A/N: Thank you for the reviews! And the favorites/follows. Mentioned on a previous chapter I intended on updates every 3-4 days, whenever I actually get a new chapter written – typed – though I think it's been more of an every-other-day thing so far... I just want to say, this is the MOST I've ever written in the SHORTEST period of time… credit Merlin for the inspiration. Hopefully won't burn out too soon at this pace, and the story continues to please… ~,~
Chapter 7: An Intruder in the Citadel
For Arthur's second week in Camelot, he was assigned to the second-floor departments, which was how he found himself seated at a spare console in the Marketing department on a Wednesday morning, tasked with familiarizing himself with the company's website and threatened with a test on it after lunch. He clicked aimlessly through the available menus, his thoughts far from Camelot Technologies.
He didn't remember driving home, Saturday morning. Beside him on the passenger seat of the Mustang, his phone trilled an incoming-message alert. Arthur had taken his hands from the steering wheel, glanced blankly around the inside of his father's garage, then picked up the phone.
Hows Merlin this a.m.? Leon texted.
Arthur hit reply-all, so the other knights and Gwen would also receive the answer. Woke up tired but fine, didnt rmember car accdent. Needs some space. Gaius will keep us pstd.
NEthing we can do? Came the response from Gwaine.
Not today. Arthur stared at the phone for a moment, then selected Gwen's speed-dial setting.
"Arthur?"
He loved that woman's voice. "Can I see you this afternoon?" he said, his voice gruff from pushing past the lump in his throat.
"Of course. Why don't you meet me at Green Spring Gardens Park at two?"
Arthur had dragged himself inside the house to shower and change and consume a single-serving microwave meal. His father walked in as he was putting the cardboard container in the trash.
"You didn't come home last night, Arthur," Thomas Drake said with heavy disapproval. "Were you with a girl?" Arthur laughed out loud, which only served to irritate his father even more. "Is it that new receptionist? I've been told that you eat lunch with her – you know the policy about interoffice dating."
"Father," Arthur said, "I did not spend the night with a girl."
The older man eyed his son with suspicion. "I hope you're not making new friendships that will prove detrimental to your position in the company."
Arthur rinsed his fork in the sink, wondering if he should tell his father that he nearly died in a car accident, and that he'd spent the night making sure the friend who had saved his life was himself going to be all right. "Of course not," he said, choosing the path of least resistance.
"I trust it will not happen again." Thomas Drake waited in vain for a verbal confirmation, nodded to himself that his wishes had been made clear, then left the room.
That what won't happen again, Arthur thought – that I won't go drinking with Gwaine, that Merlin won't save my life with magic, that I won't use the night hours as well as the daytime to make sure a friend is taken care of? No, he could pretty much guarantee that each of those things would happen again.
He'd said nothing to Gwen of that morning's confrontation. They'd ambled hand in hand, enjoying the warm sunshine and the breeze and the smell of blooming flowers. He soaked in the precious feeling of her arms tight around his ribs, her head resting on his shoulder, her breath against his neck.
Just… just hold me.
He remembered the love that Merlin had cherished, and lost. Destiny was indeed cruel.
They'd lounged on the grass, his head pillowed on her lap. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she said, finally.
"Merlin."
"Did you and Gaius make any progress with him?"
He snorted against the fabric of her white cargo shorts. "Quite the opposite, actually."
Her hand moved against his shoulder, rubbing comfort right through his skin and into his soul. "I'm sorry, Arthur," she said. "I know this is hardest on you –"
"No, Guinevere," he contradicted firmly. "This is hardest on Merlin… and then maybe Gaius."
"Give him time," Gwen said, with quiet confidence. "He has a lot to work through."
More than she knew. And in a clumsy but well-meant attempt to share Merlin's burden, Arthur only succeeded in adding to it. Gaius' words haunted him, Sire – I hate to say this, but… you may not have much time…
His phone had remained frighteningly silent through the afternoon, through the evening. At 11:30, when he'd nodded off fully clothed atop his bedspread, the cell phone on the nightstand beside him alerted him to a new message.
From Gaius. Merlin home. Tired, hungry, sore, but staying. Won't talk. Assume work as usual Mon.
