep pushin'. Let's give it a try. I'll spot you, you won't break a sternum on my watch."

"This is how you should act, take note," Arthur barked at Merlin. "When you go to a gym, you help each other out."

Merlin turned to the newcomer with subtle glare. "I'm sure I can learn plenty from you."

"Just call me Coach Val. If I can coach a couple of wrestling teams I sure as hell can get Pendrake up ten today. You have the drive already. Just act on it. Let's try seventy-seven kilos."

"Sure, yeah," Arthur caved. "Let's do it!"

"Since when do you like milk?" Merlin mumbled, following them back to the bench presses. Something was making him feel uneasy. Something from his memories, ancient memories, were nagging at him.

But it had been a long time. Was there something he should be remembering?

This unexpectedly helpful Coach Val was pushing Arthur to do more than he should. Wouldn't a good coach be wary if his prodigy was suffering from a recent stab wound? Surely Val had seen the news.

These gym buffs aren't like the knights, thought Merlin grimly. They're not honorable, brave, or valiant...

Merlin's head snapped up just in time to see Coach Val smile at him. He knew that smile. It was malicious and nearly victorious.

"Don't," Merlin barked, stepping up to the bench press and putting a hand out. A little bit of yellow light seemed to leak from his fingertips, closing them around the bar. Val was acting as spotter for Arthur, and was mere milliseconds from dropping the weights on Arthur's chest.

"Come on, let go of the bar, I got this," Arthur said distractedly, blissfully unaware.

Merlin looked at the numbers on the weights. Four hundred pounds. He didn't have to try and convert to kilos in his head. He knew that was too heavy.

"Get out," he said to Val, eyes narrowing.

"What'd you say?" Arthur exclaimed.

Val held up his hands defensively, and was astonished to realize Merlin was still holding the bar with only one hand, out of Arthur's reach, but holding it with his own telekinesis. Keeping it upright and hovering, with only one translucent hand closed like a fist around the bar.

"What the..." Val whispered, his voice suddenly hoarse.

"I guess Val has to go," Merlin said, setting the bar back into the slots with a metallic clang. Single-handedly.

Arthur craned his neck backwards. "Huh?"

Val looked at Merlin again. Checked the weights. Looked again. He put on extra weight, two hundred past Arthur's capacity, intending to help him lift and then stepping out of the way...

"Wankers," Val muttered, backing away slowly. He turned and fairly ran out of the facility.

"What's the IDEA?" Arthur sat up. "Where'd he go? Why'd you have to go and be like that? You are undoubtedly the WORST assistant I have EVER had!" Arthur jumped from the bench press and marched passed the counter, snatching a towel from a cubby and throwing it around his shoulders. He went straight to the ellipticals in the windows.

Even Valiant was here. Merlin thought, with a chilled fear running down his spine. Knight Valiant, sans snakes. A cheater and a murderer. He was here. And it was so close. I could have skipped going to the gym. I could have bloody waited outside if I wanted.

No, no, no, no... it can't be as hard as last time. He can't be in this much danger ALREADY! Not in this decade. This century. If I hadn't been there...

Merlin had already lost Arthur once, and he had no intention of losing him again.

Never ever again.

Not even in a bloody university gymnasium, while Arthur pumped away at a stationary bike, putting earbuds in and tuning Merlin out with an unheard song. He vaguely wondered what kind of music Arthur liked in this century, and cleared his throat. "You wouldn't be so mad if you knew how much Val had put on the bar."

Arthur popped an ear bud out and glared at him. "Oh, and how much would THAT be?"

"Four hundred pounds."

"You must have read it wrong." Arthur picked up his bag at the front and moved for the exit.

"He didn't have good intentions."

"Oh, I guess I won't invite him home to SUPPER, then!"

:::

When it was time to leave, Arthur tried to let the door shut behind him on Merlin's face, but he caught it just in time.

"He was trying to hurt you," Merlin sighed, letting the door go. They made their way across the plaza.

"I WAS JUST FINE UNTIL YOU SHOWED UP!" Arthur whirled on heel and faced Merlin. "We fight at the office. I get stabbed in a pub. Apparently one of my gym buddies tries to crush me? Do you just have the worst bad luck hanging on to you and anyone you come in contact with?"

"It's not my fault," Merlin protested. "You're a target. You're a son of an extremely wealthy man..."

"It's not like I'm Bruce Wayne or something."

"Albion Industries is categorized amongst the greatest corporations of the world... Apple. Disney. ICBC. GE." Merlin sighed. "Think about the types of crowds you attract with the sub companies, the other LLCs. Albion might just be the big daddy company that owns all the productions that make useful medical supplies, but what about Albion's investments? The programs created to give smaller communities better jobs, targeting low-income areas and interrupting the status quo of the gangs and drugs? Don't think I didn't do my homework."

