Disclaimer: All likenesses to any characters of the TV show Merlin belong to the BBC, or whatevs.
Author's Note: THIRD CHAPTER, hey-o! Fourth is a comin'. We find out more about Merlin next chapter! Yay!
Summary: Arthur Pendragon has had enough. He's run away to become Camelot, and work as a busboy in Ealdor, where he meets mysterious stranger Merlin Emrys, whose new goal in life is saving Camelot.
Warnings: The rating is M because of language in early chapters, and potential sexual situations in later chapters.
---
Arthur's first day spent with Merlin is awkward and uncomfortable, and they barely talked after the first few words they exchanged after they left the diner. But by the end of the day, Arthur knows a little more about Ealdor, and he doesn't completely hate Merlin.
The next day he arrives for work early, so he can get everything sorted for the normally big rush for breakfast on Saturday. Gwen's there early, as well. They exchange brief greetings, before Gwen is called back into the kitchen by Hunith, requesting help with the pancake mix.
Arthur busies himself by making sure every salt and pepper shaker is filled, the cream and sugar is laid out for tea and coffee, and the paper placemats are in place. He's so busy scrubbing at some syrup on the seat that he doesn't notice Will and Merlin enter, though they were chatting awfully loud for so early in the morning.
When he finally notices that they're there, neither one acknowledges him. And Arthur is kind of grateful for that. Hunith comes scurrying out of the kitchen, pausing to press a kiss to Will's cheek, and then Merlin's, then flips the sign on the door to 'open.'
Arthur's helping with waiting today, he was expected to on Saturdays and Sundays. He barely noticed when Merlin left, bidding everybody a goodbye, except for him. But it wasn't like Arthur cared or anything. He and Merlin weren't friends. They only tolerated each other for Hunith's sake.
Arthur only messed up twice today, which was good for it being only his 3rd time waiting during a big rush like this. When the rush is over, Hunith tells him he could have the rest of the day off, and then asks if Arthur would like to have dinner over her house tonight. Arthur wonders at all the niceness all of a sudden. Hunith had always been nice, of course, but giving him the afternoons off? On a Saturday?
He didn't argue though. He was tired, and he thought it'd be nice to relax at home, in his little inn room. He could catch up on sleep he really wasn't missing, and then spend a lazy afternoon watching a movie, or maybe exploring the new things about the town that Merlin had taught him. And then he'd join Hunith for dinner.
Hef grunted, he grunted, and he went to make his way to his room.
"Ah! Ya wait right there, son," Hef called, "Ya got mail."
Arthur's brows furrowed, "Mail?" he asked, turning around and heading back to the desk. He had never gotten mail here before. He wondered why a townsperson would send him mail when they could just as easily find him and tell him in person. "From who?"
"Like I know, I ain't about to commit no federal offence and go off readin' ya's mail," Hef said, shoving the plain white, unassuming envelope at Arthur. It was addressed to 'Camelot DuBois' and postage stamped from some P.O. box in America.
He waited until he was in his room to open the letter, barely remembering to turn on a lamp to read it. He sat on the edge of his bed and tore open the seal, then pulled out a sheet of yellow lined paper, and smoothed it over his lap.
'Arthur,
You really are a great kind of prat for running off like that, you know. (It was Morgana's writing, and definitely Morgana's diction.) Don't ask how I found you, a Lady never divulges her secrets. And I promise I won't tell anyone where you are. Your secret is safe with me. (Arthur kind of doubted that, but he wanted to believe, so he did.)
A few things have been happening that I thought you might be interested in knowing about, since you've so graciously cut yourself from our lives. Father and I have relocated to the United States for a while. Father is wooing some new business partners. You know how it is.
But that's not all he's wooing. There's some blonde tart named Vivian, who's younger than you, that's taken to hanging onto Father's every word, and just recently they absconded to a hotel room separate from mine. (Arthur wrinkled his nose. Honestly, his father had no class when it came to women.)
I thought you should know all this, because Father has been speaking of settling down lately, and I think he may do something incredibly stupid. Like father like son, they say. (Arthur sucked a sharp breath in; his father couldn't possibly be entertaining the idea of marriage with someone younger than his own son—let alone with someone at all!)
If you want to write back, be discreet, and use this address. It's pretty much untraceable. Try not to get into too much trouble. The poor little town you're in probably isn't ready for the Arthur Pendragon ego.
With Love,
Morgana.'
Arthur sat staring at the letter, and then re-reading it, for almost a whole hour. Not only was his father dating some stupid blonde bird that sounded suspiciously like somebody who just wanted a sugar daddy, but he had ran away to New York. He didn't even seem to be looking for Arthur. It was Morgana who had found him.
Was his father really not so concerned with his absence that he'd move a continent away? Arthur supposed business was business, but it still inexplicably hurt. Arthur didn't understand the wave of emotions, since he had never been too emotional. But it made him feel breathless and dizzy and sick.
