It wasn't that the royal family was under attack that worried Merlin, because he was the most unpatriotic of all the British citizens in that he didn't care about the royal family at all. He knew, eventually, something would have to be done with them, after all you can't put a man on a throne when someone else already has it.
He'd spent a lot of time considering the possibilities when he was younger, but the quest to find Arthur had taken precedence over the many fancy's he'd conjured up. After all, none of it was relevant if he couldn't find Arthur. But he had Arthur now, sort of, and if he hadn't spent the last months mooning over the man he might have gotten to this issue sooner.
For all intents and purposes it seemed like someone was doing him a favour. But it wasn't a favour he had been looking for, and it was one thing to think they needed to go, but quite another to turn the news on and see a barrage of flowers across the gates of Buckingham Palace.
"Why do they lay flowers there? She lived on her own estate." Lancelot sounded almost annoyed.
"They always do that. They did it for the other one as well." Merlin dismissed. He was sick of this channel, it was doing the same read out every five minutes, and they had nothing to add to any of it yet.
All they knew was the fire had killed thirty seven people and one princess, she'd been there on a whim, upstairs in the private part of the club. The part that had been blocked off entirely. No-one on that floor survived. The news hadn't even connected the two royal murders (no that they knew yet that this second was a murder – that was all assumption). They'd mentioned the other girl, mourning the second tragedy to hit the royal family so recently, but they hadn't connected it. Maybe knowing about a poisoning attempt made it a bit easier to see, but Merlin couldn't unsee it.
"Anyone else die recently?" Lancelot gave him a look, which Merlin didn't need explained. "I mean, any other royals?" Merlin clarified, but this time it looked like Lancelot wasn't sure. He turned his attention to his computer, the TV no longer any use (he left it on anyway).
The lounge wasn't comfortable enough, so he took the computer to his dinning table, pulling out a note book so he could scribble the details as he went. It made no sense to kill such low ranking royals. Apparently the princess had been sixth in line for the throne, but the little girl? The little girl had been 17th in line, it hardly seemed efficient to anything to kill someone that far down the list if you were trying to do… something. Like everything else, it made no sense. None of it did.
Arthur arrived back at Merlins only to have a perplexed Lancelot open the door. For a moment Arthur was surprised, then he pushed that aside, because it was clear these two had formed a friendship and he wasn't possessive enough to deny Merlin friendships (a part of him wanted to be, but he made himself be reasonable).
"You're here again, are you?" Arthur walked in past Lancelot. "Why are you here again?" He couldn't help the demand.
"They haven't released his friends body."
"No." Arthur scowled, "I suppose they wouldn't." It was just another thing to rub salt into Merlins wounds. Just another thing to make it harder to readjust (not that Arthur expected the man to get over it that quickly, but there were things that would help).
"Do they think the culprit was amongst those lost?"
"If you were going to burn somewhere down, would you lock yourself in there as well?" Arthur bit back, even if was hoping it was true and the culprit was dead, he wasn't going to fool himself.
"Arthur." Merlin acknowledged and when Arthur found him he was in the midst of a pile of papers and books that Arthur was sure he'd never seen before. He went to ask what was happening, but the eye contact Merlin flicked at him was brief and gone immediately.
"Right." Arthur turned his attention away from what looked to be very official documents (that Arthur was sure Merlin should not have access to) back to Lancelot, who was looking pensive.
"He's been watching the news." It was said like an explanation, as if Merlins sudden focus on study could be explained by something as simple as news. Arthur glanced out at the TV and the reel on the Princesses death was playing again. Well wishes, crying mourners, 'best of' photos, a list of credits from a short lifetime of being in public eye, the Queen's statement, and the two princes appeals for calm. All of it in an unending loop. He shuddered to consider the kind of horrible things that would be up there if one of the two Princes themselves had died. The way the nation would be reacting. It did not bear thinking about, so he swapped his attention back to Merlin.
"Have I been on?" Arthur checked with Lancelot (he really didn't care if Merlin was paying attention, he was so over that point it wasn't even a consideration anymore), because not everyone could be as dense as Merlin appeared to be. He wasn't shockingly famous, true, but the press always seemed to hunt out even the most obscure connections when given a chance.