Arthur didn't respond.

"That carries some weight, you know. Even you must understand after last night that you have enemies."

"You think I don't KNOW that? You are the biggest idiot my father could have hired."

"You don't have to like me, you know," Merlin said quietly. "I don't care. I'm going to do my job."

"Then do your bloody job. Fetch me a coffee." Arthur lifted a hand to the limo in the parking lot.

"So you're obviously in a rebellious sort of stage of life," Merlin quipped, with a grin. "Will you trust me if I tell you something I shouldn't be telling you?" He appreciated Elaine's advise, but he didn't want to begin with so many lies... again. Maybe if he is more truthful, the easier things will be the second time around.

Arthur tried not to look at him. "Maybe," he said in a snide tone, chewing the inside of his check.

"My official job title is personal assistant," Merlin said, "But I'm actually your body guard."

Arthur visibly flinched.

"Not a security guard, hovering around your house and the hallways at the corporate office. I am your body guard. Which means you're stuck with me."

"I guess reporting to you with my every move makes more sense now," Arthur replied gloomily. In a brief glimpse of vulnerability crossed his face. "Why didn't my father just say that? Why lie?"

Merlin shrugged. "To let you feel independent?"

"Don't," Arthur held up a finger. "Don't... try to defend him. Just shut up." The limo pulled up to the curb. Arthur got in the back, and shut the door quickly.

Merlin opened the front passenger door. "Hello," he said to the driver. "I'm Merlin."

"The new body guard," said the driver, with a vaguely familiar look. "I know."

Merlin tried to place him, but wasn't sure. Maybe every townsperson, castle guard, horse-groomer and passing traveler from Camelot had been reincarnated as well, even if Merlin had only met them briefly in passing. Maybe never met them at all!

"I'm Tom," he said, reaching over and shaking Merlin's hand. Merlin hopped inside, shut the door, and reached for his seatbelt. "I know, I know," he said, with a cheerful smile. "Black driver. A little stereotypical, don't you think?"

"Uh huh," Merlin nodded. "I don't think they thought that one through very carefully." His eyes widened with realization. "You're Gwen's dad," he said.

"Yeah!" Tom smiled, with the look of a father whose daughter was his source of all joy. "You know Gwen?"

"We... just met," Merlin faltered, not wanting to get Gwen in any trouble. I won't do that twice. "She was very welcoming. To me, I mean. I'm new to Camden."

Arthur snorted.

"That's my Gwen. She's the light of my life." Tom smiled and checked his mirrors and pulled back into traffic. "Anything you need back there, sir?" he asked over his shoulder. "How're you feeling?"

Arthur grunted. "Just take me straight to work. Gym was a bust."

"How's your shoulder? I saw the news." No answer from Arthur at all. He was looking out the window. "No breakfast?" Tom added gracefully.

"I ate breakfast as the hospital," Arthur replied shortly.

"Very well, sir," Tom said.

"It will be very nice working with you," Merlin said.

"Well, there's the rub," Tom replied. "Today is actually my last day."

Arthur's head snapped back. "What do you mean?"

"I'll be... ah... moving on, you see. Seeking new employment. It's my last day with Albion."

"Yeah, okay, I know what it means, but WHY?" Arthur repeated, affronted.

"Well, to tell you the truth," Tom shrugged uncomfortably. "If you must know. I was let go this morning."

"You were sacked?" Arthur barked. "By WHOM?"

"Mr. Pendrake, of course," Tom said slowly. "He is my boss."

"No, I'm your boss," Arthur exclaimed. "And I say you stay. I don't want a new driver."

"Unfortunately, it's not up to you," Tom said. "Mr. Pendrake is my boss. And he can let me go as he sees fit."

"You can't just leave without telling me why," Arthur demanded.

"It's not for me to say."

Merlin slouched in his seat, trying not to intervene.

"Bull SHIT," Arthur said through gritted teeth. "Why the hell did my father fire you? Tell me!"

"He thinks I have been leaking your whereabouts to unsavory characters for cash," Tom said with a sigh, and a glance in his rearview mirror. "Such as paparazzi, or like the man last night at the pub."

"I'm the one who tweeted a picture, any asshole on the media could have figured out where we were even if I didn't tag the pub... that was my own fault," Arthur grumbled. "He has no proof. He can't fire you on a suspicion."

"Your father loves you," Tom said, and Arthur rolled his eyes. "No... he does. So he absolutely can fire me on a suspicion. Nothing else matters if your son's safety is concerned and your father takes it seriously. Don't hold it against him. Think of it as he's trying to take precautions to protect you."

