Gaius didn't look much better come morning.
Merlin had been up for a while. When he woke, his room was an absolute mess; he must have been sleep-walking because things he'd carefully put away - on the off chance that Arthur might want to come back to his again, were scattered everywhere and that damnable book of Old English spells lay open on top of his computer, taunting him.
Moving the volume, he opened up his laptop and tried to purge the pain, the desperation of last night's dreams. They'd been of blood, of screams and the glint of rain against stone, swords hacking into flesh and muscle and gut, and in the distance, weeping and the roar of a dragon.
When he was done, his hands hurt from typing but he felt better.
He didn't have time to clean his room again, just flung clothes onto the bed and headed downstairs to open the shop - on time for once, although without Gaius there. His uncle came down a good deal later, obviously still nursing a hangover. It wasn't until he drank one of those disgusting potions he liked to make up, that he could even say hello.
Trying not to laugh at Gaius's grimace of revulsion at the remedy, Merlin let him settle down into his favourite spot before going in the back and making tea for them both.
He didn't want to bring up what had been said last night. Uncertain of what Gaius remembered, not willing to add more grief to his uncle's already frail shoulders, instead Merlin just blathered on about who had come in and what they'd requested. It was typical stuff and an ordinary day.
One thing he certainly did not want to talk about was magic.
Surrounded by things that Gaius said had mysterious powers - crystals, certain herbs that were used to enhance control, antiques found at so-called ley line sites, Merlin listened and nodded and ignored the situation.
It was clear that Gaius believed it, wanted it to be real with everything in him. He hadn't understood before but now Merlin thought it might be because of the death of Gaius's wife and how his whole life had been turned around in a single moment. Sometimes people grasp for things to help change the past and Gaius's past was certainly painful enough to want that.
But to insist that Merlin had magic was just asking for arguments.
Luckily Gaius didn't say much, just smiled at the customers, sold a few things and, although watching Merlin thoughtfully, kept to himself the rest of the day.
In the meantime, Arthur had been sending Merlin increasingly filthy texts with suggestions of positions to try, asking about condom styles for enhanced pleasure and whether Merlin favoured chocolate or berry-flavoured lubes. But when Arthur started talking about macroeconomic policy and how sex was obviously value-added and inflation led to hot, steamy liquidity and there would be explosive growth cycles over and over and over again, Merlin couldn't stop snickering. Obviously, the man was bored out of his mind.
At some point Arthur must have been in a real meeting because the texting stopped but not before they'd argued a bit, flirted even more and decided on getting together later that evening for an examination of goods and services or rather a bit of mutual servicing with each other's goods.
That one had him anticipating just how much servicing he'd be doing and have done to him.
After closing the shop, he took a quick shower, then dressed in clothes easy to remove; he wasn't about to let zippers and tight jeans get in his way of all that gorgeous skin, not this time.
It was too good to last, though. Gaius was waiting for him by the door. Sober, this time.
"Sit down, Merlin. We have to talk." He gestured toward the living room but Merlin shook his head.
"Gaius, I know what you are going to say. I think you said it all last night." He was fidgeting with his jumper, looking at his uncle and then away, wanting to escape before Gaius started in on him again. "I know that you are worried but don't be. Arthur is a good man."
"I thought Uther was, too." Stepping closer, putting one hand on Merlin's arm, his eyes full of apprehension, he said, "You can't let him know about your magic. He'll never understand."
It was too much. He just couldn't deal with this any more. Uncle or not, Gaius had no right.
"Stop saying that!" Jerking out of his reach, taking a step backwards, his body tense with fury, Merlin snapped, "We both know that magic doesn't exist. Stop acting like a fool and accept it."
Gaius didn't even look upset at the anger on Merlin's face and the tone of his voice, only saddened. "I know you were hurt by what happened. I know you still are but your powers are growing and you have to start controlling them before they control you."
"I don't have magic!"
