GENRE: Modern AU
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
SUMMARY: Merlin Emrys is dead. No really. He's just called the most powerful prisoner in jail a prat. A prat he just happens to be cellmates with. Cue fireworks.
NOTE: Embezzlement defination is needed this chapter - the misappropriation of funds that have been entrusted to one for care or management.
A/N Yes, I know, I am a horrible, horrible person for this massive wait between chapters. I'm sorry! I was quite ill for a while and I've just been focusing on getting back to work and sorting my life out. I hope people are still interested in the story :) I'll try to update ASAP!
Cellmate
Chapter 10 - The Unholy Alliance
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Lancelot asked the next morning, shooting Arthur a nervous glance.
The blond rolled his eyes, though despite his efforts to hide it, he too looked slightly anxious. "You're the one who wanted me to do it," he reminded them, unable to hold back a glare of resentment. His mood was so foul that it didn't seem to matter that it was Merlin and not Lancelot who had roped him into the whole thing, as he seemed quite happy to take his anger out on whoever was closest.
"I know." Lancelot nodded, rubbing his hands together, bubbling with nervous energy. "But if you can't handle it, the last thing we need is for it to dissolve into an argument." He gave the Arthur a pointed look, only for it to transform into a rather nasty glare when the blond stared determinedly in the opposite direction, deliberately avoiding his eyes. "Or worse, a fight."
"I'll behave myself, I promise," Arthur replied, although it probably didn't help that he sounded somewhat sarcastic.
"So," Merlin interrupted loudly, before Lancelot could retort, "you told him to meet us here? Is that a good idea?"
The were stood once again in the empty shower changing rooms, surrounded by crumbled white towels and a disconcertingly appropriate mystical steam. It was already giving Merlin the heebie-jeebies and nothing had happened yet.
Lancelot shrugged, giving the changing rooms a quick once over. "It's the only place without proper surveillance." He made a vague expression of distaste and shook his head, looking resigned.
"That's what I mean," Merlin replied dully. "I remember the last time someone had a confrontation with Mordred in here, Arthur ended up with concussion."
Arthur turned to glare at him. "Yeah, because your loony friend distracted me," the blond snapped, defensive, crossing his arms and pouting slightly. He was evidently remembering cornering Mordred in the showers a few weeks previously, when Will had barrelled in and surprised him, allowing the druid to catch him off guard and smack him against the wall.
Merlin sighed. "His name is Will." He paused, before adding belatedly, "and he's not a loon."
Arthur muttered under his breath, a word that sounded suspiciously like 'whatever', but said nothing more, frowning anxiously at the changing room door. He looked strangely nervous, completely rigid and on guard, a sight that sent Merlin's own survival instincts into overdrive.
Before anyone could say anything further, however, the changing rooms door opened with a soft creak, plunging the three of them into silence. They watched Mordred enter with wary eyes, flanked by two other druids who Merlin vaguely recognised from around the prison.
Mordred seemed to have recovered his composure from the day before, his face cool and impassive, though his shoulders were steeled and his back was ramrod straight. He approached Merlin, Arthur and Lancelot with deliberate slowness, as though expecting them to launch an unexpected attack and tackle him to the ground.
Although Arthur obviously appeared to be contemplating the idea, the three of them did nothing, waiting until the druids stopped in front of them, a good two feet away from Arthur's clenched fists. Mordred did not speak, merely gazing at the blond with an unreadable expression, waiting for him to talk.
Fortunately it was Lancelot who spoke in Arthur's place, putting his calmest and most diplomatic voice to good use. "We have something to tell you," he announced, faltering for only a moment when Mordred's all seeing gaze flickered towards him. "We don't want any trouble. In fact, what we want is your help."
Even the usually indifferent Mordred was unable to stop his eyebrows shooting up his forehead, evidently thrown by Lancelot's words. "My help?" he echoed, before he managed to recover his composure. "Why would I help you?"
"Because in this instance, we're on the same side," Lancelot replied.
Mordred laughed, a cold twinkling sound that sent shivers down Merlin's spine. "I find that hard to believe."
"It's true," Arthur chimed, speaking up for the first time since the druids arrival, meeting Mordred's chilling gaze. They seemed to be squaring each other up, eyes rarely straying from each others faces, the connection dark and intense.
"What do you mean?" Mordred asked slowly, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. It was strange the effect the expression had on the druid's face; for the first time, he almost looked human. And young. Very young.
"Someone is plotting against us," Lancelot said, looking from Merlin and Arthur grouped together, to three druids stood opposite them. "All of us."
