April 2011
"So how does that work then?" Mordred asked looking over Arthur's spreadsheets.
"You take out a mortgage to pay for the house, while you work on it. Those payments go in as part of your budget, and then you allocate the rest of the money to costs. That is a payment you can't leave out, I never do. If you default on the mortgage the house will be repossessed and you don't see any of your money again."
"Okay, so if I do that then what's the next thing that is important?"
"That will depend on your house, what you plan for it. Some of the bigger properties I split up and turned into apartments, those ones are rare, I wouldn't do one now. I still own two of them, and I get rent money."
"But don't you also pay a company to handle the rents."
"Yes, but that's not a problem because my father owns it, I can trust him. He invested in that, well… he rescued it from bankruptcy and made it work."
"And he's using that as an investment, but then it would be cheaper for a landlord to cut that person out?"
"Yes, but then it takes a level of protection away. A letting agent will check tenants out, make sure they get references and if there are any issues they deal with it and have legal backing. The contracts my father has in place are watertight, they protect the tenants as well, so they get repairs dealt with quickly and things like that."
"Gwaine?" Mordred said.
"Not just Gwaine," Arthur said. "I manage his company. Gwaine can build but the only thing he can manage is alcohol. He knows what he's doing when it comes to the practical work, and his building firm employs a dozen people, and he also contracts out when the job is bigger."
"He's a that rather than a this," Merlin said from where he was making stroganoff for heating up later on, and listening intently. Arthur looked up, giving Merlin a glittering flash of his eyes as he stared from under lowered brows.
"If you like," Arthur drawled. Mordred smiled to himself as he looked at a spreadsheet. The flirting never seemed to stop and he was quite aware of what it led to. There were always noises from the bedroom. They had got louder since his bedroom was now situated in the attic and both men thought that Mordred couldn't hear it, but Mordred didn't mind. His mother and her boyfriend could be just as loud, but it was far less tender.
"Anyway, back to the main budget, the fact is, this house is in a good area, developing up a little so when we pick the bathroom and kitchen fittings they need to be of a low-ish price but have to look good."
"The bathroom could be white, the fittings, you can't go wrong with that," Mordred said.
"I like our dark blue," Merlin said.
"Yes, but that's very strong, it will work if we find some tiles, white with a blue pattern but white is generally safer. Our bathroom is big enough to handle it as well. Kitchen?" Arthur asked Mordred, which caused the boy to pause. Arthur's phone rang.
"Hold your thought," Arthur said picking up his phone. "Arthur Pendragon. Hello, Mrs Bartle."
That put both Merlin and Mordred on alert.
"Right, okay. Well, we are both at home today, for the school holidays… we can come this afternoon." Arthur made shushing gestures to the pair of them, indicating at the same time that Mordred was not the subject of the conversation. That put them on further alert. There would be only one reason they were required beyond that, they needed to take someone else. They had done so for a young boy George, for two weeks, while his mother was in hospital. Despite the fact he had been upset about his mother he had seemed to enjoy himself. She had been surprised at the diligence of the two men, bringing her son to see her everyday, armed with flowers and fruit and presents and her son babbling in excitement about Winnie, the swimming pool at Uther's house and going to the fair.
Arthur had also decided that when Uther held the annual summer barbeque he was going to put George and his mother on the invite list.
"Right," Arthur said into the phone, trying to ignore Merlin and Mordred who were eyeing him with eager anticipation. He looked at his watch. "This afternoon?"
Merlin made impatient gestures at him. Arthur held up his hand to contain him, lacing his fingers though Merlin's to hold his hand.
"Two o'clock? Yes, we can be there, will it be immediate from then? Okay no, that's fine, we can make arrangements later. Right, we'll see you then. Thanks Mrs Bartle."
"Well?" Merlin demanded the moment he hung up.
At the same time Mrs Bartle sat back and glanced out of the window, looking at the little girl in question, Elena Godwyn. A poor little thing who had lost her parents a year ago, and probably didn't even understand what the trauma she was suffering really meant. Mrs Bartle had pushed for Arthur and Merlin to take her, seen as a last resort by her peers but she thought it might be a shrewd move. She wasn't quite sure how it would pan out, but an instinct stirred in her that perhaps it was the answer that they were looking for.