Arthur muttered an expletive.

"I understand you are upset," Tom said gently. "That's why I didn't want to tell you."

"So who will be the new driver?" Arthur asked sarcastically. "Him?" he indicated Merlin with an eye roll.

"Sort of," Tom said. "Your dad thinks the whole limo thing is too obvious. He's getting you a car."

"I have a car."

"A car that RUNS. Not that clunker you play with in the garage. It will look entirely normal, a black sedan or something... bullet proof glass. You can drive it yourself. Or he can drive it," Tom shrugged at Merlin.

"Sure, yeah," Merlin said lightly. Do I know how to drive? He thought in a panic. When was the last time I drove a car?

"If he doesn't want me to use a limousine," Arthur said, "Why doesn't he just let me take a cab like a normal bloke? No one in England drives."

Tom gave him a funny look.

"With you being the primary exception," Arthur grumbled.

Merlin had a vague memory of joyriding in 1975 with a couple of friends. He went through a troubled period in his life where he tried to erase memories of Arthur with excessive alcohol use and smoking things that shouldn't be smoked. He used his magic in front of his friends carelessly, but they were so high on hallucinogens that they never believed what they saw was real. He remembered they stole a car from a car dealership and went on a ride through the countryside before abandoning it beneath a freeway...

"Plenty of people drive," Tom sighed.

"Not in the city," Arthur went on. "Maybe if we were the bloody veterinaries on that old BBC show! Which takes place in the forties I might add!"

"It's not safe to take a cab," Tom said sternly. "Does Steve Jobs take a cab in a bad neighborhood? Do you see celebrities hiring Uber drivers? No. They have their own or do it themselves."

"I do enough traveling for losing my driver to be a little more than inconvenient," Arthur snapped. "Are you aware of the amount of traveling we'll be doing, Merlin?"

Merlin had lived centuries of life and the only significant use of an automobile was probably a felony. He'd have to look back in one of his worn notebook journals of notes, on his own thoughts and history, to see if there was any other circumstance he could recall. Did he not drive some of the earliest automobiles in the early 1900s just for the heck of it?

"MerLIN," Arthur said, breaking away Merlin's thoughts.

"Huh, sorry, what?" Merlin said.

"Do you know anything about what I do?"

"For the company?"

"I'm a half-hearted mixture of compliance and marketing. We'll be doing some traveling, attend all the big important investment meetings."

"Sounds important."

"If one of our subsidiaries gets involved in something foolish, I am cleaning up the mess."

Merlin nodded. Sounds like something a Prince would do when he isn't King.

"But it means I have a little downtime. I'm not eight to five. But a lot of tooling around Camden. Trips to London. Sometimes out of the country."

"All right." Time to magically produce a passport.

"So you don't really have to hang around me all the time."

Merlin shrugged. "I think I'll be the judge of that."

Tom chuckled, and Arthur crossed his arms over his chest.

...

Tom pulled through the gate, flashing his ID at security. They pulled into the main parking lot of the beautiful campus, and Merlin caught a glimpse of the water in the sunlight. He had a feeling he would be visiting the large pond again. It was the only hint of nature in this city.

"What the?" Arthur gasped, opening the car door before it was fully parked. Merlin caught a glimpse of police lights reflecting off the side of the shining windows from a smaller office building beside the main skyscraper. Tom slammed on the brakes as Merlin jumped out as well, jogging quickly around the front of the limo to stop Arthur from getting too far ahead. Tom gave him a wave, and pulled the limo around the back to a private garage behind the skyscraper.

Two police cars, with the lights whirling silently, sat in the parking lot. There were police men standing near Uther Pendrake, and a few other Albion employees, speaking in a low hum. Sir Leon was one of them.

Merlin nearly skidded to a stop at the sight of him.

"What's going on?" Arthur demanded, loping up.

"There was an intruder in the building," Uther said in a clipped tone, jerking his head towards the police cars. "I can assure you we will be pressing charges to the full extent of the law. Trespassing, criminal mischief..."

Arthur peered toward the car. "Val...?"

Valiant's hollow eyes refused to make contact with Arthur or Merlin. He stared straight ahead, the cuffs keeping his massive, muscular arms pinned together.

"You know this young man?" Uther exclaimed suspiciously.

"Well, sort of," Arthur said calmly, "He goes to the same gym I do. I just saw him, maybe an hour ago."

"What purpose do you think he had coming here?" Uther said, as if this was all somehow Arthur's fault.

"I don't know," Arthur drawled peevishly. "He's just a meathead."

"I believe he was going to hide in the building and wait for Arthur," Merlin interjected.

"That's quite an accusation," said one of the policemen.

