I just want to say thanks to brenda k. You weren't signed in for your review, so I couldn't say it there, but thank you very much. I hope I continue do justice to the character. –smile-

Chapter 10 – Acting Blind

Rag in hand, I cleaned and polished my mother's dining room table. The counters were clear and shining. The carpets were so fresh they may have been new. I ran my rag over the wood of the table until I could virtually see myself in it. It may have just been me, but I could feel a bounce when I walked.

Mordred sat on the couch, leaning over the back to watch me work. He looked mildly concerned for my mental health, but I paid him little mind. The young teen just stared at me until the door opened from the lift. He instantly knew who it was coming in and slowly turned a pointed look toward me.

"Mum! Arthur's lost his marbles!" he called out as though he were tattling on me. I gave him a half hearted glare.

"I have not!" I called back.

"I'll believe that when I see it… Goodness. It smells so clean in here. Have you boys been working?" my mother asked as she took her shoes off and headed to the living room to set down her bags. She froze when she got there and put a hand to her mouth. She looked around the room and then into the dining room. With slow, careful steps, she moved to see into the kitchen.

"Oh my…," we all she could say.

"I told you so," Mordred said. "He's been hoping around the house and cleaning ever since he woke up this morning. Mom, I don't want a crazy person for a brother. What happened to Arthur?"

"Shove off," I whined. "Just because I cleaned up doesn't mean I've lost it."

"Is it a holiday?" mother asked. "Someone's birthday? Have I forgotten something?"

"No," I laughed, unable to stay upset. I sort of slid over to my mother and hugged her. "I just wanted to do something nice for you. Besides, I had all of this energy held inside me. I had to do something with it."

I watched my mother's face shift from surprise to pleased to proud. Then she reached her hand up to my face and caressed my cheek. I smiled and leaned into it a bit. She let out a soft chuckle. Her other hand rested on my shoulder.

"Honey… Are you in love?" she asked, glee evident in her voice.

The smile dropped off my face. I replaced it with oblivious confusion.

"No," I answered quickly and turned away from her. I went back to the table and wiped at it in a deliberately harsh manner, nothing like what I'd been doing earlier.

"He's blushing!" Mordred exclaimed, pointing an excited finger at me. I threw my rag at his head and caused him to fall backwards off the couch. Victory.

"Oh, Arthur, stop that," My mother scolded gently. She stepped up to me and grabbed my arm. "It's not something to be ashamed of if you are," she continued. "But when in the world did you find time to fall in love?"

I grabbed her hands and held them between us. Our gazes locked, mine steady and revealing nothing. After a second, when I was sure she was paying attention, I spoke, slowly so she wouldn't misunderstand.

"Mother, I am not in love," I clarified. "I just happen to have a good friend… for once." I cast a side glare at Mordred, who was propped up on the couch again, grinning like an idiot. "Is that clear?"

"Sure sure," Mordred agreed flippantly, waving his hand as though to push away any other thoughts on the matter. He didn't believe me at all, I could tell.

"Okay then," My mother consented, nodding her head and lowering her hands out of my grasp. "Well I'm happy for you either way."

With that, she pat me on the shoulder and thanked me for my hard work. I watched her walk into the kitchen to start cooking, using the book I bought her on my second trip to the bookstore. It was probably best if I didn't let her know about the kissing bit. I wasn't entirely sure how she'd react, but I was certain it would be in a flurry of supportive, girl emotion that I just couldn't handle right now. Plus, she was bound to tell father, and I'd already decided not to give him any details.

On Sunday afternoon, I took Merlin down to the pier again. We sat in the sand wearing dorky swimming trunks and listened. For almost an hour we heard the waves, the wind, and the seagulls… which I could have done without. They were loud and screeching at times. I was shirtless. Merlin was not. The beach was mostly disserted due to the dropping weather, but it was still early November, so it wasn't that bad. We could probably still go in the water so long as we didn't stay in too long and wrapped ourselves in towels as soon as we got out.