"Tristan," Merlin supplied, feeling as though he should be the one to explain the details. It was him after all, who had discovered the plot in the first place. "He's working for someone on the outside. Someone who attacked Lancelot, got Morgana fired and is playing you and Arthur against each other."
Mordred eyes were narrowed and his lips pursed, face taking on the same strained expression Arthur used when he was trying to control himself. "How do you know this?" he snipped, looking Merlin up and down with an expression of cool distain.
"I overheard it on the phone."
"And you expect me to take your word for it?" Mordred laughed incredulously, and his eyes gleamed in a rather disconcerting way. "Do you think me a fool?"
"No, we don't expect you to take our word for it," Arthur said, in a rather stony voice, deliberately ignoring the latter question. "We expect you to confirm it for yourself."
"By using your outside contacts," Lancelot continued. "Get someone to find out what's going on. Guaranteed we're not wrong."
Mordred turned his stare to each of them individually, assessing them with narrowed eyes, suspicious but slightly unsure. It was a minute or two before he spoke again, and although he was calm, his voice held a very dangerous edge, dripping with warning. "If you're lying…" he muttered, letting the sentence hang suggestively.
"You'll what?" Arthur snipped sarcastically, apparently unable to stop himself. Merlin was hardly surprised; it actually amazed him that Arthur's self-control had held out for as long as it did.
But Lancelot was less than impressed. He elbowed the blond pointedly in the ribs before turning back to Mordred, eyes wide and earnest. "We're not," he claimed.
"So, what do you think Mordred will do when the whole Tristan thing is confirmed?" Merlin asked as he, Lancelot and Arthur walked into the communal area later that day.
"No idea," Lancelot replied, giving his shoulders a shrug. "He might want to try and handle it himself."
"If only," Arthur muttered, waving two prisoners out of their seats. They gave him a frightened glance and scuttled away, allowing him to collapse across the two-seater with a sigh, head tilted back. "It would solve all our problems. They could destroy each other for us."
Merlin glared, feeling affronted on behalf of the people thrown out of their places. "That was rude," he commented, meeting Arthur's eyes. A small part of him couldn't help but want to pick fights with Arthur for no real reason since the whole Owain ordeal, needing a way to vent his anger and frustration, but the blond was usually too clever to rise to the bait. And it appeared this time was no exception.
The blond merely blinked confusedly for a moment, before shuffling over and leaving Merlin a space. "Oh, sorry," he said carelessly, giving the new place a pointed wave. "There you go."
Merlin rolled his eyes, but sat down anyway, both pleased and indignant that Arthur had made room for him. "Not what I meant," he pointed out, although he feared the smile spreading across his face ruined the effect of his waspish words.
Arthur shrugged and looked up at Lancelot, who was watching them with raised eyebrows. "What?" he snapped, sounding rather defensive.
Lancelot held up his hands in surrender, but his lips curved into a smile. "Nothing," he said innocently, eyes twinkling in an annoyingly good-looking way. He really was disgustingly perfect.
Arthur was about to reply, no doubt in a rude and offensive manner, when a cry of "Merlin!" interrupted his words.
Merlin looked up and saw Will moving towards him, looking nothing short of gob-smacked to see him. "Will," he greeted, smiling at the sight of his friend, pretending that hanging out with Arthur and Lancelot was nothing out of the ordinary.
Will stopped in front of the three of them, his eyes flittering across a still-grinning Lancelot and Merlin and Arthur slouched next to each other across the seats. "What are you doing here?" he asked, giving his head a small shake.
Merlin frowned. "What d'you mean?"
"You don't like the communal area," Will pointed out. "You said it was full of crazy criminals." His gaze slid over to Arthur, who was watching him with raised eyebrows, looking affronted.
"Oh," Merlin replied, wanting to say something before Arthur snapped in offence. He really didn't want it to dissolve into an argument. Or worse, a fight. "We were just talking." He waved his hands at the scowling blond and a smiling Lancelot, attempting to look casual. "Will, you know Arthur and Lancelot?"
The three of them nodded at each other, both Will and the blond looking distinctly uncomfortable. It reminded Merlin that it was not the first time the two of them had met, and the now familiar spurt of anger he now recognised as jealously wrenched at his gut.
"Lancelot's been helping with the whole Mordred thing," he explained, impressed that he sounded almost blasé. "And I suppose you already know Arthur? I might of mentioned him." Will smiled at that, looking longsuffering, but Merlin wasn't done. He saw the opportunity, and with a burst of anger at the thought of Owain, said pleasantly, "But of course, you know him more intimately than that. Mostly because Arthur's a bit of a slut, who just can't keep it in his pants."