"Denying it won't change the fact," Gaius said, calmly.
Would the man never shut up about it? He knew it was Gaius's life now and kept food on the table but to believe magic was real as he did was just insane. And Merlin should know a few things about insanity; he'd had enough experience with it to last a lifetime.
Merlin also knew arguing with Gaius wasn't going to help. Trying to calm down and be the reasonable one in the room, he said, "Gaius, please stop… just stop. It was hard enough growing up believing in magic and being punished for it and I can't deal with this again."
"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me." His uncle looked guilty, as if he could have done something to change what had happened. But they both knew that he'd have been as powerless as Hunith had been.
"You have no idea of what I went through." Merlin was choking up, trying not to remember and yet somehow the feelings were all coming back.
"Hunith told me enough," Gaius said gently.
That just infuriated him. Arms waving as his anger rose, he said, "Did she tell you how everyone thought me insisting on being the wizard of old Camelot was adorable at first? A child's dream?"
He remembered the faces, laughing at him, patting him on the head and he couldn't have been more than five or so; then his mum told him to keep it quiet, that it would be dangerous for anyone to know and Merlin took it to heart, his dreams about Arthur and the knights of the Round Table and Albion a secret to all but her and… Will.
"And when I'd learned to shut up about it and hide what I thought was a curse or a gift or whatever the hell it was, I had one friend who believed me, one friend and I…." He wiped his hand across his eyes; he could feel the tears gathering there and he'd be damned if he was going to cry about it in front of Gaius. "And then when Will… died, it was my fault. Showing off. He'd been teasing me and I showed him what I believed I could do but I was delusional, it wasn't real and fuck it, he died because of me."
"Merlin…." Gaius stepped forward, one hand up, looking as if he wanted to comfort him. But Merlin wasn't about to accept anything.
"Have you dealt with psychiatrists? Have you?" In the back of his mind, Merlin thought that perhaps Gaius knew more about psychiatrists than he'd let on but he was too furious to care. "Always digging, digging and everything you say they twist into something else?"
"You were just a child." As if that made any difference.
"I was twelve. Old enough," Merlin snarled back. "At first, they thought I'd done it on purpose, that I made up that ridiculous excuse about magic to get out of it."
The police, the solicitor, the well-meaning bureaucrats, over and over, pushing at him, confusing him, fuck, just to remember it all again was making him sick.
"And when they realized that I wasn't lying, that I really believed… fuck." Head down, face wet, he stood there, his arms wrapped around his chest as if to keep himself from flying apart. He was flying apart. "The medicines made me feel like I wasn't alive, like I was wrapped up in plastic, unable to breathe. Drowning, empty. Relentless faces trying to suck out everything that made me real. And the more I objected, the worse it got, until I didn't know who I was any more."
Merlin took a deep shuddering breath, looked Gaius straight in the eye, trying to gain some kind of calm before there was nothing left of him. "But of course they were right. There is no magic. I know that now."
"Merlin…." Gaius was standing there, looking at him with dismay.
"No! I won't go through that again." Merlin reached for the door, opened it. "You can believe what you want but stop dragging me down with you."
Then before Gaius could say another word, he slammed the door behind him.
Gaius didn't try and go after him, for which Merlin was utterly grateful. He hated arguing with the old man but there were some things no one was going to make him do and believing in magic was one of them.
He waited by the shop gate, hoping Arthur would show up soon. But even texting him hadn't gotten results and after a while, he decided to walk to the nearest pub and maybe get pissed, rat arsed, shitfaced, tanked. Anything with alcohol attached.
By the time Arthur found him, he was mostly through his second bitter. The man had obviously just come from work, still dressed in a suit, scrumptious and sleek and every inch an advert model. Merlin just wanted to eat him alive or maybe let Arthur try one of those kinky condoms he'd been blathering on about.
As Arthur sat down next to him, he whispered into Merlin's ear, "Starting early, I see."