Arthur looked up at a very expectant Merlin. He glanced at Mordred who was staring at him with a similar level of interest.
"This sounds very long term, if they decide it's working out."
"How do you mean?" Merlin said, sitting down, perching in the end so as not to dislodge Winnie, sprawled out next to him. Merlin put his other hand into Winnie's fur.
"It's seems that Mrs Bartle fought our corner. And won."
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
August 2011
It had caused a bit of a stir, Arthur soon realised. A few people had looked almost shocked at the sight of him in his armour again, after the horrors of the party two years ago, when Cain had hurt Merlin – Arthur never gave his own injury much thought. Some people considered the revival of his costume a little tactless, but Arthur brushed that off. Such a thing only concerned himself and Merlin, and to a lesser extent Uther and Hunith.
"He does look good in it," Hunith eventually conceded as he watched Arthur cross the room, being polite to everyone he passed, but clearly making his way towards Merlin, whose current attention was on their five-year-old foster daughter Elena.
Elena was the reason he had resurrected his knight costume, since she was dressed as a princess. Arthur hadn't been able to persuade Merlin to don his old wizard outfit, and Arthur didn't push the issue. Both of them were far more interested in organising Elena's flowing blue dress, of course it had to be blue. They had carefully accessorized it with a sparkling silver tiara and the material glittered with sequins and gems.
In the end, since he couldn't be coaxed into a wimple either, Merlin had tried to stick with the medieval theme and gone as Robin Hood. A costume which was hugely flattering on Merlin, and driving Arthur mad.
"They've all made a good effort," Uther said.
"You never do," Hunith turned to him, looking him up and down. Uther shrugged.
"I'd feel silly, I told Igraine that years ago when we first did it."
"Was it her idea?" Hunith asked. Uther had started to get better at talking about his late wife.
"A joint idea, when we got engaged, it was near her birthday as well, and she made a comment about getting dressed up. The year she was pregnant with Arthur I said she should go as the Virgin Mary."
"What did she say to that?" Hunith asked.
"She threatened to smack me and if I wasn't careful she'd go as Lady Godiva. In the end she went as a party game."
"Excuse me?" Hunith spluttered as she took a sip of her drink.
"Pin The Name On The Bump," Uther said. "She left a tray of little blue and pink cards to one side with safety pins and if anyone thought of a name to suggest they could pin it on her dress around the bump. She looked like a Christmas tree by the end of the night. She thought it might help solve our name dilemma. We weren't very good at deciding between us."
"And someone suggested Arthur?"
"We decided it would be the first card we picked and that would be his name, or her name at the time. Thank God he wasn't a girl, he would have been called Clementine."
Hunith laughed. Uther smirked and then sobered a little.
"I didn't want the party the next year."
"But you started them again," Hunith said, and then she looked around the room. "Obviously."
"Morgana's father, Gorlois talked me into it, Arthur was almost five, and his wife Elaine was heavily pregnant."
"She played the same game."
"Yes, Arthur overheard the conversation, he listened to everything. He wanted to go as a dragon. I had the costume specially made, in green and red velvet."
"I bet he enjoyed that."
"Everyone loved him, he ran around growling at everybody, until he got too hot, and since all the important parts of his costume, the teeth, tail and claws were all attached to his top he took the trousers off and ran around in his underpants for the rest of the night. I have a photograph of him somewhere, asleep in one of the big armchairs in the drawing room."
"I doubt he would like that to get out, you should give it to Merlin, he can get his own back over the pictures Merlin drew when he was young. I have them framed and up on the wall."
Uther grinned. "Embarrassing your children is fun. I'll see if I can find it later."
Hunith grinned back and poured them both some more champagne.
"Hello," Arthur said, finally reaching Merlin. Elena beamed up at him and twirled around, wobbling as she did so, not being the most agile of children. As she looked up at him he noticed the trail of snot dripping out of her nose. Automatically Arthur's hand rummaged in his left gauntlet, pulling out a handkerchief he had stored there. Before he could wipe her nose Mordred wandered over, looking a little green around the gills.
"I feel sick."
"Who do you want, the snotty one or the sick one?" Arthur asked Merlin. Merlin plucked the handkerchief from his fingers.
"Snotty."
"Thanks," Arthur said. He took Mordred by the shoulders and carefully turned him. "Let's get you into a bathroom then. Why are you feeling sick? Have you drunk anything?"