Arthur texted back simply, Thanks.
Monday he hadn't seen Merlin all day – neither, he found at 5:00, had Gwen or Leon or Percival, who'd been given a desk in Project Management. Gwaine wasn't schedule to come in until 11:00 that night, his first of a 5-day a week 11pm-7am shift.
Tuesday Percival had joined Arthur and Gwen at their lunch table. "Sorry," the big man apologized as a yawn split his face for the third time.
"Up too late?" Gwen teased.
Percival smiled, running a hand over the bristle on his head. "Maybe," he acknowledged. "We live just south of Fort Meade, but the commute is still – considerable."
"The liaison for the project is temporary, right?" Gwen said. Percival nodded, and they'd fallen silent for several minutes. Whatever was coming, whatever had brought them together again, was coming in weeks, if not days. And then what? Arthur wondered. Would Destiny turn them loose to their own devices? Would they be free to live "normal" lives? Elyan was headed to sea in the Pacific. Percival could be posted as far away or farther, in as short a time. They'd been brought together – most of them – but how long would that last?
Carol from IT entered the break-room as he was finishing lunch with Gwen and Percival, and Carol was just entering the room. He excused himself to approach the short-haired woman.
"Merlin?" Carol said. "He was here yesterday, and he's here today. He's – been busy. Working."
Arthur caught the slight hesitation. "What's the matter with him?" he asked.
Carol looked at him, really looked, then put on a bright smile. "I'm sure he's fine," she said.
"When you look at me," Arthur said, "don't see my father's son. See Merlin's friend. What is wrong?"
"He's – he's been glued to his computer. He's doing something… but I don't know what. He won't talk about it, and when I looked, I –" she looked away. "I didn't even know what I was seeing."
Arthur remembered the charges of hacking the city of Seattle's private databases, and shivered. Percival and Gwen came up behind him. "I'll try to talk to him this afternoon," he promised.
He had been watching out for his friend, but Merlin had always been good at avoiding conversations he didn't want to have. Arthur swore he wasn't going to duck out of this one. At 4:45 Tuesday afternoon he was waiting in the hallway outside the IT department, lounging in an open doorway of an empty office. Merlin, in a deep-blue collared shirt that made Arthur's heart ache with familiarity, untucked over blue jeans and his timberland boots, stepped out. He slipped the shoulder strap of his satchel over his head, starting to lope down the hallway away from Arthur.
"Merlin ," Arthur said, straightening.
Merlin twitched, but didn't turn, and the heavy office door behind Arthur sprang forward, colliding with Arthur's right shoulder blade, knocking him into the soft cubicle wall across the hallway. When Arthur looked up, Merlin was nowhere to be seen.
"Merlin!" Arthur hollered irately down the hall. He reflected, then conceded, "I guess I had that coming."
He'd considered ambushing the young sorcerer at the lab when Merlin came to pick Gaius up after work, but dismissed the idea. He didn't want to risk damaging whatever fragile relationship the two had managed to cobble together. And besides, if Merlin lost his temper again, a chemical laboratory was about the worst place for that to happen.
Arthur forced his eyes to focus on the screen, on the reds and golds decorating the company's website. In his pocket, his phone vibrated, emitting a low buzz. Gwaine, the caller ID said. "Yeah?" he answered.
"Arthur – I know you're at work, so I'll make this quick. Just wanted to let you know that Perce and I abducted Merlin last night."
"What?" Arthur didn't know whether to laugh or shout.
"Oh, relax, princess. We went paintballing, and dragged him along with us. Kind of a common-boys night out." Gwaine's chuckle echoed ironically in Arthur's ear, like Gwaine was making a joke that Arthur was not in on. "Percival said he heard Merlin's been overworked lately. We didn't tell you because we thought you might be mad we didn't ask you to come. Forgiveness over permission, that kind of thing."
"How did it go?" Arthur demanded, hope springing up eternal.
"Fine. Merlin won three out of four rounds – guess we underestimated him – he's a sneaky little bas- well, anyway, Perce and I only won the fourth round because we came around a corner in this pincer movement, and he was just standing there like he was deep in thought… But that's not what you're asking, is it. We gathered that Saturday was – kind of a disaster."