"Gaius and I had a fight." He shrugged, trying not to ruin what could be a brilliant night. Arthur wasn't to blame for it nor should he miss out on things they'd already arranged just because of a stupid argument.
He pulled back, looking concerned. "About me?"
"Not everything is about you, Arthur." Merlin shook his head, not wanting him to think it was his fault but not wanting to lie, either. "Partly. I'd rather not talk about it. So how was your day? I hear there are explosive cycles about to happen."
"Watch your mouth, Emrys." Arthur's eyes darkened as he sent Merlin a heated gaze. "Or I can watch it for you." When Merlin snorted at that, Arthur gave a chuckle and then turned serious. "So I assume we aren't going back to your flat?"
Merlin shook his head. "Not a good idea right now."
"We can go to mine, then." Leaning forward, hot breath against Merlin's skin, Arthur said slowly, distinctly, "I think you'll like the terrace. There's quite a view and while the railing is transparent glass, if you stand in just the right place…," Merlin's heart began to race, thinking of all the possibilities as Arthur gave him a wicked smile. "I could shag you senseless and no one else would see a thing. Could you keep quiet while I did that? Take you, stuff you so full that you'd see stars and not make a sound?"
Bloody hell, the man was brilliant at painting just the right picture to lighten Merlin's mood. He loved it. "Is that a dare?" When Arthur nodded, raising his eyebrows in challenge, Merlin said, "Only if I can return the favour."
"You're on."
Arthur's flat was amazing. Huge, reception room with enormous windows, a kitchen that any gourmet chef would give his right bollocks for and a bedroom that was sleek, modern and very Arthur in Pendracan red and white. The terrace he'd mentioned was off both the reception room and Arthur's bedroom and the views were indeed incredible.
In the time it had taken to get to Arthur's flat, Merlin's head cleared a bit. He certainly didn't want to forget a moment of this, whatever it was.
They hadn't said much in the taxi, just intertwined fingers and nudged legs and sent glances so hot that Merlin was surprised they hadn't both turned to ash. But once inside, he was a little worried. After all, it was very clear that Arthur was miles above him and he'd never be able to compete against his posh friends.
But Arthur didn't seem to mind, just grabbed his hand and led him out onto the terrace, sharing kisses along the way.
"You've been driving me crazy, you and that mouth of yours." Arthur brushed his thumb across Merlin's lips and then followed it with his tongue, lingering there for a moment before breathing out, "I'm sure I was pretty incoherent at my last meeting and even Leon was looking at me strangely, never mind my father's frowning disappointment but I couldn't stop picturing how you'd look."
Pushing Merlin up against the wall, trapping him with hands on either side of his head, Arthur's leg nudged Merlin's open, grinding into him as he did. Another kiss, hot and hungry as Arthur licked his way into Merlin's mouth and then pulled back a little, biting him and then soothing away the hurt.
Merlin was already hard, his heart pounding so fiercely that he thought they'd be able to hear it all the way back to Dalston. As Arthur dove in again, Merlin was groaning, pleasure slithering up his spine. He grabbed that perfect arse and pulled him closer, if that were possible.
Laughing, Arthur didn't seem to mind, circled his hips a bit, heating things up. "Hell, what you do to me."
"It's what I'm going to do," Merlin whispered into Arthur's mouth.
That earned Merlin another long, intense kiss. "I told you the terrace was perfect."
But Merlin wasn't looking at the terrace. He was looking into Arthur's blue eyes. "As long as it doesn't rain, I'm all yours."
With that, Merlin pulled off his jumper, threw it in the direction of the open door. Arthur wasn't making it easy to do, though, licking at his throat, scraping his teeth across Merlin's too-sensitive ear, muttering filthy suggestions that were frying Merlin's brain even as he tried to get his damn clothes off.
The t-shirt was lying draped over one of Arthur's potted plants when he felt the first cold drop and then another and another. Hell, it was going to rain after all, ruining that brilliant, indecent suggestion of doing it on the terrace.