He barely heard the knock on the door, and hadn't really registered that he replied with a glum 'come in.' He expected maybe it was Gwen, or Mrs. Grinde, who often came to collect laundry or deliver new linens.
"Cam? Camelot, are you alright?" Arthur looked up quickly when it wasn't a female's voice, or Hef's. He narrowed his eyes when he spotted Merlin, and quickly shoved the letter behind his back.
"Erm, yeah. I'm fine," Arthur said quickly, shoving the letter under his pillow and standing to his feet. "What are you doing here?" And he hadn't meant for it to sound so rude, but he was quietly trying to get over some inner-turmoil and Merlin just had to interrupt.
Merlin scowled, before quickly schooling his features into one of indifference, "Mum's asked me to come by and deliver your paycheck," he said, holding out the envelope to Arthur. Arthur took it almost numbly, "Are you sure you're alright? You look kind of pale and sickly," Merlin commented.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Arthur waved his hand, "I'm sorry. I'm just a little tired, I guess."
"Understandable," Merlin muttered, then backed towards the door, "Maybe you should take a nap before you come to dinner tonight."
"You're going to be there?" Arthur asked dumbly.
Merlin gave him a look that said 'well duh' and replied slowly, as if talking to a deaf child, "Yes, Camelot, I live there."
"Oh, right, yeah. I'll just get some rest then. And uh, thanks, for bringing this by," Arthur waved the check as if he were waving Merlin off, and Merlin took it as his cue to back out of the door and shut it behind him.
Arthur collapsed on his bed, and found he really was exhausted. He didn't even bother to change out of his jeans and button-up before falling asleep. It wasn't hard.
---
Arthur was woken up by an insistent knocking on his door. An annoying little 'tap tap tap' three second pause 'tap tap tap.' And repeat. He scowled at the door, trying to use whatever mental powers he thought he might've possessed when he was younger to push the presence on the other side of the door away.
'Tap tap tap' it continued. Arthur grumbled and shouted for whoever it was to come in. He stood up and pealed his button-up off, then his undershirt, back to the door. "I'll strip the linens off in a second, Mrs. Grinde, I think this shirt needs washing, I drooled on it a bit."
Arthur heard a giggle that definitely wasn't hefty but pleasant Mrs. Grinde. It was distinctively Gwen. And then a thick swallow that wasn't Gwen. He turned around slowly, shirt halfway pulled above his head, his hands tangled in the fabric.
"Oh uh, hey Gwen, hey Merlin," was all he could think to say. Gwen was blushing and grinning and giggling. Merlin was just staring, kind of slack-jawed, and blushing as well.
It was Gwen who managed to talk first. "You've got a piece of paper stuck to your bum, Arthur. Oh, and also, we're here to pick you up. So come on, then. We'll wait downstairs." Gwen pulled Merlin out by his elbow and Arthur felt his day couldn't get any worse.
He finished undressing, and then dressed as quickly as he could in a pair of dress slacks and a different button-up dress shirt. He left his linens and dirty clothes in a pile, just in case Mrs. Grinde really did come by.
He was in no rush to go downstairs. He really hoped it would've been just Gwen that had come by. He hadn't known she was going to be at dinner, but now that he did, it would've been preferable. Especially since, when he stepped outside, he could see Will there too, eyeing him with disdain as he always did.
And he was standing next to two motor-scooters. Arthur wrinkled his nose and stepped back in distaste.
"What's the matter, Cammy? 'fraid of a little scooter ride?" Will drawled, and Arthur really hated it when he called him Cammy. Cam was fine, and so was Camelot, but not Cammy. He could hear Merlin cough to cover up a laugh.
"Of course not," Arthur said, sounding every bit the haughty spoiled boy he had been back in London. He wasn't afraid, of course, he had just never ridden a scooter. He was always chauffeured around, or drove himself in expensive cars. He was not adverse to alternative modes of transportation. He was an avid horse rider, and had even once, on a whim, learned how to fly a hot air balloon.
Gwen was already mounted behind Will on his green scooter, helmets already firmly in place. Merlin was smirking and holding out a helmet towards Arthur, and Arthur realized he'd have to ride tandem with Merlin. Couldn't he just walk? Arthur voiced this question.
"That'd be stupid, it's too far. Just take the helmet and get on, Cam," Merlin sighed, shoving the helmet at Arthur and placing his own on his head. Arthur slammed the helmet on over his head and scowled at Merlin, even though Merlin couldn't see. He climbed on behind Merlin, and Merlin turned his head to tell him to hang on, and Arthur just scowled again and begrudgingly wrapped an arm around Merlin's waist, as he had seen Gwen do to Will.