"Were you involved?" Lancelot was surprised.
"No. But…" well that was awkward, "well I was on the news recently," He gestured bitterly at the TV, "and they do like to dredge everything up when they get the chance."
"They are some of the worst kind of men." Lancelot agreed and Arthur liked him a little bit more for that. "We have not spoken properly." Lancelot observed, then held out his hand formally. "I am Lancelot Degas, friend to your Merlin, it is a pleasure to met you."
Automatic training had Arthur shaking the proffered hand. "Arthur." He glanced at Merlin, who wasn't paying any attention, but didn't feel secure enough to declare himself Merlins boyfriend – even if he wanted to. Did it count as being someone's boyfriend when it was such a one-sided romance? He liked to think it did, but logic wasn't on his side.
"You too-" Merlin commented from amongst his tower of research, "-are making too much noise."
"Excuse me?" Arthur scoffed, then was met with a very hard glare from over the screen of a lap top.
"Arthur," Merlin reprimanded, "someone is systematically killing off the royal family, and I have no idea who. This needs looking into."
"Why?" Arthur was more confused than annoyed, and it was clear. Merlin had been about to turn back to his books, but the look he levelled over at Arthur instead told him that he should have already known Merlins reasoning. "I mean-" Arthur tried another attack, "you're not going to be able to do any better than the investigators already looking into it. And I assure you, people have noticed the connections already."
Merlin was unrepentant, "I'm don't want to stop them-"
"Merlin!" Arthur raised his voice, horrified.
"-but I need to know who it is. If you take the throne-"
"You plan to take the throne?" Lancelot asked, and great Arthur just needed that, a witness.
"I'm not taking the throne. Jesus, Merlin." And Arthur left the kitchen and his crazy almost boyfriend to investigate whatever the hell he wanted to, because he was not going to think about the sort of things that had to be going through the mans head.
He stopped in the lounge room, unsure, this was treading a dangerous line. A very dangerous line right through muddy waters, and dear gods but he shouldn't be around Merlin. He should not be anywhere near the sort of person who thought it'd be fine if the royal family was killed off, or that thought Arthur himself should be on the throne. But damnit, he liked Merlin.
He liked that Merlin, for all the irony of it, didn't treat him like anything special. He'd had that with friends before, but never a partner, they always seemed to treat him like something different, for whatever reason. After the initial mishaps (he still couldn't believe the shit had kicked him out of the house because of his name), he'd been waiting for the crazy man to start treating him differently. But despite his claims of destiny and reincarnation (had he ever used that word? Arthur wasn't sure now) he'd never treated Arthur like he was something out of the ordinary. Except, perhaps, for that resistance to a relationship Arthur was determined to chip away at.
There was no denying, either, that he liked the feeling of absolute devotion he felt from Merlin. He'd been worried when he realised why it was there, but there was something shockingly solid and trustworthy about his delusions. Logically Arthur knew he should run, far and fast, but until Merlin started waving swords at him (or actively plotting to kill the royal family) Arthur wasn't going anywhere.
No. He wasn't going anywhere.
It was insane, and crazy and it made Arthur feel a little bit more solid now that he knew he was thinking it. The mud was clearer, and although he was still walking that dangerous line he was committed to it. With that decided he moved over to Merlins lounge and changed the channel.
"I'm watching that!" Merlin shouted instantly.
Arthur scoffed, "No you're not." And found the Simpsons, which was honestly a much more acceptable thing to watch than the news.
"I was listening!" Merlin protested.
Arthur didn't want to watch the princesses tributes any more than he had to. It made his stomach twist into knots and threw his attention all left of right, and he didn't want to feel that right now. When he went home, and left Merlin to his devices, then he'd call up Morgana and they'd be sad together for a while longer. Or she'd snark at him a bit, and then they'd sit in silence and ignore the world beyond the calm of each others distant company.
Resolved with that course of action Arthur thumbed a text to Morgana to inform her that they were having a phone conversation that night then settled in to relax. She'd understand, they had their problems but she was always there for him.