Arthur muttered something about ignoring it, that it would just enhance the experience but Merlin wasn't too keen on the idea of shivering in the cold when he could shiver in delight instead. And then to add insult to injury, the shower turned into a downpour a few seconds later. So he slipped under Arthur's arm, tugging at him to follow inside. It didn't take much persuasion.
They did leave the door open in the bedroom, though, listening to the rain even as they fell, laughing onto the bed.
With kisses and hands and a great deal of rubbing, they managed to get naked pretty quickly. Merlin was right about how perfect Arthur was, a tight arse that fitted flawlessly into his hands, nipples so responsive to a drag of the tongue and teeth that it made Merlin moan just feeling them tighten under his mouth.
How Arthur could have the sense to find the lube and condoms while panting under Merlin's increasingly frantic fingers was beyond him but he was grateful that someone was paying attention. He was too busy feeling for all the places that had Arthur whimpering.
Apparently, keeping quiet was quite a challenge for Arthur, too, and that made Merlin giddy that he could pull such sounds from the man. No wonder he thought Merlin wouldn't be able to remain silent - and he wanted to do more, to hear Arthur shout and plead and beg for it.
He was beautiful there and Merlin was breathless with want from just looking at him. But he lowered his head again, taking Arthur's mouth, using his tongue to push him further into pleasure. Arthur began to groan more intensely, telling Merlin just how much he was enjoying it.
Feeling him swell, feeling him near orgasm, he pulled off a moment, then Merlin dove back in, kissing him, grinding himself against Arthur's thigh, but he didn't care.
More kisses, just more, he could feel his own hunger rising quickly, Arthur was already quieting, watching him with a heated gaze that said volumes about lust and need and bloody hell, to just get on with it.
And it was working between kisses and ecstasy, Arthur was getting louder, muttering incoherencies, his face twisted in that kind of pleasure/pain grimace that came with spiralling pleasure.
Faster and faster, trying to draw out the moment, reds and heat bleeding into white bliss as he pushed closer, and under him he could hear Arthur's sharp grunt and warmth spilling into Merlin's hand. It seemed to go on forever, listening to Arthur pour out his ecstasy, feeling him go languid as he started to come down from it. Gasps and sweat and the smell of sex tantalizing him.
That was enough to let go. A final thrust and Merlin was caught up, drowning in Arthur's body, breathlessly emptying himself. There were no words to describe the utter beauty of it, light and heat and the endless brilliance that was Arthur, Arthur, Arthur.
When he finally came down, not really caring that there was hot liquid coating both their stomachs, just trying to gather enough breath to think again, he found Arthur smiling at him, all smug satisfaction.
Half-draped over the man, he pushed himself off and to the side, thinking about what they'd just done, how soon it would be before they did it again, worrying about whether Arthur would want to - although the smile was a hint that maybe he would.
As Arthur reached over, gathered tissues to clean up the mess, Merlin tried to get up, thinking that perhaps distance might be in order but Arthur pulled him back down, nosing into his hair. "Stay."
Wanting to melt back into him, still he said, "Are you sure you don't want me to leave? Don't you have meetings in the morning?"
Arthur gave him a filthy look, then smiled slowly, nodding toward the side table. "We still have chocolate lube to try. And I bought a few of those kinky condoms, just in case."
Laughing, Merlin said, "You are the adventurous one. Good thing you never learned the whip properly or I could be in real trouble."
"Oh, Merlin, you are in real trouble." He edged closer, gave Merlin's throat a little nip. "You are very noisy in bed. And I believe the challenge was to be quiet."
Merlin smiled back. "I believe it was."
After finding out that they liked strawberry lube over chocolate and that the kinky condoms were more hilarious-looking than practical, they finally collapsed, falling asleep, blissful and sated. That he didn't dream while cradled in Arthur's arms was a welcome relief; he'd worried about that but it would seem that his concerns were groundless.