Lancelot burst out laughing, making no attempt to muffle his cries, head thrown back and shoulders shaking. Will and Arthur however, both blinked at Merlin in amazement, mouths open wide.
"Merlin!" Arthur cried incredulously, unable to say anything more, looking both shocked and rather insulted.
"Oh, like you didn't have it coming," Merlin replied, shrugging his shoulders.
"Come on," Lancelot laughed, as Arthur glared. "You deserved that at least."
"Hey!" the blond snapped, swivelling towards his friend. "Who's side are you on?"
Lancelot blinked innocently, and gave Arthur a cheeky smile. "Merlin's."
Merlin was unable to contain a laugh and gave the disgruntled blond a smirking smile. Even Will looked pleasantly surprised, giving Lancelot an appraising glance and attempting to stifle a grin.
"Now I know why we don't hang out more often," Arthur snipped at Merlin, folding his arms and pouting in a rather attractive manner. He looked at his cellmate through the corner of his eye and hesitated for a moment, a frown curving at his lips. "So, after you've insulted me, are we even now?"
Merlin raised his eyebrows, smiling slightly. "After what you did to me, no way."
The blond grumbled under his breath, looking even more put out. "This has been such a crap day," he moaned, sighing in an overly dramatic manner. He slumped backwards and looked so sombre, that for one very brief moment, Merlin felt almost guilty.
"Really? I think you handled the whole Mordred thing well," he was forced to admit, giving credit where credit was due. He knew how hard it had been for Arthur to face the druids who supposedly murdered his mother, and was thankful that he'd actually made the effort. "Didn't try to kill him or anything. You hid your emotions well."
Arthur let out a strained laughed and looked away. "Yeah, I'm good at that," he said.
The next morning Arthur and Merlin walked down to breakfast together, both silent. The atmosphere in the cell the previous day had been comfortable, but not at all intimate. They spoke to each other when necessary, both calm and polite, although it was mostly speculation concerning Mordred and whether he would help them. They seemed to have reached a silent understanding in which neither would mention the Owain situation again, disliking the strain it put on their almost friendly alliance.
But Merlin had not forgotten what happened (mostly thanks to Will's constant reminders) and although he enjoyed Arthur's company, he was unwilling to allow the 'relationship' to go further again. No matter how much his hands itched to touch the blond and how much his heart spluttered uncontrollably in his presence. He would just have to stay strong. Even when Arthur was walking all warm and familiar at his side.
The two of them entered the cafeteria together for the first time since Merlin's arrival that morning, drawing a few bemused stares. But they had barely moved two feet before Mordred was stood in front of them, as though summoned from thin air.
Merlin jumped and squawked in surprise, knowing that the druid's dramatic entrance would haunt his nightmares for weeks to come, his heart spluttering in fright. But Mordred only had eyes for Arthur, his jaw set and expression earnest.
"We were right, yes?" the blond guessed, just as Lancelot appeared at his side, evidently having noticed the encounter.
"Yes," Mordred said shortly, his voice barely containing his suppressed rage. "Showers, now." He then turned on a heel and headed towards the exit, leaving Merlin blinking bemusedly at his abrupt disappearance.
Arthur on the other hand, was glaring at the back of the druid's head, unimpressed with the order. But he followed nevertheless, exchanging an unreadable glance with Lancelot as they walked, clenching his fists and grinding his teeth in thinly concealed rage.
They marched towards the changing rooms in sync, all three of them anxious, but all unwilling to voice their uncertainties aloud. Even Lancelot had no words of encouragement and looked rather sickly, his usually bronzed skin pale and drawn.
When they arrived the druid was stood alone, waiting for them in the middle of the room. His arms hung limply at his sides and his face was shadowed, concealing his expression from their view; he looked as eerie as ever.
"So, what did you find out?" Arthur asked immediately, evidently the only person on the planet completely immune to Mordred's creepiness.
"I found out nothing," Mordred stated calmly, tilting his head. "It was Morgana who discovered the truth."
"Which is?" Lancelot questioned, looking eager now.
"You were right about Tristan." Mordred gave Merlin a swift nod, although his eyes did not leave Arthur. "He's working for a person on the outside. And there are…rumours, that the person is Nimueh."
Both Arthur and Lancelot balked, but nowhere near as much as Merlin, whose jaw had hit the floor, his heart missing several beats.