"He did not have noble intentions. He pretended to be helpful at the bench press and nearly dropped four hundred pounds of weight on his chest," Merlin said calmly, in as a professional voice as he could muster. "He ran off when I confronted him."

"And you didn't call the police?" Uther said darkly.

"I think Merlin misinterpreted the situation..." Arthur began.

"The proof lies before you!" Uther almost shouted, slamming his hand against the window of the patrol car. Val flinched away from the glass. "If Mr. Hunith thinks someone is threatening you, then do your due diligence! Don't be an idiot! Call the police!" He turned to Merlin. "And no matter what sort of imbecilic excuses my thick-headed son comes up, do your job. This is your first warning."

"Understood," Merlin gulped involuntarily.

"We'll... need his statement," said the police officer uncomfortably, gesturing the Merlin.

"Certainly," Merlin replied.

Arthur turned to walk away, but Uther grasped his shoulder firmly, knuckles whitened with a ruthless grip. "You," he said, in a whispered snarl no one would ever trifle with, "Stay and speak to the police about this morning. And don't," he hissed the last close to his ear, "Misinterpret such things in the future. You'll only embarrass me and manage to hurt yourself. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, father," Arthur said, wrenching his shoulder away, and wincing heavily when such action hurt his injured arm. He put a hand to the knife wound, almost unconsciously.

"And be careful," Uther added, but without tenderness.

"Tom doesn't sell my information to the press," Arthur added, suddenly, and with vehemence.

The police officers waited patiently, and with some embarrassment. They were used to domestic disputes, but they weren't used to observing the private sort of a legal nature.

"I will not discuss this with you now," Uther said tiredly. He turned towards the officers. "Can I be of any more assistance at this time?"

"We've got all your information," said the officer.

"If you need any more, call my receptionist," Uther handed them a business card smoothly and left the parking lot at a steady pace.

Sir Leon was still standing there, gazing with some sympathy towards Arthur. Then he straightened and sighed, as if remembering a chore that had to be done. "Well, for the first time in ages, something newsworthy happened on property instead of out in public. That means no televised appearances or releasing statements. I trust you'll be discreet, gentlemen?"

"Of course," said the officer.

"Then I will leave you to it. Arthur, if you need anything?"

"I'll call," Arthur said briskly.

Leon nodded to Merlin and walked away. The officers began to question Merlin and Arthur about that morning, and from what they could surmise, Valiant had left the gym, scaled a wall into the Albion property, and failed to a show a badge to Elaine at the front desk. When she started to call security, he ran for the elevators.

Security soon caught up with him.

"What do you think he was planning on doing here?" Arthur asked in disbelief. "How does that even work? Like, oi, I want to bug this bloke at the gym, it doesn't work, so I break into his work?"

The officer shrugged. "If you wanted to kill someone and get away with it, wouldn't you make it look like an accident? And then go to where he's bound to go and wait for him to finish the job that didn't work?"

His partner gave him a look.

"I'm just saying," he said.

"It's not our job to speculate," the other officer reminded him.

The conversation was coming to a close. They shook hands. The officers left, and Merlin watched Val's profile in the back of the vehicle as they drove away. He pressed his face to the glass, his eyebrows furrowed, his glare entirely focused on Arthur. Merlin shifted protectively in front of Arthur, almost completely on instinct, blocking Val's look.

"Sod off," Arthur mumbled. "We have a meeting to go to."

Merlin looked away from the police car exiting the parking lot. "After you."

Arthur gestured toward the sky scraper. "Tenth floor."

Merlin followed Arthur's figure up a few steps in the embankment to the edge of the stone plaza at the front of the building. The fountain let out a steady stream, and the sun glinted off pennies that had been thrown in the basin. On a whim, Merlin felt in his pocket. There was lint, chapstick, and a penny. He pulled it out and tossed it into the counted with casual flippancy.

I wish...

"Hurry UP, Merlin!" barked Arthur.

Merlin smiled. Wasn't this what he wished for? But at the same time, it wasn't. Arthur didn't know him, Arthur didn't remember him.

So he made a new wish.

Please, he prayed, Let him live. Let me save him this time. He shut his eyes for a brief moment, at the bottom of the last set of stairs below the wide, glass doors.

Let us be friends again.

"MERLIN!"

He smiled in reply.

:::


:::

Dear readers,

It's been awhile. I hope you haven't lost interest in this story... I certainly haven't. I was just out for awhile with cancer... but I'm back. You can see my profile for details.

Please let me know what you think of episode 2! I think it's more of a filler chapter, but I wanted to lay some groundwork for the environment... their jobs, the relationships, hints of what is to come, some of the places in Camden and a glimpse into Arthur's daily life.

I've missed you all!

Pippin