Bloody hell! Merlin longed to find a gun and shoot himself.
After traveling for days in a tiny and uncomfortable coach, stopping only to eat something or to sleep at an inn, Freya had commenced to scream at the top of her tiny lungs. For hours. And hours.
The wet nurse Anna had tried her best to calm the screaming infant, but Freya continued to sob. Tristan had, of course, joined in the chorus, whining that he wanted go home, and threatening to run away to find his papa. Merlin counted silently to fifty and reminded himself that Camelot was not far now. It had begun to rain, the falling drops drumming against the coach in rhythm to the horses' hooves.
After Freya had cried herself into exhaustion and Tristan's tousled head rested in Merlin's lap, the familiar sight of Camelot surrounded him. I cannot do this, Merlin thought. How could he arrived upon Lord Uther Pendragon's doorstep, demanding to see his husband? But Merlin had no choice. The Great Dragon Estate was no longer safe.
The coach slowed and drew to a halt. The driver opened the door.
"Wait here," Merlin whispered to Anna. The wet nurse nodded, cradling Freya in her arms.
Merlin prayed that Arthur would grant them shelter. It was long past time for callers, and rain pounded the streets. Merlin ignored the rain and marched up to the front door. Knocking, he reminded himself that he have to behave with the haughtiness of a Earl's husband.
A servant opened the door, his eyebrows raised as though Merlin were a rat come in off the streets. Merlin returned the man's curious glare with one of purpose.
"Step back from the door, if you please. I do not intend to stay out longer in this weather."
The servant blinked a moment. "The servants' entrance is in the back."
"Do I look like a servant?" Merlin stepped forward, pushing him out of the way. "And if my husband heard you accusing me as such, he would be most insulted."
The servant's expression turned curious. Merlin unfastened his cloak, offering them to the man. He did not accept the dripping garments.
"Whom shall I say is here?" the servant enquired, still seeming as though he intended to throw Merlin out.
"I am Merlin Emrys, Earl Arthur Pendragon's husband," he said sweeping past the man. "And the Earl is expecting our arrival."
Arthur had asked him to come to Camelot at first, so it wasn't really a lie. Merlin could simply say that he changed his mind. Yes, that was it.
"What's your name?" Merlin inquired the servant.
"I am Cedric," the servant replied.
"So Cedric, we have been traveling a long time. Please have our rooms prepared and ask the kitchen staff to arrange a meal for the children and myself."
Merlin completed his request by crossing his arms, deliberately giving the man a view of his wedding ring on his left hand. At the sight of the ring, Cedric's behaviour changed instantly.
"If you would be so kind to wait here, I shall inform Lord Uther Pendragon of your arrival."
Merlin set his cloak down, pacing as he held back his nerves. Minutes passed by, and at last he heard the sound of footsteps. The servant returned, followed by Lord Uther Pendragon. Merlin clenched his hands so hard, his knuckles turned white.
"What is going on, Cedric?" Uther demanded.
"I'm here to see my husband." Merlin gripped his wedding ring so hard, the metal bit into his skin.
Uther nodded to the servant. "Leave us."
Merlin's defences rose up immediately. He could tell the Lord planned to get rid of him. Did Arthur even know he was here? Not likely, given the smug expression of Cedric as he'd left. Panic set in, replaced by desperation. After his family's scandal, Merlin had no friends in Camelot, no one to turn to. He couldn't possibly let Lord Pendragon send them away.
"You are not welcome here," Uther said without preamble. "Furthermore, you are not going to touch a penny of my son's fortune."
"Damn! I don't want his money. I don't need it."
Uther glanced at Merlin's faded clothes with unconcealed disdain. At Uther's attempt to intimate Merlin, he stiffened. Merlin had no choice but to fight for the children. If they went back, Will's enemies would find them.
"I want to see Arthur," Merlin repeated.
Uther folded his arms, annoyed at Merlin's defiance. "I do not care what you want. My son does not wish to see you again. And if you don't leave of your own accord, I shall have Cedric remove you."
Merlin was strongly tempted to call out to Arthur, in the vain hope his husband would somehow appear and rescue them. He had no other choice but to beg. He couldn't leave, not with the children's future at stake.
"Please. Just let me see him for a moment. I won't cause any trouble."
Outside, Merlin could hear Freya crying again, amid the noise of the Camelot streets. Lord Uther Pendragon said nothing, his face cold and stony with resolution. With a nod from the Lord, the servant appeared from beside the staircase and opened the front door. Merlin stepped backwards, and the icy rain pelted his bare skin.
A moment later, Cedric tossed him the cloak, and Merlin caught it before the door shut firmly. Merlin stared up at the illuminated windows, not caring that the rain had soaked through his clothes.
His husband hadn't come. What had he expected?
Woodenly, Merlin returned to the coach, not knowing what to do next.
"Are we going inside?" Anna asked, bouncing Freya against her shoulder.
Merlin reached out and stroked his niece's head gently while he held back some tears. "No."
Merlin should have been prepared for this. Lord Uther Pendragon had never approved of his childhood friendship with Arthur, a fact that apparently had not changed.