"Nimueh?" Arthur cried, fisting his hands into his hair and pulling desperately. He mouthed wordlessly for several moments, pacing backwards and forwards. "Of course, Nimueh. Of course!"
Nobody appeared to notice Merlin's own surprise until he spoke, voice faint and hands shaking. His heart was lodged somewhere in in his throat, and he was fairly sure his stomach had just dropped through the floor. "Who's Nimueh?" he asked, unsure he even wanted to know.
"Another gang leader," Lancelot replied, sounding tired. "She and Uther are old enemies. Makes sense that she'd want to destroy Arthur. Why she'd want to include Mordred though, I have no idea."
"It can't be," Merlin said disbelievingly, more to himself than the room at large, shaking his head. Mordred turned to look at him, the only one seemingly noting his distress. His eyes saw everything.
"Can't be what?" he asked.
"I know the name Nimueh," Merlin admitted, causing everyone in the room to swivel towards him. Even Arthur seemed to have forgotten his own shock at he turned to regard him, looking bewildered. Merlin laughed shakily and raised a hand to his face, attempting to pull himself together. "I should do. It's the reason I'm in here."
Arthur's mouth opened, forehead creasing. "What do you mean?"
"I'm in prison because I was convicted of fraud," he explained, the words strange on his tongue, his brain functioning on autopilot. It felt as though he was disconnected from his body, totally out of his control. "Embezzlement, identity theft…the whole shebang."
They all blinked back at him, looking even more confused than they had moments before.
"Really? I didn't know you had it in you," Arthur commented, in a pleasantly surprised tone.
"I don't," Merlin replied sharply. "I was set up. Guess who by?"
Lancelot appeared to be the only one who understood where his explanation was going, comprehension slowly dawning on his features. "Nimueh…?" he breathed, mouth opening into a wide 'oh'.
"Yes," Merlin smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "I was an assistant for a financial advisor before I came here. Handled big sums of money. Until one day I noticed one somebody taking money from accounts they weren't supposed to and moving them into their own. Into accounts under the same two names. Nimueh and Afanc."
"Afanc?" Lancelot questioned.
"Nimueh's second in command," Mordred supplied, the only one not to look completely surprised, as though things like this were part of his everyday conversations. He was watching the proceedings with a blank expression, although he appeared to be listening closely to every word Merlin spoke, mentally filing it away.
"What happened?" Arthur asked, watching Merlin curiously.
"I confronted them about it. Or I got a meeting with Afanc anyway. I was obviously not worthy enough to meet Nimueh. That's why I didn't recognise her."
"Oh, Merlin," the blond sighed exasperatedly, shaking his head. "You confronted him?"
Merlin gave out a rather choked laugh. "Yes, it was stupid, I know. I guess I thought there had been a mistake or something," he admitted, almost cringing at his own blinding naivety; it was a character trait he was really going to have to work on. "But next thing I know, I'm getting arrested for the embezzlement, as well as identify theft and forgery."
"They set you up," Arthur summarised, stating a fact rather than asking a question. "Said it was you who did it."
Merlin nodded.
"Could you not prove it was them?" Lancelot asked, touching his chin. He was regarding Merlin was poorly disguised sympathy, as though he was a kicked puppy, left out in the street.
"If I could prove it was them, I wouldn't be in here, would I?" It came out far harsher than he intended, so Merlin tried to smile apologetically, but he was afraid it came out as more of a grimace.
"No, I guess not." Lancelot sighed.
"Do you know what they were embezzling the money for?" Arthur asked, leaning forwards.
Merlin shrugged helplessly, and said, "No."
The three of them then stood in silence, all looking away from each other, each thinking everything over. The quiet was strained and heavy, casting an even darker atmosphere on the room, not helped by the dirty looks Arthur and Mordred kept shooting each other when nobody else was looking.
Unable to take the tension, Merlin spoke again, taking in a long deep breath. "I never knew how they managed it," he mused. "But I guess now I do." He paused, looking round at the room, unable to miss the irony. "They're gang members."
"Nimueh is a leader," Mordred corrected, before looking pointedly at Arthur. "Gang leaders often set people up for things they didn't do."
Arthur's head snapped up and he scowled, immediately recognising the jibe. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice carrying a dangerous undercurrent.
"You know what it means." Mordred raised his chin, unwilling to back down from the challenge.
Lancelot sighed. "Please don't start, guys!" he cried, only to be ignored.