Lancelot, apparently, wasn't needed in the kitchen either, so he sat on the other cushion. Arthur allowed his eyes to skim a glance at the man. He seemed okay, normal and sane. It was hardly his fault he had the stupidest name this side of 'Merlin'.
He itched to ask the man what he knew about Merlins 'destiny' and what he believed about it, but something in the honest way the man voiced his opinions told Arthur he wouldn't like it. It was, therefore, best to ignore it for now. Just like everything else. He was becoming very good at ignoring things, especially when they came to Merlin.
In the kitchen Merlin was muttering (probably insane things) and Arthur was happy to turn the TV up louder (just in case it was truly insane) when there was a loud ripping noise followed by a bang. Arthur jumped, about to spring out of his chair to check on Merlin when Lancelot caught his arm to stop him. Instinct nearly had Arthur counterattack, but instead he paused.
"He is merely summoning things again." Lancelot explained, as if… as if that made any sense. "He has been doing so all afternoon."
Arthur flicked a glance to the kitchen then to the man holding his arm. He tested his response to this declaration, wet his lips to try and give himself more time to assess it. Apparently Lancelot was in on this (come to think of it Leon had known about it as well, but he'd remained very tight lipped about the whole ordeal every time they'd met up since that revelation), and he was perfectly fine with it.
Great. Just great. Everyone was crazy.
"Right." Arthur decided to distract himself from that line of thought. "We're having a picnic tomorrow, I kid you not, you should come." And now he'd invited another lunatic into his life. It was quite possible he did belong right in their midst.
"A picnic?" Lancelot was reasonably incredulous and Arthur just grinned in reply.
"We'll the men are calling it a rugby day, but their families are calling it a picnic. We'll need more people to play a proper game. You should come." Because actually you got first pickings from the people you invited. That's how it always went, and Arthur never really had anyone to invite. His friends were his unit. His family… were not invited.
"I'm not coming." Merlin's muffled voice declared.
"You don't have a choice." Arthur refuted, and clicked the volume down on the TV. He heard the rustle of movement, and then Merlin was glaring at him from the kitchen doorway. Arthur loved that he had the mans absolute attention for the first time that night.
"I'm not invited?" There was a hint of uncertainty in Merlins tone.
"Oh no. You're coming, you don't have a choice." Arthur grinned.
"I'm busy." Merlin went to return to his work, but Arthur made a grab for the escaping man and yanked him down onto his lap. Merlin sputtered and tried to extract himself.
"Stay." Arthur ordered, and nearly got a fist in his face for the patronisation.
"I'm busy." Merlin tried to extract himself. It was possible Lancelot go a fist in his face in the process (he certainly got kicked once or twice), but Arthur didn't care one bit.
"Looking up dead royals." Arthur chastised, clinging around Merlins middle with tenacity.
"I'm looking into the anti-royalist factions, if you must know. I'd thought their extreme branch's were dormant, but maybe there's been a power change in their ranks."
Arthur forced breath out between his teeth. That was actually worse than he'd though it would be.
"Now you're watching the Simpsons with me and your brand new friend Lance." Arthur countered. Merlin struggled more, but Arthur was actually the stronger of the two, and without that burn that Merlin seemed quite able to produce there was no way Merlin was getting out of this hold. He contented himself with the knowledge that Merlin wasn't all that desperate to escape after all.
"You follow the anti-royalist movement, Merlin?" Lancelot seemed intrigued. Arthur could have punched him in the face.
"When Arthurs king they're going to be a problem-"
"Right." Arthur used his army voice, he was sick of this. "We're not talking about this. We're going to watch mindless television for an hour or two, and then you can do whatever the hell it is you're doing in there."
"I told you-" Merlin tried to wiggle free again. Arthur was having none of it.
"TV." Arthur ordered. "No talking unless it's about TV. Or pizza. Tonight those are the rules."
Arthur was glad when Merlin didn't struggle anymore and settled against him on the couch (Arthur was disappointed Merlin felt the couch cushion was a better place to sit than Arthurs own lap, but he sucked it up and didn't complain… much).