"Have you told anyone yet?" Merlin's voice broke the calm.

I looked over at him through my sunglasses. He was wearing his as well, but I could see his eyes were closed. He looked really good in his navy blue swimming trunks and matching short sleeved shirt. His hair moved gently in the wind and I briefly wanted to touch it. I mentally blocked that desire and focused on his words.

"Told who about what?" I asked.

"Everyone, about the kissing," he clarified, turning to look at me. His eyes opened and I stared through the glare of the sun and the darkness of the lenses to see his pale blue eyes.

"No, not yet. They all know about you though. I seem to be terrible at hiding things. They'll find out soon enough," I answered, tilting my head to block some of the glare. "Merlin, how long have you been blind?"

"Six years," he replied instantly, looking back out at the ocean.

"Liar."

"I'm not lying. I had an accident six years ago. You can ask my mom," Merlin defended. I snorted.

"Not that, idiot. I mean you lied to me weeks ago. You keep telling me you've been blind most of your life. Sorry, but last I checked, you weren't eleven," I accused gently. Merlin smirked, still not looking toward me.

"How do you know? Maybe I'm just big for my age," he teased.

"Good point. Maybe I'm a pedophile," I pondered aloud. That did it. He laughed. I smiled for a moment, but as his laughter died away, I frowned. My eyebrows narrowed in seriousness. "Seriously though… what happened?"

"An accident," Merlin repeated himself. "Nothing big."

"What kind of accident?" I pressed. I was eager to know.

"It's not important. It happened six years ago," Merlin assured me, turning to give me a smile. I opened my mouth to protest, but he met my struggle with a kiss. I couldn't argue that, so I simply returned the pressure. "Don't worry about it," he murmured.

"Will you tell me one day?" I asked, my voice soft. We were so close.

"Sure. One day," he agreed. I kissed him again. I understood why he wouldn't tell me. It had to be a sensitive subject, the memory of losing his sight. It must be painful, physically and emotionally. I'd leave it alone for now.

Wow. Lancelot was right. I was changing. A few weeks ago, I would have thrown a fit at not getting what I wanted. I smiled into the string of kisses we had begun. Crushes were good for me.

"You want to get in the water?" I asked when I managed to pull away.

"And get a cold? No way," and Merlin's voice was somehow serious and teasing at the same time. "But there is something I want to do."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" I asked, almost turning my full body to look at him. Merlin did turn. He crossed his legs and rotated all the way around to face me.

"I want to feel you," he said.

At first I was stunned. Feel me? What on God's green and blue Earth did that mean? Then I thought of the movies and how all the blind characters seemed to like to feel their partner's faces to 'see' them. That must be what Merlin was talking about, I told myself. I nodded before remembering he couldn't see it.

"Sure."

Merlin's hands reached up, tentative and shy at first, and did in fact land on my face. They were sand free, surprisingly, and he felt out my cheeks and the bone structure. As he felt out everything but my lips and eyes, I began to feel as though he was checking for imperfections rather than checking for features. Still, his fingers dragging over my skin was oddly sensational and pleasant. I closed my eyes to enjoy it just as he moved his hands away.

Before I could even reopen my eyes, his hands were back… but not on my face. They were on my neck, feeling out the curve and shape of my collarbone and shoulders. I shivered but didn't open my eyes. Maybe it was better if I didn't watch what he was doing right now. I let my other senses take over to follow Merlin's movements and his fingers then found my chest.

He hesitated here, waiting a moment just below my throat as though expecting me to stop him. I suppose I normally would, but I didn't. After that second, Merlin's hands moved again, slowly and meticulously feeling out the contours of my muscles, beautiful and stunningly trained. I heard Merlin make an extremely soft but interested noise. I smirked.

"Like what you feel?" I teased, boasting partially. I opened my eyes in time to see Merlin's face change from pale with a tint of pink to full on red.