Arthur heard in his tone, way to go, princess. "Yeah, you could say that."
"He was worried about what you might have told us… guess you had your reasons for – well, for not. But I wanted to let you know that we got him cooled off and calmed down. He still doesn't remember – do we have an actual plan for that? Can we knock him upside the head? Give him one of Gaius' potions?" Arthur heard the edge in the amused drawl.
"I don't know." He was tired of having to say that. "He did do a fair bit of magic Saturday…" And slogged through old memories.
"I'm sorry I missed it, then," Gwaine said jauntily.
"No, you're not."
There was a pause as Gwaine digested that, and sobered somewhat. "Just going to play it by ear, then?"
"Yeah – plan on keeping Saturday free, though Gwaine. I have to believe that the more time we spend with him, the better."
"Will do."
"Oh, and Gwaine?"
A martyr's sigh. "Yes, princess?"
"Thank you."
Gwaine was silent a moment, then said, in all seriousness. "Anything for Merlin, Arthur. Anything for a friend. You know that."
Arthur tucked his phone away, and glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:55 – close enough, he decided, and walked past the IT department on his way to the stairs.
From the doorway, he could see Merlin's back – a good eighteen inches away from the back of the chair, shoulders hunched over as his fingers flew over the keyboard, paused, then typed rapidly again.
"Merlin?" Arthur tried.
"I'm busy," Merlin snarled.
"I just wanted to say – I'm sorry." There – it was out, and he'd heard it. "I'm sorry for Saturday morning, for an – unforgivable breach of your privacy." Merlin straightened slowly, hands going still, but didn't turn. Arthur didn't know what else to say. The room remained silent, Merlin still facing away. "Hope I'll see you around – if you need to talk…" He'd done his best.
"Drake." Arthur turned around, as Merlin leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb, eyes on the carpet. "You didn't tell anyone." It was a statement, and a question, accompanied by a swift upward glance, a flash of blue under unruly black hair. Arthur could see hesitation, fear, shame, in his stance – but also determination. He respected that.
"No, and I'm not going to," he promised.
"Why?" Merlin frowned, but not in anger, just puzzled frustration. "I mean, why would Dr. Gus show that stuff to you – why would you…"
"Did you ask him about it?" Arthur said, and Merlin shook his head. "Look – your grandfather has worked for this company awhile now…" How to say this without lying, without telling the whole shocking truth? "He and I are something like – old friends. He's been worried about you – blames himself for what you went through…"
"Why?" The frown turned bewildered. "None of that was his fault; he didn't know."
"Well –"
"Did he ask you to be nice to me?" Merlin said, in a flash of heated ire.
"No –"
"Then why are you?" Merlin swung himself away from the doorjamb, taking two long steps to bring them very close together, meeting Arthur's eyes with intense focus. Arthur, surprised, couldn't look away – and at the same time as he searched Merlin's gaze for any indication of familiarity, recognition, he willed his friend to see into his own heart, also. To trust.
"You – know me," Merlin said, taking a confused step backward again. "And you like me anyway." He said it like it was the most incongruous thing in the world. "How is that possible?"
"The knowing, or the liking?" Arthur had always found it easier to shrug off his feelings than to address them honestly and openly – and Merlin had always seemed to prefer it that way, too.
"When we met," Merlin said slowly, "you acted like I reminded you of someone you used to know."
Arthur took a deep breath. "A friend in a past life, maybe," he said casually.
Merlin took another step back. Arthur waited, holding his breath, ready for flickering lights or exploding radios. "I don't know if I can trust you," Merlin said in a low voice. "I don't know – what you'll do –" Arthur recognized the look on Merlin's face – it was strikingly similar to the one Gaius had worn when he wished to give one of the Pendragons important information – but he wasn't sure he would be believed.
"What is it you want to say?" he asked, curious to know what Merlin found important but unbelievable.
His friend opened his mouth, then shut it and gave him a look of petulant irritation. "I don't like you," he said abruptly, pointing at Arthur. "The – sound of your voice, makes me – want to obey everything you say. I never – met anyone like you."