Arthur was all business in the morning, dressing in another suit, making toast and tea and then apologetically hurrying Merlin out the door.
He didn't mind. After all, they were still learning about each other and Arthur's flat was full of things that someone more unscrupulous might nick.
Since Arthur used the Tube to get into London, they rode together, quiet but exchanging heated glances that promised more. When Merlin got off at his stop, he gave Arthur one final smile and then headed back to his flat.
He knew that Gaius would still be upset with him. Hell, he was still upset with the old man and he knew they'd probably have another fight when he got home.
He'd turned off his mobile after Arthur found him at the pub last night and he figured there would be messages from Gaius that he should read, to see just how bad the damage was. But the only thing the old man sent was one voice-mail, asking him to come home, sounding almost contrite as he did.
Knowing that Gaius meant well didn't really help. But he couldn't hold a grudge, not when the old man had been so kind when his mum died and afterwards. He hadn't needed to take Merlin in but he had anyway. He owed Gaius a lot.
His uncle was inside the shop, wrapping up some kind of crystal chime thing, chatting away with the neighbour next door so he didn't interrupt, just went into the back and tidied a bit.
When Gaius came to talk with him later, he was ready to listen at least.
"Merlin, I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard. I know that it's difficult considering your history and I'll try and be more prudent in future."
Sending Gaius a tentative smile, Merlin said, "I know you can't understand what I've been through but I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have yelled at you."
"It would seem that we are both at fault. I was trying to do what I thought was right but… still, I could have gone about it better. I would ask one thing, though." When Merlin started frowning again, suspicious of what he might say, Gaius held up his hand. "No, not that you accept the reality of magic. It's obvious my arguing with you will do no good but be cautious of Arthur. He's a Pendracan and my experiences with them have not been good. Learn from my mistakes."
Much as he would love to defend Arthur, fiercely and without doubt, he knew that Gaius was right. If he'd had his life ruined by Uther's vengeance, then he'd have felt the need to be more cautious, too.
"Arthur is… I'm not sure if he's anything like his father but I don't want him knowing about my past anyway, at least not yet." He nodded, saying, "So yeah, I'll be careful."
Gaius smiled at that, the tension in his face gone. "Good. Now go clean up. I have some errands for you to run and customers to attend to."
And that, thankfully, was that.
Arthur texted him later, regrets and such, but he'd be working far into the evening and couldn't get away. But they made plans for the following night.
It was okay. He still needed to clean up his room; it looked like a windstorm had hit it. So even sore from the last night, a wonderful, can-still-feel-the-burn kind of sore, he dove in, putting things away as best he could. Oddly, again, there were several items that weren't his: crystals, a ratty red neckerchief that kept showing up no matter how many times he'd tossed it away, and of course, that bloody old book.
Gaius came by later to see what he was doing and he shoved the volume into his uncle's hands. "Is this yours? Because it isn't mine and I keep tripping over it."
"Ah, I've been looking for it. It's quite valuable, parchment and leather and the illustrations are done in gold and ancient inks. A magic book full of spells, quite powerful ones, too." Looking at Merlin with a gleam that didn't bode well, he said, "It was in your room?"
"I didn't take it on purpose, if that's what you are thinking. It just… shows up."
When Gaius's eyebrows began to rise, looking as if he was about to deliver another lecture about magic, Merlin said sharply, "Don't start."
"Of course." Letting out a long, put-upon sigh, Gaius nodded. "When you are ready, supper is on the table."
An unearthly shriek and as he pushed Arthur back, refusing to let his prince sacrifice himself, Merlin jumped up, ran towards the ghostly horror. The utter cold of the Dorocha as it merged with him and then out again, and he couldn't move, his lungs made of ice and he knew if he breathed, he'd shatter. In some distance place, he could hear Arthur calling out to him and he wanted to go to him, ached to find him again, protect him as he was always meant to do. But he was frozen, his face covered with ice, the destiny he believed in beyond his reach. It couldn't be the end, it couldn't and….