"Uther didn't set you up," the blond snapped, despite Lancelot's placating hand on his arm, apparently unable to let the words go. Even the distraction of Merlin's arrest appeared not to be enough to keep his anger at Mordred at bay for long. "He got you arrested for crimes you did commit."
Mordred drew himself up to his full height, which wasn't actually that tall, before looking Arthur directly in the eye. "But only because he thought I did something I didn't. I wasn't responsible for what happened to your mother."
"You really expect me to believe that?" Arthur hissed. "If it wasn't you, then who was it?"
"Oh, I'll take three guesses," Merlin said loudly, before Mordred had a chance to reply. He was fairly sure it had been intended as a rhetorical question, but as soon as Arthur had voiced it, everything seemed to slot together in Merlin's mind. It was so obvious; why hadn't it occurred to anyone before?
They all turned to stare at him, looking completely flabbergasted that he'd interrupted their argument.
"What?" Arthur asked, thrown.
"I wonder who it could be…" Merlin said sarcastically, unable to believe that it hadn't occurred to anyone before now. "Obviously someone who wanted to set Mordred up and destroy Arthur at the same time. Who could that be? Hmm, I don't know…maybe, Nimueh!….My god. You call yourselves criminals."
The room descended into silence as everyone stared at each other, contemplating Merlin's words.
Finally, Lancelot spoke, sounding bemused. "Oh, yeah…"
But Arthur scoffed, looking disbelieving. "Oh, you don't believe that, do you?" he snapped, talking to the room at large. "Of course Mordred is going to deny it." He waved a hand in the druid's direction, ignoring the glares sent his way. "And even if he is telling the truth and the druids weren't behind my mother's death, we can't just assume that it was Nimueh."
"Why not?" Mordred hissed, eyes narrowing. "You just assumed it was me. With no proof!"
Arthur turned his head to stare at the druid, immediately rounding on him. "I had nothing to do with your imprisonment! My father was the one who claimed you were behind my mother's death. And for once, he was probably right," he snapped, lurching forwards, as though he physically couldn't stop himself.
Mordred met Arthur half way, meeting his eyes with a steely gaze. "Why do think they never had any evidence to link me to Igraine's death, Pendragon?" He paused for dramatic effect, leaving Arthur breathing loudly across his face, the sound loud and unnerving in the quiet of the room. "Because there wasn't any! I'm only in prison because Uther got me charged for different crimes!"
Merlin sighed. They really were just going round in circles.
"Yeah, and the reason my father got you sent down was because he believed you were responsible!"
"But he was wrong!" Mordred's voice had reached whole new decibels, causing Merlin and Lancelot to leap back slightly in surprise.
But before Arthur could reply, Merlin interrupted, his frustration finally getting the better of him. This was getting them nowhere. "God, no wonder Nimueh succeeded!" he yelped, unable to stop himself. He shook his head and looked between them, throwing up his arms in disbelief. "You're both too busy hating on each other, it never even occurred to either of you that the other one might be innocent!"
The room descended into silence once more, with both Mordred and Arthur staring at Merlin in stunned disbelief. The thought evidently hadn't occurred to either of them….At all.
"Look, all of this is irrelevant anyway," Lancelot said after a minute, always the voice of reason. "We need to focus on stopping Tristan and Nimueh. We need a plan."
Arthur and Mordred looked away from each other, neither saying anything. But Merlin took in a deep breath, looking around at them all. He took a moment to steel himself before saying, "Well, luckily, I think I might just have one."
"You can't do this, Merlin," Arthur snapped half an hour later, slamming the cell door shut after they'd entered. His cheeks were flushed and his jaw was set, meaning he was angry, upset and determined, an incredibly dangerous combination. Merlin knew the signs now.
"Why not?" Merlin replied, with far more casualness than he actually felt.
"Why?" Arthur laughed, but it was high, short and clipped. "Because it's dangerous. I can't believe you just volunteered for that!"
Merlin whirled to face him, throwing his arms up in frustration. "This whole thing is dangerous! There's no changing that!"
But Arthur ignored him, crossing his arms and glowering at him. "You should stay out of it." He sounded cold and calm, but he appeared to be working hard to keep it that way. His brow with shining with sweat and a muscle was jumping in his jaw, revealing he was not quite as indifferent as he suddenly seemed.
Merlin shook his head slowly and ran a nervous hand through his hair. He wasn't sure what to think about anything anymore, and the day's events had only confused him further. "It's too late to stay out of it, Arthur," he snipped, unable to contain his aggravation. "I became a part of this as soon as I got involved with you."