"Just lemonade, I had a vol-au-vent eating competition with Gwaine."
Arthur rolled his eyes, pushing Mordred ahead of him.
"Walk slowly, and take deep breaths, what the devil did you do that for? I warned you about him."
"You said not to drink with him."
"And you'd think if I'd said that, you might be a little bit wary of getting involved in something like that," Arthur said, trying to sound admonishing as he spoke, but the grinning sort of ruined that. "Come on my little serf, let's get you sat down in a bathroom."
"I thought I was a knight's page," Mordred said.
"Fine, come on my little knight's page. Thanks Percy," Arthur said, taking an empty ice bucket, which Percival had pilfered from the bar, off the well-muscled man.
"Sorry, I couldn't stop him."
"He's thirteen, I don't think you can."
"Actually I meant Gwaine, who is of a similar mental age," Percival mused. Arthur sniggered again, getting Mordred clear of the crowds and up the stairs, moving towards the back of the house, thinking that one of the bathrooms there was liable to be quiet.
"Come on, we can sit in here for a while, and hope it goes away."
Mordred groaned but let Arthur sit him down on the floor, just by the toilet, to be on the safe side. The boy settled into a semi-comfortable position and Arthur removed his sword and shifted his chainmail about before he perched on the edge of the bath to wait it out.
"I'm never eating again," Mordred said. Arthur grinned.
"You'll get over it, just never ever be sick in the swimming pool."
"Ew," Mordred said.
"That takes a few shots of tequila though."
Mordred had propped his head against the cistern but he lifted it to stare at Arthur.
"You did that!"
"Actually, I made it to the bushes, four of my friends weren't so lucky. My father was not pleased. That's why we no longer use the pool for the party."
"I can imagine. How old were you?"
"Seventeen, not entirely old enough to know better."
Mordred giggled, before turning it into a groan and moving his head closer to the bowl. Arthur tried to look sympathetic, but it wasn't working very well. He laughed and Mordred rolled baleful looking eyes in his direction.
"You're evil."
"I'm not taking full responsibility for you being an idiot. If you're warned not to drink with someone, you should be aware an eating competition might have the same affect. Gwaine's innards are made of cast iron. He has never made for any sort of sensible combination."
Mordred giggled and then went pale, leaning towards the bowl, giving a little groan.
"Don't hold it back if you are going to be sick." Arthur advised.
"I'm okay," Mordred groaned. Arthur raised his eyebrows.
"We'll just wait and see."
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Half an hour later, Arthur deposited a slightly better feeling Mordred on a chair on the edge of the main room.
"As this is not a Roman orgy, don't eat anything else, and just drink water."
"Okay," Mordred said, in a tone that told Arthur to take his Cheshire cat grin and go away. Arthur obliged, scanning the room. Elena had slipped away from Merlin and was now with Uther, insisting that he and all his business associates, who had been gathered in a group, admire her blue dress. They were all politely obliging the little girl. She spun round, wobbling a little but Uther looked ready to catch her if she fell. Arthur carried on scanning, finally spotting Merlin leaning back against a wall with Gwaine talking animatedly in front of him. About two or so metres to the left stood Percival, arms folded watching the pair of them, taking up the 'minding Merlin while Gwaine flirted' duty. Arthur's eyes narrowed deciding that Gwaine's body language lingered on the verge of pushing it too far.
The next moment the music changed to a slower tune. Arthur swiftly stepped across the room as Gwaine took Merlin's hand to try and get him on the dance floor. More than likely, Gwaine meant absolutely no harm whatsoever, Merlin and Arthur were devoted to each other, and everyone knew it. But Gwaine couldn't help but flirt, and Arthur entirely understood the reason why Gwaine wanted to flirt with Merlin. The problem, in this case, was Arthur's.
He had never felt such insecurity before, and he had no need to feel it. Merlin loved him and had no intention of leaving him. But that didn't always seem to equate with what happened in Arthur's head. The mere idea that Merlin might find someone else more attractive could entirely cripple Arthur's sensibilities, which could reduce him to a raving idiot, who had shocked Merlin on more than one occasion. That had become the reason that people now kept an eye on Merlin, because Arthur would, occasionally and mortifyingly, overreact.