When Merlin woke up, he wanted to punch something. He hated being so haunted every night and it left him frustrated and feeling all too helpless. Around him, his room was a wreck - again. He didn't know why he bothered cleaning any more. It was the same every night.
And then ignoring the mess, the old book and the crystals and everything else, pulling out his computer, trying to drain away the darkness, he began to type.
Even Arthur noticed that he was looking tired. They'd been shagging for a week, not talking much about their other lives, concentrating on the here and now, on making each other pant and whine and bring ecstasy into Arthur's eyes.
The man had a giving nature, once he got past the prat attitude and sometimes unsympathetic ignorance about how the world really worked - a lot like the Arthur of his dreams.
Of course, he wanted to lie back, drift off but Arthur threw a flannel at him. It landed right over his face, and as he picked it up and began to wipe himself off, he could see Arthur grinning; cheeky bugger probably did it on purpose. But he didn't mind. He liked this playful side of his dare-he-say-it boyfriend.
It was comfortable and exciting and somehow right. He could see them together, more than just for shags, if he'd let it. But his past was worrying him; he wasn't sure how Arthur would take to having a nutter around and he knew that Uther would never allow it if he knew.
"Stop thinking so hard. It's making my head hurt just watching you." Arthur relaxed against him, nosing his ear, warm breath tantalizing him.
"And you never think at all, do you?"
"Ummm, sometimes I do." Arthur smiled at that, then sobered. "I read your short stories. I can see why Morgana wants books out of you." A brush of lips against Merlin's skin, hands playing with chest hair, the slow circle of a thumb across his already over-sensitive nipple, Arthur certainly knew how to tease. His voice lowered, going all husky as he said, "All that talk about manservants and coins and dying for each other. Makes me want a manservant of my own… in case my sword needs polishing."
That got a laugh. Sometimes Arthur was just ridiculous. "Worst pick-up line ever." Merlin let his grin turn filthy. "So you get off on servants polishing things?"
"Only if it's you." Pushing himself up on one elbow, looking as if he was trying to be serious and failing miserably, Arthur said, "I'm sure you'd be an excellent manservant. Seeing to my needs, obeying my every command, although I must admit that your cleaning skills leave much to be desired."
'Hey!" Merlin just rolled his eyes. "You're worse than Gaius. He's always on about my room."
"Well, sometimes my room ends up a disaster, too, when you are here. But I can forgive almost anything for that mouth of yours." His eyes flicked down to Merlin's groin and then back again. "I could have a livery made for you, a cape, a feathered hat. You'd look perfect in them."
"I'd look like an idiot."
"Same thing." Leaning forward, Arthur whispered into Merlin's ear, "Of course, I'd expect you to be naked underneath. So I could bend you over and have my wicked way with you."
"I don't think I need livery for that, do you?"
"Might be fun, watching the feathers bounce around as I fuck you senseless." Then still on his side, one hand cradling his head, the other splayed across Merlin's chest, he abandoned the game. "Seriously, though, the stories are very good. An interesting take on the Arthurian legend. Do you write them because of your name and the whole Merlin magic connection? Being the most powerful wizard of all time? Well except for Harry Potter, of course."
He didn't want Arthur to see how upset talking about magic was making him, even though with Arthur's hand over his heart, he must have felt it racing. Trying desperately to remain calm, he said, "No… I don't know. They just come to me."
Shaking Arthur off, Merlin sat up and began looking for his clothes. It was late and he'd have to catch the Tube back to Dalston before long. A good excuse for running away if ever there was one.
He spied one sock in the corner and reached for it, even as Arthur said, "Funny thing is that you write about magic and there are tons of things in Gaius's shop dealing with it. I would have thought you'd have learned magic tricks at least." His voice was teasing but there were questions behind it. "You know, to entertain me in between shags."