"Yeah," he muttered. Just then, his hands reached my stomach. I thought he might go lower, but instead he pulled his hands back.

"What's the diagnosis, Doctor?" I asked mock-seriously. Merlin blushed a bit more, if that was possible, and smiled.

"You'll be happy to know you feel gorgeous," he answered clearly despite his obviously flustered state.

"You're happy to know that what you're snogging is the best looking man in Britain," I corrected and leaned in for one of those many kisses.

"Yeah. I suppose that's a plus," Merlin agreed. I kissed him again. "Although I hear Lancelot's really hot too."

I hit him for that one, but I don't think it made any difference. He was smiling like an idiot afterward.

Change doesn't happen instantly. I discovered that the hard way. Tuesday, I was at work. My schedule was jamming rather close together this week. I'd been too busy to even call Merlin on Monday. Today I was barely managing to txt him. That wasn't the issue though. The movie was the issue, as usual.

We had a new character in the scenes this time. She was a simple character, just a woman who popped in to give a cryptic message and pop back out. So what was the issue? She was blind…. Not the actress. The character was blind… from birth.

I know. That shouldn't have bothered me a bit. I knew Merlin. I should have been able to pass it off easily… but maybe knowing Merlin was the issue. She had barely walked on screen and I was already against her. She walked slowly, finding her steps carefully and yet gracefully. Then, when she reached me, she kept her eyes down all the time and never looked up at me. When she grabbed my hand, the moment when she should have her amazing premonition of the future, she looked slightly to the left but did not raise her eyes as she gasped.

Needless to say, I sort of lost it.

When she gasped at her 'vision', I ripped my hand back from her. At first it seemed like I was acting, but then I pushed her. She stumbled back and fell over and down the short stairs of the set. People started murmuring to themselves and talking loudly in the background. A pair of medical advisors ran up to check her. They were on standby because of the set we were using. She was glaring up at me through her icy contacts.

"Arthur!? What are you doing?!" someone yelled at me. I glared right back at the woman on the ground as a nurse checked her wrist. I was pretty sure I'd broken it, though she hadn't made much noise over it.

"You expect me to work with someone like this? She can't even act her part!" I accused, pointing a finger at her. "She stumbles around like some kind of idiot!"

"I'm blind!" the woman wailed. I winced briefly and then shook my head.

"Exactly! You're character has been blind from birth and is gifted with foresight! What kind of naturally blind magician can't walk a straight line?! And another thing! What blind person keeps their eyes on the floor?! They can't see! They look wherever they bloody hell want to! You seem more like a silly, newly-healed, cripple baby!" I yelled.

The director headed for me, probably no doubt to kick me off the set for the day or something, but that's when the scene behind everyone fell over. I spun around to look at it, completely shocked. I hadn't had anything to do with that. I swear to Christ.

"Holy God almighty," someone gasped out. I think it was Anthony Head to my right. I was playing his son and he was the main character.

"That set is held together with iron bars! How did it fall over?!" the director began to yell. Soon there was nothing but yelling. Adrenaline pumped through me as my mind tried to wrap around all that was happening.

The mysterious set fall had a dozen people crowding around to try and fix it and figure out what had happened. The set manager was furious. The medical staff was loudly explaining to the young actress that her wrist had a minor fracture and they needed to take her in for a cast. They had to yell to be heard over everyone else, which included the actors. Managers and agents were being phoned and the director was ordering everyone off the stage until it could be proven safe. There was so much noise, more noise than I had ever heard on a set outside of an action scene with lots of explosions. I jumped off of the set and hurried over to my chair where my jacket sat. What did I do now? Somewhere, though I couldn't place which direction, I heard the director yelling for all the stars to return to their trailers until they received further instruction. I was ready to agree.

I hurried out of the area as fast as I could and up into my trailer, slamming the door behind me. The silence allowed me space, unlike the normal silence that crushed me. This silence gave me room to calm down and figure out exactly what I was feeling. I thanked it in my mind.