He felt silly and awkward, hanging tightly to Merlin as the slighter boy whipped through the streets like a tornado on his scooter. He and Will seemed to be in some kind of race, and Merlin was currently in the lead. And Arthur felt something akin to excitement, then. Competition was something Arthur could rarely pass up.
He urged Merlin faster by squeezing him around the waist, and Merlin glanced briefly over his shoulder, grinning, before giving it all she got. He weaved almost effortlessly through the cars parked on the street, and there weren't really any cars on the road, so it was pretty much all clear.
As if they hit some invisible wall, both Merlin and Will slowed down suddenly, though the race was still on. Arthur could see a little cluster of houses coming up along the road, and he figured that was where Merlin lived.
"Come on," Arthur whispered urgently, though he wasn't sure if Merlin could hear him. Will was closing the gap and slowly taking the lead. "Come on, Merlin!" Arthur urged a bit louder, and Merlin took the hint and sped up a little. But it was too late and Will was skidding to a halt in front of an unassuming little house that looked welcoming and warm enough.
Arthur couldn't bring himself to look for long though. He removed his helmet and smoothed his hair, then glared at Merlin. "We could've won," he hissed, glaring towards Will, who was taking off his own helmet to gloat.
"Looks like I've won again, Merlin. You a bit rusty after all that classy living in London?" Will asked, waggling his eyebrows at Merlin, and pulling a face. Arthur was certain that in a second Will would be sticking his tongue out.
Arthur scowled, and Merlin laughed. Arthur glared harder. "Hey! Gwen's much skinnier than Cam! I had all that deadweight! Excalbiur isn't used to that!"
"Hey! I'm not fat!" Arthur cried indignantly, and they all had a good laugh about that. All of them, except Arthur, that is.
Hunith flung open the door, smiling warmly, "Come on then, get your merry little butts inside before dinner gets cold!" she called, waving them all inside. "You're not fat, Camelot," she whispered as he passed, and he heard Merlin snort in an attempt to hold his laughter in as he walked behind him.
---
Dinner was a surprisingly pleasant affair. Once they got over the awkwardness of having so many people at such a small table that all their knees seemed to be touching, the conversation moved smoothly from one topic to the next. Arthur had almost completely forgotten the whole mess with his father in America.
The main line of conversation happened to be about Merlin's time in London. Every once in a while, Merlin would ask Arthur about where he was from in London, what he did, where he went, and Arthur would have to carefully lie about it.
The wine flowed freely, and soon everybody was flushed and happy and even Will had stopped glaring at Arthur. Everyone except Merlin. He wasn't drinking. When Arthur asked him why, Merlin just shrugged and said he really didn't like to drink, and Hunith beamed proudly at her son.
Dessert was a pie that Gwen had made, a delicious cream pie topped with strawberries. Everybody was quiet through the dessert course, taking their time to savor and thoroughly enjoy the pie. And then everybody sat back, Will with his hands on his stomach and licking his lips, Hunith sighing happily, and Merlin doing this ridiculously obscene thing with his fork, trying to get all the cream out from between the prongs.
Arthur had really enjoyed the night. It was almost like he was eating with family. Not his family. His family dinners were normally a lot more formal, and his father would find his new friends' manners atrocious, really. But Arthur rather liked it. It was intimate and informal and everything Arthur supposed he had been looking for when he had run away.
When it was getting late, and everyone had taken to yawning, Merlin stood from the table and looked to Arthur, "I suppose I'll give you a ride home now," he said, eyeing Arthur carefully. Arthur wasn't really drunk, just a little tipsy, and he barely wobbled when he stood. But Merlin placed a steadying hand on his elbow anyways, and Arthur couldn't complain.
After bidding everyone goodbye, even Will, Arthur let Merlin lead him outside and to the scooter, and he handed Arthur a helmet silently. Ever since Arthur had avoided a question about where he had lived in London, Merlin had been watching him weirdly. Arthur found himself not caring much as he wrapped both his arms around Merlin's waist and pressed his forehead to Merlin's back.
He felt Merlin heave a sigh before taking off. It wasn't the mad rush it was to get here. It was a leisurely pace, and Merlin was even obeying the traffic laws now. But Arthur couldn't help but feel it was a little too soon that they arrived at the inn. He swung off the scooter a bit wobbily, but waved off Merlin's offer to help. He handed Merlin his helmet back and thanked him.
"It was no problem. Get some sleep, yeah? Mum's closing the diner tomorrow and going into town to restock, so you can sleep in," Merlin told him. Arthur doubted he'd remember it. But for now he was grateful.
"I guess you're alright, Merlin," he said, standing awkwardly on the curb.
"Yeah, you're alright, too, Camelot," Merlin said, and his voice had a queer little trill to it, as if he were curious and sad and sorry all at once, but Arthur's mind was too fuzzy to put much thought into it.
"'Night Merlin."
"Goodnight, Cam."