Seeing Arthur's approach Percival put out an arm and eased Gwaine away from Merlin. Gwaine frowned at his friend, who nodded in Arthur's direction. Merlin turned and smiled, a little tentatively, while Gwaine gave his usual amiable grin.
"Damn, foiled again," he announced. "I'm not dancing with you," he added to Percival, who continued to hold Gwaine back. Percival gave him a steady look. Gwaine shrugged and went off in search of someone else to dance with while Arthur pulled Merlin onto the dance floor, with Merlin hesitating a little.
"Come on, stop being silly."
"I'm rubbish at dancing."
"Not with me," Arthur said, pulling Merlin into his arms. Merlin settled an arm around Arthur's shoulders, and intertwined the fingers of his other hand with Arthur's. Pulling him closer Arthur brushed his cheek against Merlin's running a hand up and down his back to settle him and after a few moments Merlin relaxed against him, following the sway of Arthur's body.
"See," Arthur said.
"No need to be smug," Merlin informed him primly. "Is Mordred all right?"
"Yes, and Elena was entertaining my father's friends, they are both accounted for, so we have five minutes to ourselves."
Merlin pressed himself harder against Arthur, who tightened his grip, dying to let his hands roam, but he carefully restrained himself. Something which Merlin noticed.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing," Arthur said.
"My point exactly, normally you're a complete pervert."
"You love it."
"I do," Merlin conceded.
"However, as a knight there is a certain code of conduct."
"Is there?"
"Which I have just made up."
"I hope to God this does not involve you clambering up the side of your father's house."
"No, we're in the wrong room for that. But I do remember two years ago, I was on a promise. I still haven't got to it. I'm fairly certain that I was meant to creep into your room, rose between my teeth and give my damsel in distress a good ravishing."
Merlin laughed, and then looked serious. "There was more than a little distress that night."
Arthur shifted position so he could gently kiss Merlin on the lips. He held him close, his breath light against Merlin's cheek.
"Not tonight though."
"So you're intending to keep your promise?"
"Most definitely."
"I'd better find my wimple then."
"And wear nothing but that."
Merlin smiled. "Pervert."
Arthur grinned. "I really think it has something to do with all this metal."
Merlin nodded, a serious expression on his face, but his eyes were glittering.
"We'd better put that theory to the test."
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
April 2011
"Here you go, this is your room,." Merlin said, leading the little girl in by the hand. She looked around the room, releasing Merlin's hand and running over to the bed, transferring her grip to the duvet.
"It's blue!" she exclaimed in a piping voice.
"Yes, if you don't like it, we can change it to something else," Merlin said.
Elena determinedly clambered onto the bed, rucking up her yellow dress, plonking herself down on the bed, bouncing a little.
"I like blue, water's blue!"
Arthur raised his eyebrows. Mrs Bartle had done nothing to play down Elena's problems. In fact she had done the opposite, highlighting them. Despite the fact she had fought to get them an opportunity to take the little girl she seemed to think they would give up as the others had.
"Yes," Merlin said, sitting on the bed next to her. "You like water."
"Firemen have water," Elena informed him. "They should be called Watermen. That's better."
Arthur listened carefully, the back of his mind going over the conversation he and Merlin had been involved in earlier.
"Many of the other families and couples tried, you're the sixth foster family to take her. I think you may have the resources to be able to assist her."
Arthur assumed that was time and money. They were rich enough, and their schedules could be easily rearranged, Arthur's especially, to accommodate anything. Neither of them were tied down by particular nine to five jobs. Much of Merlin's coursework he did at home and Arthur could move his timetable to fit around Merlin's lectures.
"And of course, you have a small but quite close knit family, who understand some of the things Elena may be feeling."
Again, the social worker wasn't wrong. Arthur had lost his mother, although he could not honestly say he was traumatized by it, he had never known her. But seeing the way Merlin and Hunith were, Arthur realised he certainly had missed something along the way. On the flip side, Merlin had never known his father, but had met him and lost him before he had got the chance to get close. And Morgana could be even more understanding of Elena's problems.
Despite the hints Mrs Bartle had given them, that they would certainly not be judged for admitting defeat, Arthur knew one thing.
Neither he nor Merlin had an inclination to fall at the first, or indeed any, hurdle that was put in their way.