Arthur laughed. "Likewise, Merlin." The suspicion in his friend's eyes didn't waver, but Arthur found he didn't mind.
"What do you want from me?" Merlin said. "Everyone says, trust me. Only – I can't." He whirled and strode away, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched.
It was progress, Arthur supposed, that Merlin had talked to him. And the magic he possessed stayed firmly in control.
Arthur noticed that the radio was playing softly in the IT department, and he recognized the song. You'll remember me when the west wind moves/ Upon the fields of barley… You can tell the sun in his jealous sky/ When we walked in fields of gold… I never make promises lightly/ And there have been some that I've broken… But I swear in the days still left/ We'll walk in fields of gold…
Whatever secrets Merlin had, maybe in time he'd trust Arthur enough to tell.
Arthur woke startled, with a deep sense of dread, all the more frightening because he had fallen asleep in good spirits. He glanced at the clock as his phone buzzed on the nightstand. 1:34. He grabbed at it, almost fumbled it on the floor. "Hello?" he said thickly. No answer. He glanced at the screen – painfully bright in the darkened room, and realized it was an incoming text, not a call. Gwaine. Ye gods, at this hour. "What?" he grumbled to himself, keying to view the message.
Ntruder in th citadel sire. U need 2 get 2 camelot asap. Lone.
It was the "sire" that convinced Arthur Gwaine was serious, and not pulling some elaborate practical joke. Gwaine's favorite nickname for him was "princess", and never used a more formal title – except when the situation was dire. On my way, he texted back.
Arthur dressed swiftly. The house was dark, and quiet. He used no lights, cringed as he reset the alarm to let himself out, and wasted no time using the garage door, starting the Mustang, and rolling down to the gate. The last thing he needed was his father waking to question him.
That late at night, he hit every light green. The parking lot was deserted, and he pulled in – crookedly in his haste – next to Gwaine's dark green Ford pick-up. Shoving his keys in his pocket, he hurried to the side door, by the break-room.
Gwaine was there to meet him. "What's going on?" Arthur demanded.
"I caught an intruder." The former knight was intent, worried, headed immediately for the back stairs.
"So call the police, Gwaine – what do you think I can do about it?" This isn't Camelot, after all – well it is, but… Arthur followed, unenthusiastic.
"Just listen. The alarm didn't go off like someone had broken in, but I saw something while I was walking the third floor." The former knight sounded kind of nervous for someone who'd been three years on a police force.
"Something?"
"Yeah – a shadow, and it moved. I called out, and he ran. I – I used the taser, like we're supposed to. He went down hard."
"Gwaine." Arthur didn't understand. "That's when you cuff him and call the police – not the son of the CEO. Surely they went over this with you –"
"Arthur, will you shut up and listen to me?" Gwaine turned around at the head of the stairs. Lights were on in the hallway, all the way up to the third floor. "Normally, yes, I would, but this is –" He waved a hand, at a loss for words. "Different."
"It's different how?"
"It's Merlin."
To those who'd like to see Freya again… I never intended that for this fic. I have Merlin at 18, which is very young (these days) to meet the love of your life. I also think it distracts from the Merlin-Arthur-knights dynamic, in a way that Arthur's romance with Gwen does not, since Freya never really had interaction with anyone but Merlin… But I can see, towards the end, when these issues are ironed out (Merlin's memory loss, the 'why' of the return) I can see Merlin finding love, someone to support him the way he supports Arthur…Though in this story, I see that support as more mutual than it was shown in the series…
Well, how about this – let me know if more of you want Freya back, and we'll see about a possible alternate ending?
…..*…..
Text translations:
Hows Merlin this a.m.? How's Merlin this morning?
Woke up tired but fine, didnt rmember car accdent. Needs some space. Gaius will keep us pstd. Woke up tired but fine, didn't remember car accident. Needs some space. Gaius will keep us posted.
NEthing we can do? Anything we can do?
Not today.
Merlin home. Tired, hungry, sore, but staying. Won't talk. Assume work as usual Mon.
Thanks.
Ntruder in th citadel sire. U need 2 get 2 camelot asap. Lone. Intruder in the citadel sire. You need to get to Camelot asap (as soon as possible). Alone.
On my way.