"What will we do?" Anna asked.
"I don't know."
The coachman was waiting for Merlin to make a decision, but he could not think of any other alternatives. Had his husband really wanted to send him away? Or was it Uther's doing? Arthur might not know he was here.
Before he could stop himself, Merlin made a decision and opened the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Anna, tell the driver to circle around the streets. Keep going, and don't stop until you see me outside again."
The sheer force of his will-power drove Merlin to do something rash. The rain blinded him, but he pushed through it, moving towards the servant's entrance. As he'd hoped, it was unlocked.
Merlin found the back staircase and took the steps two at a time before some servants could pursue him. If Arthur were here, he would find him.
Dripping wet, Merlin steeled himself in case Lord Pendragon appeared. He didn't. He listened carefully at each door, moving down the hall. Not knowing his whereabouts, at last he choose a door and opened it.
A brunette-haired woman in an emerald-green-coloured dress sat reading. She stifled a shriek at the sight of Merlin.
"Merlin Emrys, what on earth are you doing here?"
He recognised Lady Helena. "I'm looking for my husband."
Lady Helena gaped at him. "Does Arthur know you are here?"
Merlin shook his head, "Please forgive me, Lady Helena, but I'm in a bit of hurry. Which room is he in, please."
Lady Helena tilted her head to one side, a curious look on her face. "My husband doesn't know you are here, does he?"
Merlin didn't want to admit the truth, so he said, "I must see my husband. I would not be here, if it were not urgent."
"Well then...he is down the hall, third door on your right." Lady Helena eyed Merlin's sodden clothing. "Would you care to change your clothes?"
"Thank you. But I won't be long."
Merlin nodded farewell to Lady Helena and peered out the door. No one was about, so he tore across the hallway. Throwing open the door, he closed it behind him. Arthur was in the midst of disrobing, his tunic fully unbuttoned and hanging off his shoulders.
Upon the back of his neck was a black tattoo, similar to his brother's Now where had Arthur gotten that? He hadn't had it on their wedding night.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Arthur pulled the tunic back on, a frown upon his face. "I thought you were going to stay at the Great Dragon Estate."
At the sight of Arthur's bare chest, Merlin backed away. Arthur moved towards him, and Merlin averted his eyes, trying not to look at Arthur's chest. Deep ridges of muscle were marred by a jagged scar several inches long. The skin had healed, but the redness remained from the knife wound.
"I changed my mind." Merlin simply stated.
"You're soaking wet. Come over by the fire and dry off."
"I don't have time. The children are outside," Merlin said. "I would have brought them with me, except your father tossed me into the streets."
Arthur's face tightened with anger. "Did he?" It infuriated him that his husband had come to Camelot, and his father had treated him poorly. "I'm glad you didn't let that stop you."
Arthur took a step forward, "Stand by the hearth and warm yourself," he murmured. "I'll send a servant to collect the children."
"Your father won't want them here." Merlin replied.
Arthur didn't particularly care what his father wanted, but it was late, and he had no interest in arguing. "I'll make other arrangements, then. I just purchased a house a few miles from here, it should do well enough."
Arthur reached out and palmed the back of Merlin's neck, massaging the tensions. The softness of his skin intrigued him, and Arthur let his hand slide lower.
"W-What are you doing?" Merlin's skin rose with goose bumps, his voice shaky. "Keep your hands to yourself, Pendragon."
Arthur lowered his mouth to Merlin's shoulder, inhaling the herbal scent of his skin. Merlin shivered. His cheeks redden, his pupils blown wide.
"D-Don't make me remember this." he whispered.
Arthur stopped, but held Merlin's hand, his fingers encircling the wedding ring. Then reluctantly, he let Merlin go. Merlin's shoulders lowered with relief. Arthur donned his tunic and grabbed a jacket.
"Come." He took Merlin by the hand, leading him down the servant's staircase. "The coach is outside?"
Merlin nodded. Arthur located his overcoat and an umbrella, following Merlin outside. "There. I see it."
Arthur signalled to the coachman and within moments they were inside the vehicle. He recognised the driver from the Great Dragon Estate and was thankful that at least his husband had enough sense to bring an escort with them. After giving the coachman the direction, they were on their way.
When Arthur sat beside Merlin, the young boy scowled. "What is he doing here?"
"Tristan," Merlin warned.
"I'm taking you to a warm bed to sleep," Arthur remarked. "Unless you'd rather I leave you outside in the rain?"
Tristan's frown deepened, and he crossed his arms. "I'd rather sleep anywhere else than in your house."
Arthur was not about to tolerate such insolence. Knocking against the coach's door, he ordered the driver to stop.
"What are you doing?" Merlin looked horrified.
Arthur opened the door. "Be my guest," he invited the boy.
There was just enough fear, just enough uncertainty to keep Tristan frozen in his seat. When he didn't move, Arthur shut the door.
"Understand this. I will not abide rudeness in the presence of your uncle. You will respect my authority and obey."
The boy's face filled with fury, but he managed a nod.
"Good." Arthur signalled for the coachman to drive on.
But one matter was certain - he and the boy were now clear enemies.