Then there was a knock on my trailer door. I half expected it to be the director or a PR man come to tell me I was banned from the set or something. However, I was pleased to find that not the case… or really 'pleased' isn't the right word. When I opened the door, Lancelot was smiling up at me. I gave a half smile.

"Oh… Lancelot… Hello," I greeted poorly. What did he want and why was he smiling like that?

"That was great," Lancelot said and moved past me into my trailer. "I mean, it wasn't as hard as I'd thought it would be and I don't even feel as guilty as I expected. All I had to do was loosen one spring and the whole thing came down! I mean wasn't that great?! And the timing was perfect too."

Well he was rather pleased with himself, wasn't he?

"Wait. Are you telling me that it was you who knocked down the wall?" I asked, incredulous. No way could Mr. Big and Perfect ruin a set like that with no guilt whatsoever. No way.

"Yeah. I knew you were getting into some trouble so I did the first thing I could think of. I released the set wall. It was made with iron bars but it was only a small latch to unhook everything," he explained. He continued to beam at his handiwork.

"You don't do this sort of thing often do you?" I asked, leaning on the arm of the attached sofa. Lancelot shook his head.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Only a lot. I mean, even I wouldn't be this stupidly giddy over breaking a set. Then again, I always got yelled at for messing up sets," I mused shortly. "Anyway, yeah… stop grinning like a loon and you might get away with doing it."

"Right," Lancelot agreed. He nodded and forced himself to frown. It was actually rather amusing. My perfect cousin had strayed from the path of perfectness to save me and become imperfect. Wow. Maybe Merlin was right and I had a complex. Still, it was… somehow heartwarming to understand that it had all been done to save me from my own outburst.

"Lance," I said, using a nickname and catching his attention. He couldn't help but smile at me. I gave a small grin in return. "Thanks."

"Are we on a nickname basis?" he teased. I frowned instantly.

"Definitely not. But if you keep talking like an idiot, we will be on a 'kicking Lancelot out of my trailer' basis," I assured him and walked to my mini-fridge. I knelt down to grab each of us a beer, still debating if I was even going to offer him one.

"Is he blind?"

"What?" I asked, standing up and nearly running my head into the overhead cabinet.

"The mystery guy who's changing you, is he blind?" Lancelot repeated. I frowned contemplatively over at my cousin.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked, parroting him from earlier. He must have noticed, because he let out a laugh and smirked.

"Only a lot," he said.

I couldn't begin to decide when I'd begun to feel comfortable around Lancelot, but if I had to chose, this moment would have been it. We both smiled at each other in that knowing way before we grabbed ourselves some beer and settled down on the couch to have a much overdo conversation. He told me all about meeting and courting to Guinevere and, after much alcohol and being possessed by some unknown crazy man, I allowed Lancelot to be privy to my relationship with Merlin… everything up until the kissing. I left out the kissing. I would trust Lancelot, but not that far. I had no idea how he'd react to information like that. His superstar cousin was gay and liked kissing some random guy he met in a bookstore? Hell, even I'd think I was crazy if I wasn't living it… and then sometimes I still did.

Preview: Chapter 11 - Day Four:

I was pissed like a fire hydrant after a dog gets hold of it. I was burning like acid, the searing pain kind and the hallucinogen at the same time.

Four days ago, Merlin was regaling me with a tale from his childhood. Then, Merlin let off an activated, explosive mine.

"Listen," I began, "It's only a week. I can survive a week without you… I'm sure you could last months without me. It'll be fine.

Day one, two, three. I went to sleep feeling as though I'd forgotten to do something. My phone hadn't gone off for a txt message at all. Even I could tell how desperate and pathetic I sounded. If I were Morgana, I would hang up now.

"Now listen… listen closely, Arthur, because this is the most important part," she stressed.

"Morgana?" I asked softly.

"Yes, Arthur?"

"Is this how friends act?"