"Yeah, well…." Merlin shoved his briefs on and the sock he'd retrieved. The other one was nowhere in sight. Shirt missing too, but his jeans were draped over the chair.
"Admittedly, you are very entertaining all on your own." At this point, Arthur would normally have got the hint but he just kept blathering on.
"That's all that matters," Merlin said, more sharply than he would have liked.
"And now that I've used the M word, you are running away again." Arthur was sitting up, too, putting on a t-shirt and nothing else, but he didn't look ridiculous in it, just bloody gorgeous. "Why? Why do you tense up every time I mention magic? And don't tell me that you don't because I see it, the way your face twists and your body hunches up like that."
This was not a conversation he was going to have, not without a lot of alcohol. He found the other sock, shoved it on his foot and reached for his jeans. His mind racing as he tried to come up with some reasonable explanation, all he could think of was Arthur finding out about his time in the wards and the drugs and… he didn't want to have to think about it again.
"I got picked on a lot as a kid. So talking about magic doesn't have good memories for me." At least the half-truth was better than nothing at all.
Arthur seemed to accept that, reached out as Merlin tried to go past and pulled him back to sit on the bed. "Stop, Merlin, stop." One hand still gripping his arm, Arthur said, "Look, I know that sometimes being a kid is really hard. But you can talk to me about it, you know. I've had my own problems growing up."
Merlin let out a long, breath, trying to calm the fear that had set in. On one level, he understood what Arthur was saying but he'd been so confused over the years that his reaction was now completely uncontrolled, instinctual. He wanted their relationship to work and the magic was standing in the way and he didn't know how to break the barrier without destroying everything.
Arthur must have taken his silence for surrender. "It was hard for me, too. Not in the same way but with my mum gone, my father wasn't home most of the time and when he was… well, let's just say I was not noticed much. Or when I was, it was always disapproval. Nothing I did was ever right."
"I'm sorry." Merlin wasn't sure why but it seemed to placate Arthur.
"I'm not telling you this for sympathy but just so you know that you can trust me with whatever it is bothering you."
"Then can you trust me enough to let me tell you in my own time?"
Arthur looked disappointed but nodded, letting go of his arm. Merlin sent him a relieved smile, one meant to reassure and it seemed to work.
For a moment, neither of them said anything, just sat there on the bed side by side. Then, knowing that Arthur had shown him something of the loneliness of his childhood, Merlin wanted to give him something back, of comfort and caring, of at least talking about his mum. "It must have been hard growing up that way. Do you remember your mum at all?"
Arthur shook his head, looking out into the distance beyond the darkened window. "Not much. Just feelings, a hand ruffling my hair, perfume, soft words, love."
"My mum died when I was sixteen. It was very hard what with things. At least Gaius took me in. Otherwise, I don't know what I'd have done." He shrugged, pushing away the memories of that difficult time.
Nodding, Arthur seemed to understand that whatever Merlin wasn't telling him, it was not the right time to know. Instead, he said, "My father was on again about Gaius last night." He rubbed his eyes, shoulders slumping. "From what I've seen of him, I can't believe Gaius would do such a thing but now I don't know what to think."
At least he could tell Arthur the truth about his mother's death. "Gaius said it was an accident. He was driving them all home and a lorry driver hit the car. He tried to save your mum but it was already too late. Your father blamed Gaius anyway." Arthur sat there, frowning at him but he was at least still listening. "Your father ruined his career, drove him out of the country. Gaius's wife died in the same accident but it didn't seem to matter to Uther." He bowed his head, then turning to Arthur, said, "I'm sorry. I know he's your father but…."
Arthur shook his head. "I wouldn't put it past him. I love my father but once he gets an idea in his head, he can be pretty ruthless."
He wanted to soothe him somehow but nothing seemed appropriate. So instead he just sat there, his hand over Arthur's. "I am sorry."
"I'm sorry, too."