The blond paused, and his eyes skittered away. His anger seemed to deflate. "I know," he said lowly, screwing his face up in distaste. "Exactly. You think I want to be responsible if something happens to you?"
The change in Arthur's demeanour caused Merlin to double-take, but he gathered himself quickly, attempting to keep his own uncertainties out of his voice. "Nothing's going to happen to me. The plan will work."
Arthur groaned, running his hands down his face. "You don't know that!" he snapped, his own feelings evidently getting the better of him. "Stop being so naive!"
Merlin straightened defensively, anger coiling in his stomach. "Naïve?" he repeated, surprised by how hollow and cold his voice sounded. It wasn't long before it cracked, however, overcome with emotion. "Stop telling me what to do! You have no right! I can do what I want!"
"And you'll get yourself killed!" Arthur cried, looking completely exasperated, as though Merlin was a small child he was babysitting, incapable of looking after himself.
"And you care?" Merlin snapped, although it was a rhetorical question. He spoke again before the blond could reply, unable to stop himself bringing up their old argument. "As you so kindly pointed out, I am not your boyfriend! You fucked up any say you had in my life when you fucked Owain!"
Arthur rolled his eyes and let out a cry of frustration, looking towards the heavens. "Oh, please don't turn this into a domestic, Emrys," he said. "I'm just trying to stop you from making a stupid mistake!"
"It's not a mistake!" Merlin bawled his fists and narrowed his eyes, almost shaking with suppressed anger. Arthur had absolutely no right to tell him what to do. "It's the only plan we have! It has to work!"
"This isn't a mafia movie! Just because you're all good and noble doesn't mean the plan will work. This is real life and it's doubtful that any of us will get a happy-ending!"
"You think I don't know that?" Merlin cried, barely aware that his voice was growing gradually louder. "If there was such things as happy endings, I wouldn't be stuck in this HELL-HOLE WITH YOU!"
Arthur said nothing, watching his cellmate with the maddeningly empty expression he used when trying to hide something. He stared at Merlin breathing raggedly with blank eyes, lip curling and shoulders steeled. "Fine," he muttered at last, turning towards his bed. "If you want to go ahead with the plan, I can't stop you."
"No, you can't," Merlin said unnecessarily, calming down somewhat, now the festering frustration was out of his system.
"I guess I have no right to be concerned," Arthur sighed, shaking his head.
"No, you d-don't," Merlin replied automatically, although his voice stuttered slightly at the end. Was Arthur actually admitting he was concerned? Or was the ringing in his ears making him hear things?
"I was just…." Arthur broke off and looked away, laughing in a disturbingly dark way. "You know what, never mind." He climbed onto his bed and led back, turning to face the wall, evidently trying to dismiss his cellmate.
But Merlin was anything if not persistent. "You were just…what?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He was still angry, but couldn't help but want to know what Arthur was going to say; he was annoyed by his own weakness.
"Nothing," the blond muttered, so quietly Merlin could barely here it. "You better go to bed, Emrys. You've made yourself a vital part of the plan; you need your beauty sleep."
"Don't tell me what to do," Merlin said automatically, although his voice lacked its previous bite. He fell silent for a moment and turned Arthur's words over in his mind, trying to piece together what the blond appeared unwilling to say. Finally, he came to the only conclusion he could, heart pounding excitedly in his chest. "You're worried…about me…."
"I'm not worried about you," the blond snapped instinctively, but there was an undercurrent to his voice that had Merlin twitching happily. Despite what the Arthur had done to him, he just couldn't help the hope bubbling in his chest; his traitorous heart appeared to have a mind of its own.
"Yes, you are," he said, certain now, unable to stop himself smiling in glee. "You're worried about me." He repeated the words and drew them out, pleased with how they sounded on his tongue, knowing his voice sounded supremely smug but completely incapable of stopping himself.
"No, I'm not." The denial was weaker now, more tired.
Merlin grinned, feeling victorious. "Yes, you are."
Arthur said nothing for a long moment, until finally, "Well, maybe a little," he admitted reluctantly, still facing the wall. "You just better hope the plan works."
TBC...
A/N Very plotty chapter, sorry about that! When I originally wrote this chapter I really struggled with it, which I could really tell when I reread and tried to edit it. I tried my best with editing it, but I'm still not happy :/
I just want to say thanks to the people who are sticking with this story, I know my absence must have been annoying! I'm going to try and get all the chapters of this fic uploaded ASAP, as well as uploading the rest of my Merlin stories to this account.
Please R&R!